#Idk. I see your point however I don't really get it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whoreforsexymen · 4 days ago

Note

heeeey!!!! Im back with more jayce request. I would like to see jayce x reader with the prompts “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” and “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”. This is giving me like rivals or enemies to lovers where jayce and the reader have some heavy sexual tension under the surface. One day jayce just loses all patience and snaps and takes all of his stress and anger out on the reader

Sink Like A Stone | Jayce Talis

Prompt Fic (See, Prompt List)

Prompt(s) Used:

#2 "Don't act like you didn't want to end up under me like this."

#21 "Shut up and take my fuckin' cock."

Pairings: Jayce x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns + Female Anatomy Descriptions

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Word Count: 8.3k (IDK what happened)

Tags: Songfic, INTENSE Smut, INTENSE Angst, VERY SLIGHT dub-con (it's not really dubcon--Jayce just get's really consumed by anger at one point--the unspoken consent is there) Hate-fucking, Lovers to Enemies then back to Lovers (??), Choking, Semi-Public Sex, Biting, Slapping, etc.

Summary: You and Jayce are ex-lovers. You hate him for plagiarizing and stealing your life's work, and he hates you for leaving him over what he considered a selfless act. After months of having not seen each other, you two get into a heated screaming match turned hate-fucking. However, Jayce may have let his emotions get the better of him.

Notes: OKOKOK, so. Be warned. This one is a DOOZY. I was in no way planning on adding 90% of the elements I added to this story. They just kind of happened.

(Special note to @milkbean69 !! I really took this and ran with it. If you want me to redo it in a much tamer way. Please let me know and I will.)

((((Side note, this is going to have to be a two-parter! Stay tuned for part two, which will be much softer.))))

‘We lie,

Cold.’

Jayce.

A name so simple, so unassuming, it would slip unnoticeably through anyone else’s mind. But to you, it holds weight. Each syllable, each breath that forms it, feels impossibly significant—a name that stirs something deep within you, a quiet echo of poignancy known only by you.

Your feelings towards the Jayce Talis you once knew were complex and hard to define. On one hand, you despised the way he insinuated himself into the council of Piltover’s most prestigious Academy, taking a seat you believed was rightfully yours—one you had fought tooth and nail to earn.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

His so-called “vision” for Piltover’s future, with that abominable Hextech nonsense, had directly sabotaged the plans you’d spent years perfecting. You may not have had the luxury of Arcane magic to ease trade, but you had crafted a much more practical blueprint to connect Piltover to the rest of Runeterra’s trading world.

Yet the moment Jayce and his fragile “partner” wielded their so-called “magic,” your ideas were dismissed, overlooked, and ultimately erased.

‘We don’t wanna,

Know.’

On the other hand, you had always considered him a friend—seemingly more at times—until the day he practically ripped the rug of your life’s work out from under your feet.

Not to mention he had the gall to call it his idea. “His” idea? Please. It was your idea, just re-wrapped in a fancy mystical package. You had worked on it together, after all. Jayce had spent countless hours rambling about the mysticism and potential of those tiny blue stones of his, insisting they could revolutionize everything you had ever strived to achieve. Never once did you imagine that, once he unlocked their power, he’d turn against you, abandoning the partnership and the vision you had once shared.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.'

What kind of name was Hextech, anyhow? It felt devoid of sophistication, lacking both subtlety and the gravitas one might expect from something so profound. It didn’t quite capture the essence of what it was—an intricate fusion of magic and technology—nor did it convey any sense of elegance or purpose.

Although, you couldn’t deny that you often reminisced in memories of your life before his grandiose “discovery”—robbery, really— of Hextech—your idea.

‘We take our time

Ignoring all the signs

Living in fear of our lies

Never bad enough to break it

Or, good enough to feel right.’

You had spent the better portion of your youth with him, much of it tangled amidst bedsheets, consumed by a shared, desperate need to relinquish each other’s physical tensions.

‘Been in overtime,

Half our lives.’

Sometimes, you could still feel the softness of his touch, the warmth of his lips grazing your skin—and other, much more tender, places. You could easily recall how your body had ached for him at times, but even more painfully, how your heart had longed for him, too. A truth you never dared to utter aloud.

The absence of anything beyond those intense moments of passion never really crossed your mind during the thick of it all. You never questioned it, and in hindsight, you’re almost thankful you didn’t—especially after what he had done after all that time. All of the time spent together, collectively fantasizing over your dreams and aspirations of a better life for all citizens, and a better future for the next generations to come.

‘Under indecision,

We become so dependent.

On the rush,

Of the moment.’

The bitterness that had consumed your heart was unbearable now, and the thought of ever confessing your feelings to him seemed almost unfathomable—impossible to imagine how much worse it could have been for you now if you had.

By this point, you were acutely aware of how deeply you loathed him. Your physical desires had long since faded, especially since you hadn’t seen or spoken to him in months. You had even gone so far as to move to a place he couldn’t find, cutting off every trace of connection, and the bond you once had.

Your skin ached with longing for him, your body and soul craving his touch once more. Yet, no matter how intense the desire, you would never allow him a single opportunity to return to your life.

It was a painful contradiction to bear—hating him, yet craving him all the same. You felt trapped, consumed by hopelessness, unable to escape the turmoil inside.

‘Sanitize

My head.’

You hadn’t moved far—just to the other side of Piltover, away from The Academy, the council, and—most importantly—-Jayce, himself.. The distance was a great relief. In your day-to-day life, there was no real risk of encountering him, and that small sense of safety gave you some peace of mind.

However…

You often found yourself testing that peace, pushing the boundaries of the distance you’d created. You weren’t entirely sure why—maybe it was the deep, unresolved desperation for him, or perhaps a semi-conscious, self-destructive choice of yours.

‘Death murders

Everything in sight.’

Each night, you found yourself walking almost the entire length of Piltover, from your new home to the Hexgate monolith on the far end—the very place you had fought so hard to escape.

Seeing the towering structure always left you with a deep, melancholic thrum in your chest. It represented everything you had once hoped for, everything you had worked and slaved over, now reduced to rubble by its mere presence.

‘Beneath the rip in the wind

The pillar push you aside.’

That tower stood as an unyielding symbol of betrayal, a constant reminder of the anger and anguish that had shattered your world at the mercy of Jayce’s hands.

‘If I make way

I can taste your sigh.

Just like the cannibal amp

It knows sound is size.’

On your nightly walks, you would make your way down the stone pier that lead to the water, your footsteps echoing in the quiet. When you reached the end, you’d grasp the railing that kept people from tumbling over the cliff’s edge, gluing yourself to the present moment.

‘Push me to

The brink, I said

Well that bitch

Is a creep

It tried to know what I think.’

There, you’d gaze up at the tower, lost in thought—re-evaluating and wondering how differently your life might have unfolded if Jayce hadn’t betrayed you—-if he hadn’t stolen your idea and torn everything apart.

‘To breathe out passion

Or suck in fate

You think the world was made

To wield your weight

And bleed out?’

Tonight was no different. Here you were, hood drawn—- hands shoved deep in your pockets—-your bodice pulled tight as you hunched in quiet disdain, eyes locked on nothing but the ground that passed underfoot.

Your expression was sour as you traced every wrong turn your life had taken to bring you here. Your chest felt heavy, as if the weight of it all pressed itself down upon you out of sheer spite.

Your mind buzzed, a relentless whirl of painful memories spinning in a dizzying menagerie inside your skull.

When your eyes met the stark, hauntingly familiar edifice, a sharper pang stabbed deep beneath your chest, more intense than you were accustomed to by now.

You weren’t sure why, of all nights, tonight seemed to bring out the most intense surge of feelings—especially since you found yourself unusually consumed by your thoughts this time around.

Especially since, long before Jayce had perfected the Hexgate, the two of you would often come here to find solace in the sound of the waves and the crisp air of the sea. You’d toss stones into the water, or compete to see who could throw them the furthest. The bittersweet memory of how often Jayce would taunt you for your lack of coordination only deepened the pain and anger digging at you.

You couldn’t control the mindless, almost reflexive way your body reacted to such intense feelings, in combination with the familiarity of the location. Without a second thought, your hand reached for a nearby rock, and before you even registered what you were doing, you hurled it as hard as you could toward the tower.

The tower, distant and perched far out in the water, seemed almost unreachable, and your rock barely made it halfway before splashing down into the water with a sound that felt like it mocked you in the same way Jayce had. You almost felt compelled to throw another rock, driven by some irrational need to make the first one atone for mocking you—despite the fact that it, like all other rocks, had no sentience to answer for its actions.

You gave in to the irrational impulse, bending down to pick up another rock, your mind still fixated on the need to make the previous one pay. But as your fingers closed around the stone, something in the corner of your vision made you pause. A pair of shoes—familiar, yet unknown—caught your eye. Shoes that were attached to feet. Feet that led up to legs. Legs that belonged to the hips and torso of an individual you couldn’t see beyond your hood.

The rock slipped from your hand, forgotten, as your attention shifted entirely to the figure standing behind you. You hadn’t heard a single indicating noise that you had been followed, or approached from behind.

The presence was sudden, unnerving, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to be afraid. If you were anywhere else, anywhere but Piltover, you’d be terrified. But here, in this ”city of wonders”, you couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, you were still safe.

If anything, it was probably an enforcer, here to reprimand you for throwing rocks in the first place. You straightened up, brushing the thought aside, and turned to face whoever had been silently looming behind you.

As you spun around, you realized—this wasn’t an enforcer.

No, far from it.

The person standing there was more terrifying than any enforcer could ever be, and certainly more annoying, infuriating, and enraging to look upon, for lack of better words to describe the instant rush of wrath that overwhelmed you.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t look past

Your future self?’

“Your aim is still pretty shit, sunshine.” He says plainly, the nickname he had always pegged you with burning in your ears.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes locked onto the disgustingly smug expression on his face. Every hair on your body stood on end, a shiver crawling up your spine as you stood face to face with the man you now regarded with nothing but utter disdain.

You freeze, unable to muster a response, your mind clouded with a storm of rage and contemptment.

Jayce’s gaze lingers on you, almost—dare you think it—in a way that seemed concerned, longing, and worst of all—-caring.

What a hypocrite. How dare he look at you like he actually cares?

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap, your fingers twitching, aching to throw a rock at his face just to make him eat his words. For a split second, you actually consider it—and you’re sure Jayce can feel exactly what’s running through your mind as he observes the way your eyes flicker between his face, and the stone you had left behind.

“What look?” he asks, concern surging through his expression again.

Did this guy have a death wish, or was he really just that oblivious? Either way, you could crack instantaneously.

“That look. The fake concern,” you snap, your eyes dropping, fists tightening, teeth grinding.

