#Making him a little off (hehe) is necessary | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madamechrissy · 7 days ago

Text

Just Friends!?

-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-

Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and popular F! reader

Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.

Warnings - Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- this chap- explicit sex, shower sex, oral ( f receiving) lots of fluff, lots of emotions, mentions of past angst, an INSANE breed kink (reader and Toru hehe) cumplay, sweet whipped Satoru, they're so in lovvve.- WC- 7.8k

Based on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! 🌙 Taglist closed! -Comments/rbs appreciated <3

<<<Part Seven - Masterlist - Playlist- Part Nine>>> (soon)

Part Eight

You’ve never been on a plane.

You’ve driven everywhere, even out of state you’d get a car rental and just cruise, but Satoru has you on a plane in first class, headed to Hollywood. You’re so nervous, heart racing as you think of seeing him again, as you think of being in his arms. It’s only been a couple weeks, but a couple weeks feels like forever when it has been eight years without him.

The plane ride goes smoothly, despite your anxiety, a couple airport bottles may have been necessary for how panicked you were at first, so you may or may not be a little buzzed when you get off the plane. You step into the airport and the overwhelming amount of people surround you, you’re momentarily disoriented at just how many, walking past and rushing off.

You eye your phone then, before a big sign catches your attention, a dark haired man with glasses holding up your name on a huge sign. You giggle just a bit and walk over then, he smiles at you. “That would be me!”

“Perfect, I’m Ijichi. Mr. Gojo is waiting in the limo, he didn’t want to overwhelm you with too much attention if he came out.” You nod in understanding, certainly the paparazzi would be all over him. “Right this way, Miss.”

You follow him out, and through all of the rest of the enormous airport, the chaos makes you just a little dizzy. You can still feel the nerves even as you walk out into the much different climate than back home. It’s warm and sunny, there’s a dry heat you’ve never really felt entering your lungs as you inhale and exhale, shutting your eyes at how good it feels when Ijichi reaches a black limo.

The door opens and Satoru rushes out of the car, surprising you when he scoops you up in his arms, wearing some round Gucci shades and a big grin. You giggle and let him pick you up, twirling you like you’re a little feather in his strong hold, slamming his lips down. That’s when the tears well up, mixed with the laughter, how badly you missed this.

How can you miss something you didn’t have before so vividly? Now it feels the perfect and only place to be, his arms, clinging so tightly to him. He’s whispering your name over and over when cameras start flashing, you hear the clicks and feel eyes on the two of you then, not just paparazzi either, it’s random people gossiping.

“Satoru, baby they’re all watching…” You murmur then, and he glares at them for a moment, setting you down.

“Mr. Gojo, weren't you supposed to hide in the limo?”

“I got too excited,” he’s pouting as he looks down at you, cupping your face, you feel his eyes are only on you, feel the warmth of his touch as you grip his wrist gently. “Fuck I missed you.”

“I missed you more, um… are you okay with them seeing me?” He frowns a bit, caressing your jaw line tenderly, and it’s really just you two, nothing else at that very moment.

“I should ask you, I’d love everyone to know I have the prettiest fucking girl in the world.”

“You go on too much!”

“Wanna bet?” You’re giggling again even as he swipes your tears, and his bright, brilliant eyes look at you so lovingly.

“You hype me up a lot you know.”

“As I should,” he kisses you again, right as people are wondering who you are outside of LAX, you feel the warmth of the sun shining down as he tugs you closer. “Should give ‘em a show.”

“Oh gosh!”

“Blushing, cute.”

“You’re ridiculous!” He’s chuckling again, slipping back on his shades and then gesturing for you to climb in as Ijichi puts up your luggage in the trunk.

When Satoru’s back with you, he’s pressing your back against the seat, leaning on top and kissing every inch he can find, your face, your throat, your chest, all while you giggle breathlessly. You gasp when he’s at the base of your neck, his plush lips brushing on sensitive skin, god he missed you so much it takes everything not to fuck you right here.

He’s sure you want a shower, to relax a bit from a long flight with two layovers, so he holds back just a bit, keeping the touches teasing and sweet. Your lips are pliant under his, parting as his tongue slips through the seam, and he tastes your sweetness again.

“Mochi has nothing on you.”

“You’re too much!” You’re grinning against his lips now, and he sighs, leaning up to look down at you for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Hmm, wait… is that tequila!?” He’s lapping at your lips as if it’s an inspection, you burst out into more laughter.