“Fake…?” He pauses, clearly lost in thought as he crosses his arms over his chest, the hint of offense hanging off his words.

You fight the urge to lash out, to make him feel something stronger than pain.

‘I know the feeling

‘Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

“Yes, fake, Jayce. As in insincere. Artificial,” you spit, taking a sharp breath.

“Ersatz,” you add, the word a bitter aftertaste.

Your words cut through the air with a venomous cadence, each syllable sharp and biting, a distasteful attempt to tear through him.

Jayce looked completely dumbfounded, as if his mind had been wiped clean. The stark look of gears no longer grinding in his brain was almost comical. He was daft, no doubt. You felt a twinge of pride prod your ego upon this realization.

You couldn’t bear to stay here, not this close to him, not after everything. The thought that he was only here to twist the knife deeper into your wounds was almost more than you could handle. Your emotions, raw and overwhelming, had already drained you, and you were done. You didn’t want to give him another moment—no chance for him to make things worse, or worse still, to somehow try and redeem himself. As if he ever could.

Steeling yourself, you gather what little dignity you have left and turn away, keeping your face carefully composed. As you pass him, you deliberately knock your shoulder against his, ricocheting his shoulders in the process, a silent and singular act of defiance as you walk away.

As if to intentionally make matters worse, Jayce turns after you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He makes contact, swiftly pulling you back towards him.

“___, wait—” He begins, but his words are cut short as your hand slams into his cheek. You hadn’t necessarily meant to hit him, but the motion was as instinctive as throwing the rocks—your hand connecting with the flesh of his cheek before you even had a chance to stop it—not that you necessarily would have wanted to.

The way you had wound up the slap was only amplified by the sudden pull of his hand grabbing you mid-stride, forcing you back toward him. The momentum aided the force with which you struck him.

The weight of what you’d just done hit you all at once—grief, anger, relief, all crashing together. A small part of you, the part that still cared for him, was flooded with guilt. But the darker parts of you—those that hated him, that had longed to hurt him—felt a twisted satisfaction. Besides, it was his own fault that he had grabbed you.

You’d wanted to feel his skin beneath your hands, after all, and in an oddly perfect way, this had been the way to satiate that desire.

Jayce instantly released his grip on your wrist, his hand moving to cup the spot where your slap had left its mark.

“Ah…” he groaned, wincing as he cupped the stinging flesh. His eyes snapped shut, the pain unmistakably written all over his face.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away as he stood there, his hand pressed against the raw, reddened skin of his cheek, the mark of your slap still vivid and angry. The sight of it made your chest tighten, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was you were feeling. What should you feel in a moment like this? That was the question you could neither answer or shake.

You had already acknowledged, in a quiet corner of your mind, that there was a strange satisfaction in lashing out, even if it was tangled with the thorny weight of your own hurt. There was a cruel sort of release in it, one that both thrilled and disturbed you in equal measure. Your stomach churned as you fought to suppress the abhorrent feeling of shame that crept up on you.

You could feel your instincts urging you to escape—to run, to put distance between yourself and this raw, uncomfortable moment. But you chose not to listen. The urge to flee warred with something else, something deeper, a curiosity that had begun to take root. You wanted to see how this would unfold, to witness how this tension would resolve, if it would resolve at all. The satisfaction you had felt from that sharp, ringing slap was undeniable. Maybe it had been a way to expel some of the pain that had been building inside you for so long. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth confronting whatever came next, just to relieve yourself of that heaviness, even if only for a moment.

‘Make up your mind,

We’re running out of time.’

Your heart sunk as you saw the essence of betrayal soon sweep across his face. Yet, simultaneously, that added to the anger you felt. He, of all people, felt betrayal? After the way he betrayed you? That look of his repulsed you.

He looked at you, disbelief written all over his face, his expression a mixture of shock and hurt. His hand lingered on his cheek, still tender from the sting of your slap, as though he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the moment. The look he gave you was one of genuine confusion, as if he couldn’t fathom why you were so consumed by anger.

“___…” His voice cracked slightly, heavy with emotion, but still full of that familiar, passionate lilt, the kind that used to make your heart race. When he whispered your name—softly, almost reverently—it was as if the sound of it pained him.

‘Doubt is failure

By design.’

His eyes searched yours, full of questions that hung in the air, unanswered. Why had you struck him? Why this sudden violence? The pain in his gaze only seemed to stoke the fire inside you, making the anger flare even hotter, more reckless.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you don’t know exactly what that was for,” you spat, each word sharp, each syllable dripping with a tang that tasted like metal on your tongue. But as the words left you, the anger morphed into something far more fragile, far more devastating. Your heart seemed to crack with the weight of it, the betrayal, the hopelessness. The tears welled up, blurring your vision as your chest tightened with sorrow.

“Why… why are you so blind to everything you’ve done?” you choked out.

“To everything we had… everything you destroyed… just so you could chase your fucking dreams?”

Your fists balled at your sides, the muscles in your arms trembling from the effort of keeping control, even though your voice shook with the strain of holding back the tidal wave of emotion threatening to break free.

‘I’m burning up

Can only take

So much.’

“What about my dreams, Jayce? What about our dreams?” you cried, your voice rising, your words feeling like they could burn everything in their path. Every inch of you ached—your body, your heart, your soul—all of it pulled taut like a string ready to snap. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.

“What made sealing your own future—your destiny—more important than what we built together?” you demanded, the question sitting in the air between you like a dagger.

“Why was your ambition more sacred than our bond? More sacred than us?”

Your voice cracked on the last word, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps. The tears spilled over, leaving hot trails down your face, but you stood your ground, unwilling to back down. This—this pain, this heartbreak—was something you needed to admit, needed him to hear.

“How dare you steal my idea. How dare you take the credit, and disparage it with your stupid, fucking, magic.” You were shouting now, your voice ringing through the night air, raw and unfiltered, the weight of your anger shattering the silence that had settled over everything. The contrast between your fury and the stillness of the evening was jarring—your words felt like they were tearing through the quiet, reverberating off the walls of the world around you.

“Your idea?!” he exclaimed in response, his voice rising sharply, cutting through your tirade. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few purposeful strides, his figure towering over you, his height and presence suddenly far more imposing than you remembered. His broad shoulders blocked the space between you, his stance firm, as if challenging you to face him head-on.

‘I know you

Can feel it

It’s catching up

It’s getting too heavy

For both of us.’

“Since when was it your idea?” His words were fast, biting with frustration, and he was unrelenting as he moved closer, his eyebrows knit together in upset.

“‘Cause the way I remember it—we both wanted change. We both wanted to make Piltover a better, more advanced city.” His voice was now an angry force, his face craning down to meet yours, his eyes sharp, trying to drill the point home. He wasn’t asking anymore—he was demanding you understand.

But what hit you most in that moment wasn’t just his words. It was the way his anger had suddenly shifted everything. For the first time in your life, you felt small compared to him. You had never seen him like this—not even annoyed, not in all the time you had spent together. Jayce had always been the steady one, the calm, the voice of reason. But now, his fury felt like a storm—intense, unpredictable, and completely foreign. The force of it left you unsettled, and taken aback, to say the least.

You didn’t know how to react to this. His anger was like a tidal wave, knocking the ground out from under you, and for the first time, you realized just how much power he had over you—how much he could command just by his sheer presence. The towering figure in front of you, his jaw clenched, eyes burning with emotion, made your chest tighten. You didn’t know what to do with this. His anger was new, and in some way, it was almost more frightening than anything you had ever faced.

‘We lie

Cold.’

You were baffled, not just by the words he was saying, but by the way he was saying them—like a person you didn’t recognize.

You parted your lips, ready to continue the tirade that had built up in your chest, but before you could get another word out, Jayce’s voice cut you off, raw and jagged. He didn’t give you a chance to speak, his frustration spilling over, each word more desperate than the last.

“You left me. Here. Alone.” His voice cracked, trembling under the weight of everything he, too, left unsaid, considering how you fled before he ever got a chance to explain himself. It wasn’t just anger in his tone anymore; it was pain. The kind that came from a place so deep you couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

“I did what I thought was best for us.” He stepped closer, his voice rising in volume, matching the intensity of your own.

“I proved what I was trying to prove. For us. For our collective aspirations.” The words came faster now, fueled by the overwhelming rush of emotion that was beginning to boil over in him.

“I worked my ass off to make sure that, with the help of my Hextech, your trade routes could flourish,” he spat, his anger now matching yours, raw and unrelenting. His face was inches from yours, his breath hot as he glared down at you.

“I won’t stand here and let you blame me, let you hate me, for acting out of what I thought was selflessness at the time. I’ve gone to bat for you, countless times, to make sure you got the credit you deserved.”

His own fists clenched at his sides, the strain of his words almost too much to bear.

“But you ran. You left, assuming my only goal was to use you, when in reality, all I ever tried to do was support you.”

His words slammed into you like a physical blow, and for a second, you were paralyzed by the force of them. But then the anger surged again, hot and insistent. Support you? The bitterness twisted in your gut, and before you even thought about it, the words exploded from your mouth.

“Support me?!” You shouted, the sound ringing through the night like a bell, sharp and accusing.

“That’s what you call abandoning me to take a seat in the highest of towers?” You could feel the heat of your own fury rising to meet his, and without thinking, you shoved both hands into his chest, pushing him back with all the force you could muster.

Jayce stumbled backward, caught off guard by the sheer force of your anger, and you weren’t done. You shoved him again, harder this time, your hands pressing against his chest until he hit the railing behind him with a loud clang. The sound echoed in the air, but you didn’t care.

“In the council, no less?! Leaving me here to fend for myself in your fucking shadow?!” Your voice was hoarse now, each scream louder and more desperate than the last. You pushed him once more, as if trying to push the weight of everything you felt, everything you couldn’t hold onto anymore, into him.

The tears you’d held back were streaming freely down your face, but there was no stopping them now. The hurt, the betrayal—it all came pouring out in that single moment. The fury and heartbreak swirled together, a force you couldn’t control, and all you could do was scream at him until your voice gave out, until he understood just how much you had suffered because of his choices.

‘Dam up the river,

We can go, slow.’

Jayce had finally reached his limit. The shouting, the anger, the constant back and forth—it was all too much. He could see now that no matter what he said, nothing would make you stop. The argument had spiraled into something beyond reason, and every word he spoke only seemed to fuel your fire. You weren’t listening anymore; you were just lashing out, consumed by rage.

Enough was enough.

‘Dull down our senses,

Become numb.’

When you shoved him again, anger blinding you, Jayce reacted quickly. His patience had worn thin, and he wasn’t about to let this go any further.

The next time your hands came at him, he caught your wrists with a swift, forceful motion, crossing them tightly over each other. Before you could react, he shoved your arms into your chest, locking you in place. Then, without warning, he spun you around, pulling you harshly against him so that your back was pressed to his chest. His grip tightened, his arms like iron bands, preventing you from thrashing away.

‘Mirin myself

All by myself.’

“Stop.” His voice was low, sharp, and commanding, vibrating against your ear as his chest caged you in. You could feel the heat of his body, the raw tension in every inch of him as he held you close, his strength completely overpowering your attempts to break free.

“___, for fucks sake! Stop!” He demands, one of his enormous hands moving to take hold of both of your wrists while the other clamped down around your jaw, bringing your face towards your shoulder, where his own chin rested in this position.

Jayce had no choice. He knew how stubborn you were, how deeply you clung to your anger when you were hurt, and how you’d never stop until you’d worn yourself out—if you ever did. But right now, he couldn’t wait for that to happen. He couldn’t let you run away from him anymore.

With one sharp, decisive movement, his lips crashed into yours. It was hard, hungry, demanding—a complete storm of sensation that left no room for resistance. Your eyes went wide in shock, your breath hitching as you tried to pull back, but he followed, his mouth pressing harder against yours, refusing to let you break free.

‘Feel the caress, so sweet

Done by my hand.’

You gasped, the sound caught between your lips, and before you could protest, his kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, twisting with yours in a way that both startled and confused you. You cried out into his mouth, the noise muffled, as his hold on you tightened, his body pressing closer to yours, grounding you in place.

Every part of you wanted to push him away, to shout, to keep fighting, but Jayce’s kiss was relentless—an anchor pulling you deeper into silence. He wasn’t pulling back, not until you stopped fighting, until you let go of that anger long enough to breathe.

And though you still burned with fury, something about the way he held you, the way his presence swallowed you whole, made it harder and harder to keep struggling.

No matter how much you had longed for his touch, how desperately you had yearned for him to kiss you like this again, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it in a moment like this. Not when everything inside you was still burning with anger and hurt.

‘Polishing this frame of mind,

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You fought against him, your body stiff and tense, desperately trying to pull away from his overwhelming presence. Each movement was a silent refusal, a stubborn resistance to the way his kiss was pulling at your very core.

‘Duck n’ dodge,

Stay unaligned.'

But it was futile. You were already drained, your energy spent from the crying, the shouting, the endless cycle of rage that had led you here. As his lips pressed more insistently against yours, the fight in you began to falter. The need to escape, the impulse to run, slowly began to dissolve with every second his lips lingered on yours, and his tongue explored the depths of your mouth. What remained was the sharp sting of your rage, but even that felt like it was starting to ebb.

Gradually, your body softened, the tension in your muscles melting away. The fight left you, piece by piece, until you sighed against his mouth, the sound muffled but unmistakable. With a subtle shift, your head tilted just enough to give him more room, more access, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to stop fighting. The kiss deepened, and in that quiet surrender, Jayce released a long, relieved breath, sensing your body finally easing into his touch.

‘My recognition face

Some get withered

Some get fried.’

You kissed him back after great hesitation, your lips and tongue moving urgently against his, as if you were trying to make up for every lost moment in a single, heated breath. There was no holding back now. The memories, the longing, everything that had been buried deep inside you erupted all at once, and your mouth moved hungrily against his, each movement a desperate attempt to relive the intimacy you’d once shared.

‘I know we talked about

The shit we did

Each time.’

His grip on your wrists faltered, weakening as you started to turn toward him fully. The distance between you closed rapidly, and soon, your chest was pressed flush against his, your body responding to his presence with an intensity you couldn’t control. As your hands were freed, they instinctively traveled up to his face, your thumb brushing over the spot where you’d struck him only minutes before, feeling the remnants of your anger there, now mingling with something else.

‘Polishing this frame of mind

Jacked it up an ax to grind.’

You cupped his face, fingers digging into his jaw, pulling him even closer as if trying to erase the distance between you, to melt into him and make up for the time and pain that had come before. The urgency in your movements was raw and frantic, a wordless plea to feel everything at once—to collapse the anger, the longing, and the need that had built up inside you into this single, desperate connection.

‘Duck n’ dodge

Stay unaligned

My recognition face.’

His hands roamed over your body, searching for any way to pull you closer, his touch growing more insistent as he settled them on your hips, pulling you into him. The physical closeness only heightened the tension, the desire, but also something darker—something that still lingered between you—lust.

Though you no longer felt the need to escape, your rage simmered just below the surface, burning deep in your chest. It wasn’t gone, not by a long shot. It still gnawed at you, demanding to be felt, demanding some kind of reckoning. Part of you wanted to make him feel it, make him understand the depth of your pain. You wanted him to know what you had been through all this time.

‘Am I the reason

That you can’t

Look past your future self?’

Your tongue retracted for a moment, and you pressed your teeth against his bottom lip, the bite sharp enough to sting. It was a flash of anger, mixed with the heat of desire, and it caught Jayce off guard. You had shared passionate moments before, but nothing quite like this—nothing that carried this much intensity. He flinched at the sudden sharpness, but in that moment, something in him sparked, that familiar fire of tension growing even stronger.

If that’s what it would take to break the tension, then he’d oblige.

Jayce’s hand tangled into your hair, pulling you closer, his grip tightening. The sensation of your hair in his hand, the pressure, sent a breathless sound escaping from you—something between a gasp and a soft exhale. It was involuntary, the sound mixing with the heat building between you. Jayce had always longed to hear that from you, to feel that connection, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t stop.

For far too long, Jayce had denied himself any form of physical connection. Since you left, he’d been forced to bury his desire for you deep inside, locking it away with a painful awareness that nothing—no touch, no embrace—could compare to what he had shared with you. Each passing day, he became more acutely aware of the emptiness that lingered, knowing that any contact with anyone else would only serve as a stark reminder of the craving that burned for you.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been stuck

And glued in frequent doubt.’

He tightened his grip, drawing another soft sound from you, the mix of pleasure and tension in the air thickening. His focus was solely on you now, on the way your body responded, on the sounds you made, and how this moment—this raw, unguarded moment—was pulling both of you closer to the unspoken lust that couldn’t be denied a moment longer.

You can’t help but let out a filthy little moan, whimpering along with it.

A shameless, guttural moan, that sent Jayce’s head into a spiral. He had been beyond desperate to coax those kinds of noises out of you for what felt like too long of an eternity. He was in no position to deny himself the opportunity to keep drawing them out of you.

His hands curled into a fist as he yanked on your hair, whimpers flying out of you like a flock of birds.

If you wanted to fight dirty, Jayce was game.

“Fuck..” He breathes out—eager, like a starved man who stumbled upon a banquet— as he pulls away from your lips, immediately pressing them against the skin of your neck he had exposed from his grip on your locks. He let his teeth drag along the skin, biting and harshly sucking on it in several places. Your reaction was deathly arousing. The slightly pained cries that flowed beside ones of pleasure sent Jayce’s burning temptation into orbit.

He knew you needed him in the way he had once gotten used to providing for you. His cock throbbed beneath his slacks, desperate to break free from the confines of the cloth that kept it contained.

It was arguably harder than it had ever been, his anger and inability to have you for so long adding fuel to the fire of his pure incessant need to bury himself deep inside you.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t keep

My mind open now.’

Oh, how you both longed to be connected like that again. In the way all lovers know well—their unspoken second nature.

He ruts his hips against yours, your own body responding instinctively by meeting them in their attempt to seek friction.

You both emit low grunts at the new sensation, satiating the tension for now.

You felt as though you were being scorched from within, the intense heat of your desire and simmering rage intertwining, each stoking the other in a relentless blaze. Every nerve burned with an insatiable hunger, a craving that went beyond pleasure, pulling you deeper into a whirlwind of both ecstasy and agony.

You needed more—not just the thrill of sensation, but the raw, cathartic pain that seemed to heighten the fire within you. Your soul ached for an outlet, something that would satisfy the chaotic tension, where your lust and frustration could collide, erupting into something that might finally ease the raging storm inside.

You snaked your arms around his neck, giving a small jump into him as you anchored onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He hums darkly in reaction to the sudden motion, his hands releasing their clasp on your hair to instead latch onto the bottom of your ass—-supporting you as you clung to him.

Jayce’s head shot up from it’s spot between your head and chest, moving to a new vantage point in order to scan the area. He was a man with a mission.

A mission to uncover the perfect place, somewhere secluded and unremarkable—a refuge hidden from the world where he could channel the fury between you with ruthless intensity. It had to be a spot where nothing could interrupt the raw, unfiltered release of tension—a place where every movement, every act, could be as drastic and unforgiving as the anger that surged through both of you.

Needless to say—and in an extremely simple turn of phrase—-He needed to fuck the rage out of you— and he would stop at nothing to do so.

After a few tense moments, Jayce focused, his eyes landing on the perfect hidden corner in all of Piltover. His grip tightened on you as he began to lead you toward it. The alleyway was small and shadowed, tucked between two shops that had long since closed for the night. The buildings on either side pressed in tightly, their walls forming a dark, narrow passage that swallowed any light. The darkness obscured it from street lamps and passersby, though Jayce hardly seemed at all concerned about the possibility of wandering eyes, anyway.

The alley itself was already tucked away from the main streets, but the particular spot his intentions were set on was even more concealed—through the alley and to the right, behind the buildings entirely, not just in between.

Overhanging eaves, garbage bins and scattered crates cloaked the area, creating a thick, impenetrable shadow. It was a secluded pocket, completely hidden from view, untouched by the faintest glimmer from the street beyond.

A perfect haven of obscurity, though the lack of any inviting scenery was hardly worth a second thought. The cracked cobblestones, the faint smell of damp earth, rotting trash, and the forgotten clutter of the alley seemed irrelevant. In a place like this, where shadows held sway, scenery had no claim. Nothing mattered but the raw, pressing heat of the moment.

You sank your teeth into his neck, your hands exploring his shoulders with a quiet, persistent need. He groaned beneath your bite, his un-abating lust taking the lead furthermore, as he harshly slammed your back against the abrasive stone walls of the building. His mouth was quick to covet yours once more, lips voraciously seeking stimulation from them.

Your sensual tango of lips pressing against each other, hips grating and rutting into each other’s carried out, Jayce beginning to make quick work of exposing you to the elements, his cock still hard as ever as it brushed against your clit beneath the layers of clothing. You can’t help but whimper out in response.

With the new advantage of pinning you to the stone wall—-combined with the leverage of your legs still around his waist—-his hands grew eager, rushing to tear your blouse apart. His fingers slid between the buttons of the opening, pushing through the seam before he gripped tight and wrenched it apart. Several buttons flew free, briefly distracting from the sharp bite of the cold air against the newly exposed skin.