“Maybe! Maybe I’m a little tipsy. Just this much.” You put your thumb and finger together, grinning now, he can’t help but laugh with you, infectious as ever, studying your precious face and wondering how he ever went without it.

“You’re good and drunk, I can’t take advantage of you.”

“Not even, take all the advantage.” You’re kissing across his neck, hands slipping over his dress shirt, feeling the luxurious material as it ripples across his muscles, eliciting a soft whine from his throat.

“Fuck,” he’s throbbing under his slacks now, pressing against your heat and feeling your body arch, hips pressing for more of him. “You need water bottles or something, you're gonna get dehydrated that soaking wet.”

“Oh!” He’s smirking, sitting you up then, tugging you right against his side as he leans over and snatches a bottle up. “Do you just typically ride in a limo?”

“Yeah, long legs you know.” You roll your eyes as he spreads them wide, shoving one on you.

“You are like ninety percent leg.” You take the cool water, sipping it and sighing as it hits, cooling you off just a bit, Satoru nudges you further, before you kick back at him, and he tugs you to him again.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he’s softer now, the teasing gone as he cups your face, the condensation from the water pressing against your palm and dampening his dress shirt just a bit. Your heart races, the emotions mixing with the exhaustion, you haven’t slept in days in anticipation. “I don’t know how I went that long without seeing you to begin with.”

“I always missed you.” Your words break him, the sincerity and sweetness, and he swallows down the guilt once more.

He could have had this.

He could have had you in his arms, in his life, but you quickly shut off his thoughts with another kiss. “Hey, Satoru…”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft, you feel it then, his longing for something that cannot be, even if he doesn’t say it.

“We don’t know what would have happened, if we confessed our feelings then, we’ve grown a lot now, and we’re different in ways. I think everything happens for a reason, okay? So don’t look back on the past, we can’t change it. Focus on this right here.” You kiss him again, pulling back to look up at him, he sighs then.

“You’re all wise and shit huh?” You smile and wiggle your brows. “You’re right, there’s no sense in it. But to think I could have had you in my life…”

“I’m in your life right now, Toru.” The little nickname always breaks him, always melts him for you even more.

“Drink your water,” he presses a kiss on your forehead. “You little drunk.”

“Am not!” But you’re doing as he says, you are so thirsty, soon you’re resting your head on his chest as you two drive through the LA traffic, he’s got an arm wrapped around you as you yawn. “I don’t want to sleep as soon as I see you!”

“Take a nap, we have an hour before we’ll get home.”

Home, the words make your heart race, how he says it so easily, as if you’ll instantly be a part of that for him. The love you’ve always had makes the ease of this so perfect, a new relationship shouldn’t feel like this, nothing could ever really feel like this, like your home is in the arms of the boy you’ve always loved. Your eyes drift shut even as you fight it.

“I got a guitar you know,” you smile against his chest, inhaling his scent as he tugs you closer. “I am trying to remember how to play it.”

“I’m excited, I’ll get serenaded by the Satoru Gojo huh?”

“You’re very special, it's exclusive.” You’re resting more and more, until he hears it - a light little snore, and he knows you’re zonked out from your trip. Affection claws at his throat, mixing with his own exhaustion, while he strokes back your hair gently.

He’s been so busy this week, he worked to clear as much time as he could with you, but even so he has events. He’ll have you right by his side for them all, which he can’t wait to have you there, not being lonely and plastering on a trademark look for every camera and every interviewer. No, he’ll have you, all dolled up in one of the fancy dresses he bought you.

You soon find out he went overboard, as you all eventually take the elevator up to Satoru’s fancy penthouse overlooking the oceanside, it’s stunning and spotless as he gives you a little tour of it and you notice he’s already got half his closet filled with beautiful gowns. There are stacks of fancy shoe brands you cannot even pronounce but you’ve seen in magazines.

“Satoru! I said a couple dresses, holy fuck…” You’re brushing your fingers along one now, black sequined with a slit all the way up, you flush as you think how much leg that will show. “I’m more of a jean or legging girl you know.”

“Oh, I know, it’ll make it even hotter to dress you up,” he’s got his arms wrapped around you, tugging your back against him, lips trailing along your temple. “Like you’re my little doll, huh?”