You couldn’t help but whine into the cavern of his mouth, the rough display of lust redirecting all of your aching and longing straight to your clit. It throbbed with intent, a desperate reminder that you needed more friction. You greedily rolled your hips into his, yielding another low, filthy grunt from Jayce.

“Fuck.” He pants against your mouth, hands kneading at your breasts, cock twitching beneath his trousers.

Oh, how he longed to revisit the memories of your past encounters, to re-enact the acts of pleasure he had learned to bring you. But in such a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to slow down. As much as he yearned to please you in the ways he’d spent so much time discovering, there was no time, now. The urgency of the present situation demanded everything from him. If he didn’t bury his cock deep within you, right now, and fuck you senseless, he’d probably keel over.

This was his last chance. His only chance to rewrite your history.

‘Am I the reason,

That you can’t look past,

Your future self?’

Without a second’s hesitation, Jayce tore your legs from his waist, practically dropping you to the ground. In one swift motion, he flipped you around, pressing your cheek forcefully into the cold stone wall with one hand. You groan out, the harsh force of his motions prodding your deep-seated anger once more. His chin reclaims its resting point on your shoulder, teeth claiming your earlobe between them as he pressed his mouth to your ear. You groan out of sudden distaste for the new position.

”Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.” He growls into it, the words viscerally stabbing at your clit, earning a thirsty cry from you.

He spread your legs with his feet, his free hand clambering to release his throbbing cock from it’s fabric prison. He yanked your pants down, the sound of his belt clinking sending shivers up your spine as your cunt pulsated in anticipation.

You were beyond wet—the word a dull description of the way your cunt was absolutely sopping, dripping, and practically gushing for him.

Despite your evident arousal, you weren’t used to things happening so fast. You began to protest as your back arched against his brawny, bold, and burly chest.

“Jayce— wait!” You started to say, before his teeth clamped down onto your earlobe with increased vigor, your words fading into torrid moans as a result.

He pulls your underwear to the side, fist pumping his deprived cock before he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.

“Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.” He barked.

Before you even had a chance to breathe, he plowed into you, curling his hips up to press flush against your ass. You had no choice but to brace yourself. Your hands flew to the cold stone wall, gripping tightly to keep from collapsing under the force of it all.

The sound that tore from deep within your chest was raw, loud enough to make anyone within a hundred feet of the building take concerned notice. Anyone outside of you and Jayce would have assumed you were being murdered.

It was a deliciously vile sound, thick with want, neediness, desperation, and all the emotions you had yet resolved.

“Fuck!” You scream, tears stinging in your eyes as Jayce began slamming up into you with at an absolutely merciless pace. He wasted no time by giving you a single moment to adjust, knowing full well the rough nature was exactly what the situation called for. If he didn’t give this his all, everything was at stake. Or so he thought.

His thrusts were, at their core, crude—filthy, vulgar.

Lascivious.

They had an animalistic quality, one that attested to his own desires, and the hurtful longing he had harbored for you.

Jayce grunted, huffing out as he ruthlessly snapped his hips against the flesh of your ass. He plunged his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, the hand that held your face against the stone withdrew from you. Jayce pulled it beneath your arm, wrapping around your chest to imperviously grip at your breast, using his hold on it to further aid in the force with which he was bucking into you.

His other hand moved to your neck, fingers tightening around it with a possessive grip. The pressure forced the air from your lungs, and you gasp, the sound barely escaping as your breath becomes shallow. You squirm, struggling to breathe, but his hold doesn’t loosen. Instead, it pulls you in deeper, mixing fury with hunger. Each ragged breath, each flicker of resistance only seems to make it worse, the heat between you both building in the space where anger and desire collide.

“Fuck you.” He spat out in sync with his thrusts.

“Fuck.” —thrust.

“You.” —thrust.

“For.” —thrust.

“Leaving.” Thrust, thrust, thrust.

The words he spat out were coated in intent, each one seething with the same anger that simmered inside of him. The way he moved, pounding into you, was frantic, his hips driven by a fire that seemed to consume him.

‘Got me believin’

You’ve been

Stuck and glued

In frequent doubt.’

You could feel it, the heat coursing through his veins with every thrust—his body shaking with the intensity of it. There was nothing controlled about the way he gripped you, no tenderness. Just a reckless, furious need, each movement angry, as if he were fighting to push the rage out of his body and into you.

His soul had been set ablaze, and all you could do was feel the burn.

“Agh—“ You pant, air still desperate to escape your lungs as he clenched your throat.

“F-fuck you for—-Pretending like—-you care.” You choke out.

Jayce’s blood boils, his grip on your throat tightening beyond the point of care.

“Pretending like I care?” He pants as well, exhausting himself from the force with which he was railing his cock up into you.

“I care. More than—anyone—sunshine.” He very well shouts, words still in sync with his thrusts, on exhaling with each. He was absolutely plowing you now, the familiar nickname cutting through the air that surrounded you.

You were groaning out in pleasure and pain, the contrasting feelings mixing into one as he continued his relentless assault on your cervix.

“T-Then why—-why couldn’t you just—-“ Your lungs begged for air.

“Love me—-like I love—- you?” You gasp, your voice barely audible above the hunger for air.

‘I know the feeling

Cause I can’t

Keep my mind

Open now.’

Jayce’s movements stopped abruptly, his hands yanking away from you as if struck by a sudden realization. You gasped, breath catching painfully in your throat, stumbling back into the wall, your body desperate for air that was slow to come. The intensity that had fueled him moments before seemed to drain in an instant, leaving you gasping in the silence.

Jayce felt an overwhelming wave of guilt crash over him, sharp and suffocating, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured straight over his head. It hit him all at once, a gut-punch of realization that mirrored the guilt he had seen on your face earlier when you slapped him—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to escape. His chest tightened, a heaviness settling in his stomach as he stood there, frozen, unable to look at you.

His hips stilled, his body rigid as the anger that had driven him to this point shifted, replaced by something softer—-sadder. His heart felt heavy in his chest, sinking like a stone in water.

All that was left in the alley was the erratic—-uneven sound of your breathing, each inhale a struggle, sweat slicking your skin, catching the light of the moon in fragile glimmers. The silence stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what had just transpired hanging between you like a shroud, heavy and unresolved.

His mind was a blur, thoughts scattered and jumbled, short-circuiting in a way that left him dizzy. He couldn’t make sense of the guilt spiraling through him, the crushing weight of having crossed a line he hadn’t even seen until it was too late. Until you said what you had said.

That you loved him.

He removes his chest from your back, pulling himself out of you in the process.

Jayce reached for you, his hands trembling as he gently grasped your shoulders, his touch softer than it had been all night. His fingers barely brushed your skin, as if afraid to make contact after everything that had just happened. With a careful, almost reverent motion, he spun you around to face him. The moment your eyes met, his chest seemed to cave in on itself, a sickening weight settling there.

His heart felt like it had physically dropped, plummeting to the pit of his stomach with a sickening thud. The sight of you, tears streaking down your face, the raw anguish in your expression—it shattered him. Every ounce of anger, every moment of fury that had driven him earlier seemed like a distant memory in the face of the heartbreak he had caused.

How could he have been so reckless? The thought screamed in his mind, impossible to silence. The guilt that gripped him now was suffocating, crushing. He’d seen your pain in the heat of the moment, but now it hit him full force—really hit him. The tears in your eyes weren’t just a reminder of what he’d done; they were a reflection of how far he had pushed you, how little he had cared in the frenzy of his own anger.

And now, standing in front of you, he couldn’t undo it. All he could do was stare at the damage he had inflicted, helpless, terrified of what he’d become.

“___…” He whispers.

#jayce x reader #arcane imagine #arcane #arcane smut #jayce x reader smut #jayce talis x reader smut #jayce x reader angst #jayce talis angst #jayce talis smut #jayce arcane #jayce smut #jayce talis x reader angst

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sanemistar · 2 months ago

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⋅˚₊‧ ᡣ𐭩 it'll be okay, my love

𝜗𝜚 kento x fem!reader, hurt to comfort, reader gets called (dear, love, darling), dedicated to: @iid-smile (idk who’s ur fav jjk character so i guessed you might like nanami ! anyways, i hope you feel better soon pookie i love u <33) 𝜗𝜚 back: jjk m.list

kento comes back home from work and the first thing he sees is your crying face as you sob on the couch in the living room, holding onto one of your husband's sweaters. his first reaction is to immediately run over to you and wrap you in a tight hug.

you have been feeling down lately and you’ve been crying a lot, but you’ve been trying hiding your sadness away from him because you don't want to worry him. you know kento has a lot to worry about on his plate, so the last thing you want is to add up to his burden.

however, unknowingly to you, kento has heard your small cries all along, and it has pained him every time. but whenever he asks you if you're okay you'd always reply that you're fine and there's nothing for him to worry about with a little smile.

"life's too hard, ken. i keep saying that i have to be strong, but i just can't do it." you've tried your best, you really have. but at that moment you've finally reached your breaking point, and you can no longer bottle your feelings up.

your tears that have been kept inside for too long begin to heavily fall down your red cheeks like a rainfall as you rest your head on kento's broad, firm chest. your arms wrapped around his torso for dear life. he pats your head with one hand, as his other one rubs your back up and down in a soothing motion, you begin to calm down as the crying slowly stops. he breaks the hug and cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caress your hot cheeks as he wipes away the remaining tears.

"you've been holding on for too long now, have you, dear?" kento whispers softly against your ears. his tone is so gentle and comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold day. the look in his eyes is as soft as a feather.

“but i’m here for you, and always will be. you’re okay now, it'll be okay, my love.” kento reassures your as he tenderly kisses your temple, and you finally smile genuinely again for the first time in a while.

“i love you, so so much, kento.” you hum softly as you confess your love to your husband. he leans in, closing the gap between the two of you. his lips find home onto yours as they collide in a deep kiss that is so tender, so intimate and so affectionate.

“i love you too, my one and only, my darling.”

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @yueliie @spkyssn @ayrastv @sylusdoll

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queenpiranhadon · 4 months ago

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HII you commented on my post :’) 🎀

can I request pro hero bakugou x pro hero reader where reader usually pick up their kid(s) from daycare alone since BK is busy and usually gets home late:( and that kinda made their kid(s) upset and ignore their dad at home and cry really loud in front of reader secretly. So like reader came up with an idea to surprise the kid(s) and told BK to change his schedule or else reader will whoop his ass. So like the next day BK and reader went to daycare together and instead of reader standing behind the glass door it’s BK and that made their kid(s) go crazy and jumpy 🥺 thank you 💗

Idk I was watching this reel and got a lil inspired ~ https://www.instagram.com/jaxon.trevor/reel/CsTuZLUofpg/?igsh=MTNuZHY3ZDEwMnNoZA==

A/N: HIII SORRY THIS TOOK ME A WHILE AHAHAH BUT I LOVED WRITING THIS IT WAS SO CUTEEE Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Mild cursing, f!reader, your kids love you, pre-established relationship (you two are married), you have twins, Katsuki loves you, just fluffy fluff with like the mildest angst if you squint really hard.

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴅᴀʏᴄᴀʀᴇ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It's late. You were in the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner, as your husband finally relaxes in your shared bedroom after a long patrol. It was always like this, Katsuki getting home late, and you were left to take care of your two children in the meantime.

You didn't blame him, of course, you knew how hard he worked, given that he was the number 2 pro hero and with that came a lot of responsibilities. You yourself were number 5, which meant you also had a lot of missions, but thankfully since you ran your own agency, you could manage your schedules easier to be able to pick up your kids from daycare every day.

However, your twins, Kasumi and Akio, weren't as understanding as you were when it came to your husband's attendance at home.

You understood their pain, but tried to keep an open mind for the sake of your family. However, after a two month long mission that Katsuki was sent on, he had consequently missed your birthday, something that might've upset you slightly, but you didn't think it was a big deal.

The twins, however did. They were furious at this point, sobbing as they clung onto your shirt, snot and tears soaking the fabric, but you didn't mind, rubbing their backs comfortingly. You thought it was sweet, how much they cared, but they little voice in the back of your head agreed with them, if only a little. Katsuki was never at home anymore, and to be honest, you missed him.

When he came back, you welcomed him with open arms, but the twins had just peaked their heads out of their rooms before retreating back, as if this was a normal occurrence.

You sigh, and look back at Katsuki, who had a heartbroken expression on his face.

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to your shared bedroom, squeezing his hand softly and getting ready for bed.

Katsuki gets changed but only sits on the bed, and you lie down next to him.

"What's on your mind, love?"

He grunts and looks away, conflicted before looking back at you.

"Do...do the twins hate me?" he mutters, and you frown softly.

"No...they don't hate you Kats, they just...wish you were around more."

Your husband frowns, and you can see the guilt swimming in the depths of his vermillion eyes.

"Maybe you can pick them up from daycare tomorrow?" You suggest, as Katsuki still hasn't said a word.

Katsuki frowns. "But my schedule-"

"Katsuki Bakugou if you do not pick up your children from school tomorrow then I'm sleeping on the couch for a month." You retort back before he can finish.

Your husband's eyes widen, realizing that you've got him stuck. If it really came down to it, he would gladly sleep on the couch if you wanted him to - but you knew he loved you too much to subject you to the same fate.

"Damn it, fine. Don't you dare threaten me like that again, woman." he grumbles and you smile up at him victoriously.

"Awww you love me." you coo, and you kiss his arm softly before tugging him gently to join you under the covers.

Katsuki watches you drift away to sleep, cheek half smushed against his bare chest and he can't help the dorky smile that stretched across his face.

He loved you so, so much. More than you would ever know.

Encircling his strong arms around you, he hold you close, making a mental note to take you out for a nice date tomorrow as well, before drifting off to sleep as well.

When he wakes, you're gone, with a note on the fridge that says that you left to drop the kids off and that you'd be back after work. He chuckles, and decides to clean up the house in the meantime.

He can't remember the last time he had a day off, it felt weird, to be honest. He felt restless, and so he did everything and anything to keep himself occupied while taking a majority of the burden you had off your shoulders.

Once the house was clean, he rifled through your closet, picking out the sundress he loved - accentuating your curves while the color brought out everything he loved about you, which was well, everything.

When you return home, Katsuki's getting changed into some nice clothes, surprising you as he tells you to go shower and get ready while he picks up the kids.

You're most definitely surprised, wondering where all of this is coming from, but you can't say you're upset about him, giggling softly and deciding to play along, feeling your heart warm as you hear the car door shut.

Katsuki parks the car in the parking lot, and approaches the building, giddy but slightly nervous at the same time. What if the kids still hated him? Would he be able to make things better?

However all his worried disappeared the moment he saw his kids' overjoyed faces at seeing him.

Their eyes brighten and they scream excitedly, bolting towards him with speed that was almost inhuman, tackling him and almost knocking him down.

"DADDY!!!!!" Kasumi squealing, leaping up and attaching herself to his leg.

Akio looks up at him, agape. "You-you're actually here?!"

Katsuki chuckles and ruffles his son's hair lovingly."Yeah, I am, bud. M'sorry I couldn't pick ya up sooner...Ya know how hero work is."

The kids nod, hugging him tightly as his hefts them up to sit on either of his hips.

"C'mon you two. We're gonna go surprise yer mama when he get home, got it? We'll take out her somewhere nice."

The twins look at each other micheviously and nod vigorously. "Daddy's in looooove" they sing, giggling uncontrollably.

Katsuki chuckles and can't help but feel his heart flutter at the thought of you.

"Yeah, Daddy's in love all right."

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artytaeh · 5 months ago

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idk if you write a lot about mattheo, but I loveee him heehehe. I feel like Mattheo is the guy that sleeps around A LOT but only has one or two girls he really dates, and is loyal to them. She's probably one of of pansy's friends too, so they are very close in the friend group. He would also make it very obvious and be very touchy, like if there's a group hangout or sleepover he's holding your thigh or waist, and when you guys lay down you're ON TOP of him, like he wants you and will make it knownnnnn. Anyways he's such a pookie even if he's a psycho he's cute.

hey love! omg i love to receive asks, thank you for interacting! 🌷 and you're so right about this.

i mainly write theodore nott, however mattheo riddle is a close second (i have many drafts about him </3) along with lorenzo berskhire, in the future.

I FEEL LIKE MATTHEO RIDDLE avoids getting attached to other people, hence why he rarely sleeps with the same person thrice. two times at maximum, really— specially if mattheo finds them really pretty or a good company.

full-on distances himself: would only stop avoiding them until he's perceived as an asshole and 'not worth it', since it saves him from a possible situationship that could turn out to be a big, big crush.

but you, pansy's friend? oh boy, that was disaster waiting to happen. pansy, from his friendgroup, who gets invited and dragged to each of their hangouts? pansy parkinson, your best friend that brings you with her each time, since the boys don't want to go out without pansy, and she won't go without you.

it's a simple equation, really. no you? no pansy. no pansy? no hangout. for the hangout, pansy must come, which equals to your presence there too. mattheo riddle sees you so many times that:

he'll give up on his friends (never happening. mattheo riddle gave his heart to them and he'd never admit this, but the closest thing he has of a family is them.) so he won't have to see you so many times,

or he will grow some pants and not steal one single glance. mattheo riddle is perceived as a very attractive slytherin amongst other students— he doesn't need your attention.

but god. you're such a cruel little minx, and you don't even notice it.

mattheo looks at you and it's like you have him bewitched, because thoughts and more thoughts silence whatever isn't about you inside his mind. and that blossoms some cravings within him.

like, listening to your voice. will nonchalantly ask pansy about something that you like, as in your favorite subject, or whatever the fuck you do as a hobby.

it could be the most boring thing for mattheo, to the point where he thinks that he might die out of boredom. however, as he smokes a cigarette, staring at everywhere but you, mattheo will find a way to get this interest of yours as the main topic.

and then you won't shut up.

mattheo smokes a whole cigarette (and even a second one, for the sake of having you talking more and more) while he listens to you.

god, aren't you thirsty? you haven't shut up. and you know what? he likes it. your voice. it might get into a very dangerous point where mattheo will smoke, staring at the wall, while imagining this voice of yours as moans. or even worse: telling him reassuring, sweet words.

he's down bad. and he'll blame pansy for it.

he'll sleep with you just one more time. this next party will be the last time that it'll happen. and then, goodbye! because mattheo riddle can deal with pansy parkinson chasing him around with the intent of ripping those dark curls out of his stupid head!

except that pansy is a scary slytherin and god, one warning glare of hers, is enough for mattheo straighten up his posture as he guides you to his bedroom, mid party.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo can look like a fucking hunting dog when he puts some effort to it. sat behind you, as you obliviously go through another boring class— those dark eyes becoming threatening as he carefully looks at each. single. desk.

trying to get one miserable unlucky fool who might have an eye on you. so that he can give a warning that would soon spread around school like a bloody virus.

mattheo waits for you to leave the classroom first. then, menacingly, mattheo will make his way to the prick who couldn't get his eyes off you— a little warning, one that the entirety of hogwarts and their mothers know to be a very serious threat, and baam. 🗯️

no more love interests. no competition. at parties, mattheo is a bloody falcon to anyone who approaches you for a dance. sometimes you might be enjoying yourself, dancing along the beat, drunk in your owm enjoyment to notice how mattheo pushes a guy away from your back, yeeting them to the other corner of the dancefloor.

just in case someone steals you away from him. mattheo justifies his actions as being selfish, because he's a bad person. and bad people selfishly keep what they like for themselves.

and god, mattheo loves your company. even if it's platonic or more than that, he'd be damned if someone got you too busy to be dragged along with pansy to their hangouts.

hangouts become smoking sessions with all the group, some smoking, others making company (and mama blaise making sure that not more than two cigarettes are smoked). smoking sessions become outings to hogsmeade, which mattheo likes to pretend to be dates sometimes.

like, 'really, fuck off theodore i can't hear that fucking accent of yours anymore'— so you'll go with him, right? there's this thing he needs to buy. oh, you need to go to the bathroom? what he coincidence, he needs too. might as well go look for one with you. ahh, so there's this bullshit you wanna buy? mattheo rolls his eyes and sure, he'll accompany you; who knows what a gal like you might stumble against if he's not there just in case.

and as you said: physical contact! will wrap an arm around your shoulders, casually, as you walk with the group or the whole lot of you are standing somewhere, while waiting for class to start. if you're sitting in the common room? hand on your thigh, squeezing it every so often, not even conscious about it as he talks with his friends. or even one arm around your waist, as his fingers feel the curve from your ribcage to your hipbone.

then comes the sleepovers as you said, love! 🌷

it started as a girls' night for gossip. obviously, blaise joins in (he's one of the girls, alright?) and lorenzo follows him instantly because this man knows gossip from many different sources.

draco goes too, hating to be one to be left out. if blaise goes, he's coming too— and theodore, well, there will be snacks; besides, he doesn't feel like being alone tonight. mattheo riddle, on the other hand, was the first one to want to join the girls (you) but was waiting for the others to say the first word, so it's less suspicious for him to join.

this first sleepover becomes a slow tradition for the group; unless there's exams preventing you to do so, then this happens weekly. even if someone has a boyfriend or girlfriend expecting some quality time during this night? nuh-huh, sleepovers at pansy's are sacred.

once, theodore left to spend the night with some ravenclaw; the whole room boo-ed him so bad that theo got seriously offended.

the only problem that might surface is how many people pansy's room is meant to take. you see, if it was only the two of you, it'd be perfectly okay; but now there's five boys expecting a good night of sleep.

nevermind if pansy's plans were to have you two sharing the bed to cuddle; a few hours later, mattheo will have you sleeping on top of him (he's warmer!) and sincerely might have the most peaceful sleep with the reassuring weight of you on top of him. should you fall asleep first, mattheo will glare and shush at the other boys, if they happen to make too much noise.

also protects your sleep. if one of them grabs a pen to draw on your face, mattheo won't let that happen. mysteriously, when the hilarious clown (who suggested this idea) woke up in the morning, his whole face was doodled. ha. i wonder who did it.