“Mnh…” You’re lost as he presses hot kisses on the side of your neck, gasping at the sensation, his closet is as big as your room back home, organized by color and brand, a mirror between the shelves that shows your disheveled state. “Your doll?”

“Would you like that? Be my pretty little doll,” your eyes shut for a moment as your body reacts to his nearness, to his touch, igniting heat in your tummy that spreads at his whispered words. “No thoughts in your head, just for me to dress you up and fuck you like you’re a toy?”

“God,” you’re done for, his words bringing filthy pictures as his hand splays over your tummy, long fingers spread across it, the knot tightening with how badly you want him inside you. “You’re insane.”

“You really haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart.” Your chin is turned, and he kisses you deeply, tongue delving inside your mouth again.

“I need a shower, I’m sweaty Toru.”

“Like I care?” You giggle again, but he pulls back, sighing. “I figured you would want to wash up. Go put your things up here and I’ll get it started, okay?”

“Yes, thank you!” He kisses you once more as you start placing the few outfits and things you brought with you, he’s got a whole empty drawer as if he was waiting for you and cleared it out.

You hear the water running, walking out to smell sweet fragrant steam, following it until you get into one of his bathrooms, it’s all polished cream marble and immaculate, some waterfall shower with three heads, two on either side and one overhead. You blink in surprise at it, before studying a now shirtless Satoru, his body is so perfect it makes you ache more.

“This shower is insane,” you shut the door and slip off your own shirt, just wearing a bra, they bounce gently when you do, making Satoru exhale, his cock throbbing as he sees the body he’s been missing so fucking bad. You brush your hair over one shoulder, turning then. “Can you help me?”

He runs over there like an eager teenager, you both laugh at it, at experienced supermodel Satoru Gojo’s hands trembling with anticipation, as he unclasps the bra nervously. He slips it down your shoulders until it falls to the floor, turning you and running his slender fingers over the marks the bra left, as if he could soothe them away for you.

“Don’t wear one here, please?” His pout is enough to do you in.

“Not at all?”

“Not at all, my one thing I’ll ask. Well…” he eases down your jean shorts, then slips your panties down, his breath hot on you as steam fills the room, swirling around you two, your thighs trembling, cunt pulsing around nothing at his avid attention. “Two things.”

“What’s the other thing, hmm?” Your fingers card through his silky white locks carefully, nails gentle on his scalp, while he presses a kiss to your thigh.

“No panties here either.” He eyes you under those snowy lashes, on his knees like he worships you, it’s a heady feeling, the way his huge hands grip your thighs, the way his lips caress your hip.

“I can do that for you, only here though,” he grins against your skin, you feel the lines of his pretty white teeth as he does, before he stands, towering over you and cupping your face. “I want you in there with me, please?”

“You think there’s a world where I wasn’t going to take a shower with you?”

Soon Satoru is leading you in, and the hot water starts pounding against your skin, soothing the soreness of the flight right away. He’s gently running a sudsy washcloth all over your body, inch by inch, relishing and putting attention into every little bit he can see. Your head falls back against the warmed tiles as he starts massaging his hands, feeling the fragrant bubbles and your soft, slick skin.

“This is perfect, it’s well worth any flight.” He smiles at that, lips quirking up at the corner while he continues, now his thumbs brush your nipples, you gasp.

“Sensitive?” He teases, you nod then, looking up at him, the water has made his silvery locks long and slick, you brush them back, biting your lip when he brushes them again. “Asked ya a question, sweetheart.”

“They are sensitive, feels s’good though, mmm!” He’s got them between his thumb and forefingers now, twisting just a bit and making the need unbearable, you gasp out at it.

“Imagine when I get you pregnant,” his words fuck what’s left of your dumb brain then, his eyes flashing with some feral hunger that makes them almost hard to look into. “They’re gonna be so full.”

“Fuck, you’re talking like that?” You’re dragging him down for a kiss, trying to tiptoe and nearly slipping, he grabs you and keeps you steady, his other hand slipping down to cup your ass cheek. “God, don’t even talk like that to me.”

“Why, you got a breed kink?” You’re burying your face against his chest, slick from the body wash, and he chuckles at you then, you feel the vibrations against your body as you whine out. “You do? Don’t be shy, I wanna know all about it.”

“I’ve never… acted on it… mnh…” Satoru turns you then, leaning down as you brace your hands against the wall, pressing closer to him when he slips his fingers between your soppy folds, you’re whining out at it.