HOWEVER, mattheo riddle would also be hot and cold. yes and no, clingy and distant.

as soon as some progress is made, or things are the slightest verbalized— mattheo riddle will distance himself so well, that you'll barely catch glimpses of him for a few hours or days.

then, he's all over you; snatching you from a conversation or full-on passing by you on a hallway, picking you up with him and carrying you for some alone time. might be making out, requiring your presence as he smokes (sometimes, he won't even encourage you to talk your tongue off) or sex. this happens when mattheo can't handle how much he misses you anymore.

those days spent apart are already known by the boys. at first, he's a bit silent, overthinking and distant from conversations. then, mattheo gets increasingly moody, rolling his eyes at everything and telling them to shut the fuck up— which, okay, moody much?

it's at this point that lorenzo and theodore exchange knowing glances, and soon draco joins in to participate on the bet of how long it'll take mattheo riddle to crawl back to you.

blaise thinks the bet is stupid— and so he bets the shortest amount of time with all the confidence in the world.

( unsurprisingly he's the one who won the bet. lorenzo accuses him of having mattheo telling him stuff in secret. )

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

this is in case some romantic, possessive feelings blossom between the two of you, or at least within mattheo.

however, the idea of him having one or two girls with whom he goes out on dates or fucks more than three times, a bit more platonically—that's something i can see happening too.

so hear me out,

this one person that makes it obvious that things between the two of are reciprocated. mattheo doesn't want a relationship, you don't want a relationship. he likes to fuck you, you like getting fucked by him. and things are never blurred lines; it seems natural, really. and so it becomes a weird type of friends with benefits because it's not like a real friendship, more of that person you know, you're attracted to, yet are no feelings envolved.

which is perfect for mattheo because thank merlin he doesn't have to go full-on asshole with you and run away around school, like the other six times he did so.

will ask you out on a date a few times, and accept to go on some with you; dates, because that's what outsiders would conclude at the sight of the two of you. in reality, those are more like hangouts, to suppress that silent craving of something more than superficial attraction.

will wrap his arm around you, indulge you, probably pay for your meal or some bullshit you found cool while window shopping. definitely walks you to your dorm, making sure that you got there safely.

will let you sleepover at his bedroom or rest a little before taking his shit and flee out of your bedroom. is more careless with you (in a way that he'll indulge these little things, overstaying and not running away) than with other girls, since he's not afraid to give you hope on something that won't ever happen.

might go to your bedroom if he's having a bad day, or needing to vent. might smoke a cigarette as he does so— and have the decency of doing this near the window, so he won't get your bedroom all smelly from the tobacco or with foggy due to the smoke. should you barge in his room for something similar, well, mattheo is all ears to you, too.

i feel like mattheo would genuinely care about this girl, even if it's platonically so. sincerely sees her as a friend, even though he won't tell you— mattheo hates to sound emotional or attached.

and if you get a serious fling or someone you like?

mattheo will tell you something like, 'yeah, yeah; just don't come back to my bed.' — which might sound so infuriatingly arrogant of him, but the little smile he gives you, reveals the intention behind it: if you don't come back to him, then you won't continue this friends with benefits thing for the sake of satisfying each other's void for something more that both of you are scared to have, well, then that means that you're happy. that you finally found someone for you.

after that, you'll only exchange glances. if mattheo passes by you in the hallway, he'll greet you, or at least nod in acknowledgement of your presence. things might be over, but i feel like mattheo would still have a space for you in his heart— as in, you've become someone that he actually has a lot of consideration for.

and god forbids this boyfriend of yours turns out to be an asshole; mattheo will gladly land him to the infirmary wing, for the sake of an opportunity to think about what he's done.

hey, mattheo riddle does care about you. you're like, a strange friendship to him. might come to you and ask you if you're alright, if you need anything.

but then he'll tease you— you have the worst taste for men, cuz hey, you remember that you did more than just fuck him once, right?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

what would be funny is if these two situationships happen at the same time. because i feel like this fwb one might give the scolding that mattheo needs.

truthfully, mattheo wouldn't admit this weird attachment to you not even to theodore; that's how in denial he is. however, mattheo will ask this fwb about her opinion, or even seek some advice.

in conclusion: i totally feel like mattheo riddle is pretty loyal to these two girls, in different ways; one of them he'd slowly work on fighting over his commitment issues, while the other is a strange type of best friend whom he'd still defend her honor— nevermind if you don't fuck him anymore.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— tysm for interacting with me! your ask got me giggling and created a whole brainrot because seriously, i can see this 100% happening.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#slytherin boys #headcanons #slytherin boys react #hp fandom #hp fanfic #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin #sbr #mattheo riddle imagine

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midwestprincesss · 5 months ago

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okay since u asked for some nasty shit here’s smth i can’t get off my mind. idk how to decsribe it but i imagine patrick or art would have no problem sharing a girlfriend with each other. like cuckolding but just for the fun of it. i’m going crazy thinking of the things patrick would be saying while watching his gf and art fucking in front of him

YESSS!!!!!!! patrick watching art fuck you and not shutting tf up😵‍💫

all three of you are on the bed, you and art actually fucking and patrick is just watching, stroking his cock. and he's telling art what to do- but it's just for his own pleasure, 'cause patrick is fucking selfish.

"fuck- that's it- wait, take your dick out" patrick instructed his friend, and he listened and pulled out of you. "dip your fingers in her and show me how wet she is. wanna see 'em glisten"

and art did as he was told- both boys somehow ignoring the fact that you were actually in the room with them. art and patrick were gushing about your arousal coating art's fingers and you just stood there, bucking your hips into nothing.

"please guys- stop doing that, just fuck me. fuck me, art, please" you pleaded, but art just shushed you.

"just wait a little bit, sweetheart-" patrick cooed as he lovingly squeezed your thigh, still not touching you where you needed. "lemme clean them up" patrick continued, this time speaking to art, as he took his fingers into his mouth, tasting your pussy indirectly. "fuck, she tastes so good art- you gotta try it"

and art now took his fingers out of patrick's mouth, putting them into his- but patrick slapped his hand away. "no, art. i meant eat her out."

and art obliged, of course he did. he loved you and he loved patrick too- but his feelings towards his best friend were so repressed- the only way he could show his love to him without feeling guilty was through you. doing whatever patrick tells him to do to you.

and so there he was, head between your thighs, tongue lapping at your folds.

"fuuuuuck" patrick groaned, circling his wet tip with his thumb. "rub her clit, art. we want our girl to feel really good, don't we?" he asked, and art hummed at that, sending vibrations through your pussy. your thighs squeezed around his head.

"nuh uh, open up-" patrick said as tapped your thigh, and you spread your legs again. "atta girl" he praised you, and with that you were cumming.

you soon started pushing art's mouth away from you, getting overstimulated- but patrick didn't give a shit about that. "art, slap your dick on her pussy. wanna hear those sweet little whimpers of hers" and so art did what he was told, rubbing his tip at your entrance and slapping his dick onto your pussy, all while you were a whimpering mess.

"soo cute, baby. you sound adorable. keep those coming, i'm almost there" patrick praised you again, stroking his dick faster and faster until he finally came, his cum landing on him, and both you and art.

"man, be so fucking serious, you could've at least waited for me" art groaned, pointing to his dick which was still really fucking hard.

"don't worry, you can fuck her throat. she loves that shit. i'll show you how" patrick said, tapping your cheek as you got up on your knees.

"thaaat's it. good girl. now open wide-" he continued, holding your hair up in a ponytail as art's dick was resting on your cheek. "stick out your tongue, let him rub his tip on it-" and patrick took art's dick in his other hand, rubbing it on your tongue.

you were like two cute little dolls for him. there for him to play with you however he pleases.

#challengers #patrick zweig #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader #challengers throuple #challengers smut #artick smut #art donaldson x patrick zweig #artick #artick x reader

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namisin · 6 months ago

Text

❝ HOPE WHEN THE MOON GOES—

(—THAT YOU DON'T GO.)

⚝ pairing : gojo satoru x reader.

⚝ synopsis : satoru likes you to a painful degree, dare he say he loves you. everyone but you can see it. the problem? you only want to be friends (with benefits).

⚝ content : 18+, fem reader, tiniest bit of angst, fwbs to lovers, oral (m receiving), college au, piv, pet names, brief mention of dubcon? (drunk reader), mentions of alcohol, rated w for whiny gojo, pet name(s), prὁne-bone, possessiveness, praise bc he's just a sweetie, choking, reader is spoiled but so is he, MDNI.

⚝ word count : 3.2k | 11 min read. y'all idk how this happened

⚝ a/n : gege please dpwm i need my man back this INSTANT. but tysm u guys for the warm welcome !! like, comment &/or reblog for smooches on the mouf ♡

𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 friday night, another club outing satoru did not wanna be on.

granted, it was a setting that would otherwise be right up his alley. satoru was the life of the party after all, the loudest one in the room without fail. but he could distinctly remember the point before your arrangement began, and after.

it didn't matter before that he could get anyone he wanted, have any warm body take up space in his king-sized bed. it didn't matter that you could do the same; dance up on anyone, grind your perfect ass against them until they had no presence of mind but to follow your piper's song to the nearest empty room. then regale your best friends with the details the next morning.

however, after the first time you propositioned him, drunk out of your mind but purring in his lap like a needy cat, it only became harder and harder for him to keep his hands to himself in public. his patience to wait out these parties to get you home wore thinner, to the point of near-nonexistence. obnoxiously thrumming bass, bodies smacking together like mindless fish caught in a net, having to yell and strain to hear his friends standing less than a foot in front of him...things he never minded at all before became all too fucking annoying.

but you've always acted as his life raft, bidding his escape with a, "wanna get out of here, toru?"

and he followed every single time, ignoring shoko's wiggling eyebrows and geto's smirking as you led the way out the door. their jeering bounced right off his skin; he felt damn-near invincible knowing he'd be having his own kind of fun, with much better music.

tonight was no different. you stood by the bar, drumming your fingers against the counter while waiting for the bartender to return with two drinks. satoru's eyes roved over your body shamelessly over the rim of oval glasses, taking in the expanse of your legs that weren't covered by your leather miniskirt and the way your top hugged to your figure. he approached with his bottom lip tucked, much like his hands in the pockets of his pants.

by the time he arrived to stand next to you, the glasses were placed down with a muted "clunk," just barely perspiring as his usual was passed into his freed palm.

"my saviour," he greeted, bent over at the waist to let the words brush against your ear, "what would i do without you?"

"mmm-mm," you shrugged, grinning in return, "probably die of thirst."

satoru exhaled sharply through his nose, rightening his posture to take a sip of his drink. he caught the double entendre he wasn't even sure you meant to drop — there was a constant thirst inside him that you really were the only cure for. a thirst to hear you whine and beg for him, call him toru in that sweet tone that made him want to legally shorten his name.

another long sip.

the way he wanted, no needed, you was almost obsessive. he knew that. but could he be blamed? you were pure temptation wrapped in the most enticing body; you were the raging flame and he was but a moth, acting on pure instinct to capture that warmth for his own. every night he spent with you was a testament to that effort, prodding and caressing your body in every way he knew how. he pulled every trick out of his book to have you writhing on his sheets. satoru was sure the neighbours hated you both, but at least they knew his name well.

"you lovebirds coming over to the table?" shoko raised a thin brow at the pair of you, an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips.

"lovebirds? sho please, you know better," you laughed, crossing the space to link arms with her.

ah. satoru felt a twinge of something pinch in his chest. that problem still remained.

he worshipped the ground you walked on, blessed your name like you were his deity, but you still only saw him as a friend. granted, he was a friend with extensive benefits, but a friend nonetheless. hell, for as long as you two have had this arrangement, you've never spent a full night with him — instead opting to scoop your clothes off the floor, grab a quick shower and bid him a soft goodnight, simultaneously calling yourself an uber as you left his apartment.

his face was much dimmer following behind you and shoko, having dropped a small wad of cash he didn't count on the bar-top, and he drew his glass back to his lips in an attempt to quell that pinching feeling.

it wasn't as if he never offered for you to stay the night, never lifted his messy sheets on the opposite side he always kept vacant for you. but, it was hard to stay persistent when you always answered with some variation of, "thanks toru, but we're just friends, remember? i don't wanna make it weird for us."

he watched your hips sway under your skirt with a furrow in his brow. the hem flapped around the very tops of your thighs, drawing other eyes that weren't his own cerulean pair to its attention. he itched to make a show of you being his — maybe throw an arm over your shoulders or lean down to peck your lips — but knew how well (not well at all) it would go down with the other party if you caught on.

it just meant he had to be the one to get you out of there sooner.

satoru let you have your fun, down a responsible-enough number of shots, twist your hips this way and that on the dancefloor with geto and shoko. they both towered over you, almost forming a protective ring of raven black and coffee brown around your twirling body, and he was grateful for it. the imagery alone of some other person creeping up behind you, grabbing at your waist in an attempt to steal a dance, was enough to tighten that vulnerable spot in his chest.

after downing the rest of his second drink, he stood, leaving another roll of money in shoko's purse and making a beeline for you on the dancefloor. geto parsed him with a knowing look as he squeezed passed them, shoko only gave a thumbs up and a wide grin. they both knew all about what went on between you two, and they knew all too well how much satoru pined over you.

if it wasn't the way he looked at you, or the way he'd mindlessly put his hands on the small of your back, on your hips, around your shoulders, then it'd have to be the fact that he grouched about it at every given opportunity. the minute you left him alone, he'd go on and on until one of them had to smack him in the back of the head to shut up.

so, watching him slot his hips to yours, immediately winding them in tandem to the beat, they understood quickly to leave the pair of you to your little world.

"let me take you out of here, y/n," he murmured, you spun in his toned arms to settle into his torso. your arms circled his neck as he pushed his nose closer to yours to bump them together.

"you stole my line," you drawled, "getting impatient on me, toru?"

satoru bit back a groan, the way you spoke coupled with the eyes you gave him from beneath the canopy of your lashes was staggering.

"maybe i am, you're holdin' out on me."

you blew a raspberry of a laugh at his frown, "you saw me last night, you baby."

"twenty-four whole hours too long."

your eyes rolled unconsciously, he could be such a little shit when he didn't have his way. still, you were never one to deny him.

"take me home then, before you start sobbing for pussy in the club."

a triumphant beam overtook his face at that, he actively disregarded the teasing lilt to your words. all he heard was "take me home," and it was like you waved kikufuku in his face.

he picked up you up easily, princess-style, making you squeal and nearly kick a patron close by. you giggled out your apologies, but satoru was already leaving, carting you off to the exit of the club.

your back landed hard against his front door when he put you down again, and his body followed right behind. your lips crashed together with fervor, teeth colliding and tongues looping around each other. you mewled so sweetly into his mouth as his hands wandered up under your top, grabbing hold of your tits over your bra. his cock twitched in its confines, you had an effect on him that would be scary if he didn't relish in it so much.

"lose this shit already," satoru huffed against your lips while tugging the hem of your blouse upwards. you obliged with the nth roll of your eyes, and with the top gone, you pulled him back down for another searing kiss.

you marked your path downward after switching your positions, pushed his shirt up to his chest to lick a wet stripe down his abs, until you came face-to-face with the sizeable bulge in his pants. he smoothed your hair away from your face while you pulled his belt buckle apart. an exhale stuttered in his chest — you mouthed around his bulge from the outside of his boxer-briefs, though with the sounds satoru made, you may as well have shoved the whole thing into your mouth.

deciding to end his misery, you hooked your manicured fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock free to smack against your cheek. you licked another matching stripe up the underside, shadowing the pulsing trail that was his most dominant vein, then kitten-licked at his slit once you hit the peak.

with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the other on his thigh, you took his pretty pink tip into your mouth, and his face absolutely crumpled.

satoru groaned, long and low, his head thumping against the door as it was thrown back. you could feel the corners of your mouth tingling from the stretch, straining a little to fit around his girth despite making this journey countless times by now.

he stammered out a hiss when his tip hit the back of your throat, you would've laughed if not for the fact that you desperately held off your gag reflex. his grip on your hair tightened, coming to hold it in a fist to both keep the hair out of your face and guide your movements as you sunk further down his length. you breathed through your nose and willed your throat to relax, more broken sounds sprang from his lips as you let him in.

"f-fuck, just like that, pretty," he praised hoarsely, gently bobbing your head up and down his length with his grip on your hair. you powered through the tears flooding your lashline and the rivulets of spit accumulating to drip down your chin.

while he worked your mouth, you pried your lids apart to peer up at him, eyes rimmed red and pupils blown wide.

and that was his undoing.

his body tensed hard as he held your head down, nose right up against his pelvis and tickled with snow-white hairs. his abdomen spasmed under the point of it, undulating as he painted your throat white.

"you're so fucking good to me," he mumbled against your lips after helping you back to your feet. satoru, of course, was the shameless type to make the fuck out with you right after dumping his cum into your mouth; and he did just that. he picked you up again while his tongue swiped over yours, blindly walking you up the stairs to his bedroom.

he plopped you down unceremoniously, pulling your legs apart to sink between them. you'd lost the skirt somewhere along the way, that left nothing but your thong to separate you from satoru's still-leaking, still-hard dick. however, even those got ripped down your legs and tossed to the side — every article of clothing was a victim in his ever-expanding need for you.

"i need to fuck you, will you le'me fuck you?" he babbled in a pitchy, fissured voice, circling your clit with his fingers. he dipped them shallowly in and out of your hole to smear your wetness right across your folds. all he needed was for you to nod the affirmative before he was rapidly replacing his digits with the head of his cock, gathering your syrupy arousal to drench him.

"just suckin' me off has you this wet, hmm? i knew you liked me."

"sh-shut up and put it in already, toru- hate it when you tease."

satoru snickered, but complied, grabbing at your legs again to flip your body over. he knew you loved getting fucked prone the most, you didn't even hesitate to grab a pillow to hold on to. something about the way you seemed to scream for him that much louder, claw at the sheets and burble for him to give you more more more— made it his new favourite position too.

so, with little hesitation, he positioned and pushed his cock into you, slowly enough for you to adjust to his girth. your eyes rolled back almost immediately, the way he filled you up could never get old.

you mewled into the pillow once he found a good starting pace, dragging his cock deliciously slow against your spongy walls. still, it was only a taste of what you knew he could give to you.

"more, toru, want more- shit!"

you barely started getting the greedy words out before satoru was settling a hand on the small of your back, using it and his palm flat against the bed as leverage to drill into you. now that he knew you were adjusted, he didn't hold back — what kind of guy would he be if he didn't give his girl everything she wanted (and then some)?

drool and tears soaked into the white pillowcase while your sticky essence doused his cock, collecting in a ring at the plinth of it. repetitive strings of "fuck yes!" mingled with his deep groans to ring throughout the room, bouncing off the walls in conjunction with his hips bouncing off your plush ass. he couldn't help but free up a palm to smack it, then two, three more times when he heard how much more noisy it made you.

"g'nna cum for me? yea?" he took note of the way you started to quake beneath him, your cunt clenching and releasing uncontrollably around his length. he knew your tells by now, and that quiver in your moans told him everything without you needing to say a word. satoru secured his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough at the sides for your brain to go foggy and remaining thoughts turn to mush.

like a thief in the night, your orgasm stole through you, bringing the simmer in your blood to a boil. heat flashed through your body, collecting to pulse through the walls of your cunt that clamped down against satoru's battering. with another ruined groan, he was right behind you, cock twitching and throbbing wildly inside you. rope after rope splattered your insides, though that didn't stop his hips from jerking in a fractured pattern.

you both came down panting. you turned in his arms to look up at him, his softened eyes were already centered on your face. as mean as he was when he fucked, he was always otherwise gentle with you — tender in a way that made a part of you melt with every touch. but he was your friend, and you both had a good system going. what would be the point of ruining it?

"what're you thinkin' about so hard already?" satoru's usual pouty cadence returned quick, successfully knocking your thoughts off track.

"i need a shower," was your only reply, and you moved to crawl from beneath him. your bed-partner's features toppled into a genuine frown; he knew exactly what that meant.

you were leaving him again.

but he wouldn't let it happen this time, not if he could help it.

"wait, y/n," he moved to gently grasp your arm before you could scoot off the edge of the bed. you turned to him with question in your gaze.

"let me join you," he propositioned, and a hint of a smile pulled at your lips.

"i don't know if i have the stamina left, toru."

"i won't- we can just shower. y'know, together," he started, freeing your arm to rub at the back of his neck, "and you could, y'know, stay."

your expression turned wry, "toru, you know why i can't-"

"no, actually, y/n. i don't," he scowled, "why can't you? why don't you? we've been close enough for so long, slept together for so long. you know i can take care of you."

exasperated, you stood. he followed quick, moving to hold your arms again. even in his own displeasure, he was mild. you were melting again.

"you tell me all the time we're just friends, but what if- what if i want more? need more, than just friendship with you?"

you gawped up at him, blinking in place of something to say. of course, you always had a kind of a feeling — satoru was not the man known for his subtlety — but it was another thing to hear him say it to you, much less with this desperately pleading intonation.

"satoru, i..." you sighed, "i can't fuck this- we can't fuck this up. you're too precious to me."

"but what if we don't? you're precious to me too, y/n, more than you even know."

and for all you knew, he could be right. he was always sweet with you — patient, attentive, doting, so painfully soft. it wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed your mind before, either. you contemplated staying with him several times before, fantasized on what a 'morning after' — many 'morning-afters' — would even look like. but shit, what would you do if you one of you found a way to mess things up? topple a best-friendship you've had going for more years than you could even trace back?

"i just- i can't lose you, satoru."

"you won't. you're stuck with me forever, pretty, we promised."

he moved to cup your cheeks, holding your face akin to the way someone held precious china.

"i like you way too much. shit, at this point i think i love you."

your bottom lip wobbled. this snow-haired fuck really did always make it hard to say no to him.

"i-i like you too, toru. a lot."

"so you'll stay," he gleamed, making a statement more than he was asking a question, "please say you'll stay."

"yes, toru, fine. i'll stay."

with his smile still very much in place, he leaned down to kiss you.

god, he couldn't wait to finally wake up to you tomorrow.

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yourbloodysunrise · 5 months ago

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Hi!! I see you do requests, Can you do Ninjago, All the main ninjas [Like Lloyd, kai, nya, Cole, jay,zane] with a reader who's definitely, taller than them? I think it'll be a cute dynamic ^^ Romantic headcanons please and thank u!

🌤 — thanks for request, anon!that sounds cute and that was fun to writing :3

🌤 — I write from shortest to longest in my opinion, enjoy!

❝ How you can be so tall? ❞

— FANDOM: NINJAGO

— PAIRING: MAIN NINJAS X TALL!READER

— ROMANTIC

— HEADCANONS

— READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL

— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC, IDK WHY SOME HCS SHORTER THAN OTHERS☠

LLOYD:

☆ ┈ The picture is definetly describes his reaction.

☆ ┈ He is unlikely to be surprised, considering that he is the shortest in the ninja group.

☆ ┈ Kai is constantly teasing him about this, and if you join him, he will feel betrayed.

☆ ┈ Lloyd will often use his abilities hoping to impress you.Look, he cool, he deserves you, right?

☆ ┈ He may behave a little childish with you, especially if you try to pick him up.

☆ ┈ No, seriously, he'll start twitching like a cat if you pick him up trying to get out.

☆ ┈ In the first episode of season 12, Lloyd was scared when an ordinary iron hand fell on his shoulder, just imagine that he jumps into your arms every time he gets scared, and this one too..

— "..."

— "...?"

— "Don't ask about it, okay?"

NYA:

☆ ┈ One of the two ninjas who really don't care about the reader's growth.

☆ ┈ Although, if you tease or make fun of her about this, she will start to get annoyed by your height difference.

☆ ┈ Nya usually the one who takes the initiative in your relationship more, like inviting you out, trying to pay for you and all that, and that looking a little fun from outside.

☆ ┈ If someone thinks that you are the head of a relationship, you will have to hold her to prevent her from breaking up the one who said it.

☆ ┈ Nya sincerely wants to be the one you rely on, not the other way around.

☆ ┈ I think in the early seasons it could have worked on her to create Samurai X.She could help you in battle if you can't handle it!

☆ ┈ You two have a energy like:

— "Excuse me, they asked for no pickles!"

— "👉👈"

☆ ┈ Change my mind.

JAY:

☆ ┈ When you first meet, his honest reaction will be: 😳

☆ ┈ Like..Dude, why are you so tall???Do you walk on stilts?Yes, definitely you are.Don't try to talk him out of it, he won't believe you.

☆ ┈ Only during your friendship he would stop paying attention to it, but when you start dating, he will start to fixate on it.

☆ ┈ Jay is, in fact, a tame lover. If you ask him to jump off the roof with you, he will do it without hesitation.

☆ ┈ However, he feel insecure about the fact that you are above him.In his fantasies, he's always supposed to protect, but it seems you're doing just fine without him..

☆ ┈ Sometimes he reminds himself the same way when Nya rejected him in the original series. He is constantly around you, trying to take care of you and makes incomprehensible clumsy hints that he hides as a joke.

☆ ┈ Please kiss the guy and tell him that you love him.He will instantly melt and forget about all his worries.

☆ ┈ His parents adore you!They always invite you to visit them and tell you about Jay as a child.Poor guy is dying of shame somewhere off-screen.

☆ ┈ He will start helping you more often during the fight. No matter how much he appreciates his friendship with the ninja, he cannot afford to leave you for even a second!No no, no way.

☆ ┈ Sometimes it can be dangerous for other ninjas because Jay is overprotective of you.

☆ ┈ Remind him that he has to stop praising you in front of other ninjas, otherwise he won't stop. It can get to the point where he starts talking to inanimate objects about how wonderful and cool you are!

— "Oh, look at how gracefully they fight!I'm so lucky.."

— "Jay, I literally got arrow in my leg."

— "We're not talking about you, Kai."

KAI:

☆ ┈ He's freaking out because his partner is taller than him, considering that he's tall enough himself.

☆ ┈ No, no, wait, HE should be the one above!Then why are you taller than him?!

☆ ┈ Kai thinks that it's not fair, because of this, he looks like a psychotic child whose mother refused to buy a chocolate bar.

☆ ┈ He will complain to Nya that he wants to be taller than you so that you admire him, but all the methods on how to grow up from Internet just don't work!

☆ ┈ Nya secretly tells you this, at first you don't pay attention to it, but then you notice that Kai is trying more and more to make you pay attention to him.

☆ ┈ Push away other ninjas to defeat the enemy himself, clear the way for you if there is a person on the way who could just be bypassed, or even do something dangerous to health to "impress" you..

☆ ┈ You start playing along with him, asking him to do something easy and then thank him as if he saved your life, or ask for help in a fight even with a weak opponent.This will give him confidence and he will be happy to do something for you and not even doubt that you need him.

☆ ┈ After that, he sees your height as a plus.He flaunts you in front of his fans, praising you and saying that you are the coolest in your team. Let his ego want him to be considered the best, we all know you will always be first in his priorities.

☆ ┈ Reminds Jay in way that he is always by your side in battle, however, if Jay is worried that you might get hurt, then Kai sees this as an opportunity to show you that he will protect you!

☆ ┈ Are annoying fans bothering you?Did some villain hold a personal grudge against you?Are you not as successful in training as other ninjas?Don't worry, Kai is always here for you!

— "Kai, I'm glad that you care about me so much, but sometimes you overdo it-"

— "Me?Overdo it?Don't be silly, babe, I'm just helping you at the right moment!"

— "But I could have opened that cookie jar myself!.."

— "Shh..No thanks needed, honey."

ZANE:

☆ ┈ Considering that he is slightly shorter than Cole (in my opinion), then you are the second tallest in the ninja team.

☆ ┈ In fact, Zane and Nya hardly worry about your height, except for a few details.

☆ ┈ He wants to make sure that your height doesn't upset you or cause you problems.For example, he always stops you before you bump your head against a low doorway.

☆ ┈ Only once he could ask you about your height, and only out of pure curiosity.Consider Zane the one who pays the least attention to your height out of the entire ninja group.

☆ ┈ Despite the fact that you are taller than him, he usually forgets about it.He is ready to carry you in his arms like a royal person just because in his opinion you deserve it.

☆ ┈ If someone makes fun of your height, Zane will just freeze them 😼

☆ ┈ Zane is definitely one of the best ninjas who behave with a tall reader.As I think he is generally very good in relationships, always caring and attentive to you, will help if you ask or notice that you cannot cope with the task.

☆ ┈ Often takes it upon himself to pamper you, because the ninjas does not have much time for do that myself.Expect that you will rest after training, and he is already standing next to you with his usual smile and outstretched gift.Don't even try to reject, he will stand his ground.

☆ ┈ Since his attitude will not differ from the reader who is shorter than him, consider that you just have a funny robot boyfriend who adores you.

☆ ┈ I'm sure that in the series you would be a favorite pair of ninja fans.

— "Could you bring me the salt from the top shelf?"

— "Sure thing, Zane."

— "Thank you."

COLE:

☆ ┈ Bro is confused...

☆ ┈ In my headcannons, he is the tallest ninja, so how did you manage to be taller than him?

☆ ┈ At first he is broken, but then he quickly remembers that he has a trump card up his sleeves: his strength.

☆ ┈ No matter how tall you are, Cole will be the strongest in the team anyway, so why did he worry about it?With that mind he calm up.

☆ ┈ In a few quarrels, he will always use it against you, especially if you touch on the topic of growth.Just tell him something and he will suddenly throw you up and grab you in his arms, grinning maliciously.

☆ ┈ You two look like the perfect dynamic: a tall dude and a strong dude.

☆ ┈ Like Kai, he often helps you with things that you could handle on your own.He usually doesn't need a reason for this, he just wants to help you and does it.

☆ ┈ He is your guard dog, manages to help you in battle and at the same time help other ninjas.

☆ ┈ I think he's the kind of guy who can fall in love at first sight, so he could be trying to impress you from the moment you met.

☆ ┈ Don't be offended by this guy when he teases you, he's just playing with you.Tell him to stop and he will stop.

☆ ┈ Cole sure that you are his destiny.He can't explain it, he just feels attracted to you.

☆ ┈ His father often write letters to you to find out how you and Cole are doing.No, not to Cole, to you.Although Lou is proud of his son, he considers you more responsible.

☆ ┈ Make a cake for guy and he will praise you as a deity.

— "How's the weather up there, sweetheart?"

— "Cole, I'm trying to train, can you be quiet for at least 5 minutes?"

..:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟﾞ｡.:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ🌤

🌤 — funny that I started it a long time ago, but I finished it in one day lol

🌤 — sorry for waiting anon, hope you like it☆

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