“Tell me, what do you think about, hmm?” He’s taunting you, his other hand gripping yours as the water cascades over you both.

“I want babies in me,” your whisper ends him, his cock throbbing and leaking precum as he runs his finger over your clit in little circles. You’re gasping out at the sensations, him pressing up more, it’s twitching against his fingers, cunt leaking out of your hole. “Ah!”

“You want babies in you, what a little freak my sweet girl is, tsk,” he’s taunting you, fingers entwining, his teeth sinking into your neck as he leans over you, the water pounding against his muscled back, heating his skin until it’s a blushing red. “You want my babies inside you?”

“Only yours, only ever yours.” You’re arching for more, his teasing fingers just dipping in your hole, that grips his fingertip like she wants to suck it so greedily inside of her.

“You want me to throw out that fucking birth control?”

“Oh, Toru…”

“You do, huh?” He’s lost in his madness, you two know it’s nonsense for now, but his words end you, picturing it vividly. “I’ll put so much cum in you it’ll never work anyway.”

“Ngh, please do it - ah!” Satoru’s got you spun back so quickly you’re dizzy, the mix of the heat of the shower and his hard body overtaking all your senses. He’s leaned down, kissing your lips, his big hands taking your body over, your waist, your hips, slipping even lower.

“Thought you were a good girl,” he’s taunting you, but you couldn’t care less, when he lifts you like it’s nothing, pressing you against the wall, your thighs against his narrow hips. “You want all of my cum, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, I want it.” He’s moaning, hoarse sounds from his throat, his tip aligning itself with your hole, pressing inside - the most delicious pressure, stretching your tight ring of muscles when he pulls back and thrusts his hips. You choke on your moan, while he just looks at you, hungry and fucking insane, hands sinking into your thighs.

“Want me to fill this perfect cunt till you can’t walk without dripping?” You nod weakly, he’s sinking deeper in your slick walls, which pulse and slip down his veiny length. Your cunt tries to accommodate him, but he’s so thick, that leaky tip hitting just your spot, until you’re shattering already, cumming so hard you can’t think. “Ya that easy, we just started.”

“Shh,” you’re kissing him, aftershocks rocking you, the release so good you’re already fucked out in moments. “Want you.”

“I want you, pregnant with milk pouring from your nipples.” Satoru’s trying to end you, your eyes shooting up to his as he braces you on the wall, one hand gripping a slick breast and squishing. You’re cries echo in the shower, bouncing right off the walls to fill his ears, a sound he never wants to stop fucking hearing. “That’s it, you’re so easy when I bring it up.”

“J-jerk…” He’s smiling against your neck when he buries his face against it, bottoming out as deep as he can go, making you so full you feel him everywhere, in your stomach, hitting every spot you have with his mean tip. “M’gonna cum again,”

“Again, god you’re slutty for me,” he’s lost inside you, talking all the shit he can when he’s just trying to desperately not cum, not bust this early, but the way your cunt is milking him for all it’s worth. He’s pulling back, hands back on your ass, dragging your cunt closer, just making it more sensitive. “You’re trying to get me to cum, aren’t you brat?”

“Me? N-no,” you tighten just a bit, earning his cute glare, when he starts pounding into your cunt, you’re gripping his shoulders, nails pressing in, as he fucks you so hard it hurts - the pain perfect, heady and addictive.

“God I would keep you pregnant,” he’s huffing those words under his breath, your lower back bruising against the wall as he presses you harder, head lowering to rest his forehead on yours as he holds you up. “Use you, like my little doll, just to fill with cum over and over.”

“Ngh!” How many kinks is he trying to hit!? You’re gasping and clinging to his back, fingers slipping as he holds you up, pulling you off the wall. “Toru I’m gonna fall, s-stop!”

“Think I don’t got you, sweetheart?” He’s dragging your cunt down, using you, you’re not even able to move, his hands on your ass guiding you up and down as your head falls to the side, slick hair dripping down across your shoulder. He’s devouring your neck as his thick cock shoves in so deep, your cries making his cock twitch, making him sensitive.

You’re whining out his name, while he holds you like that, and you’re shivering, goosebumps rising as the pleasure builds, until you feel like you’re going to break. “Mnh! Fuck…”

“That’s it, cum again,” he’s pressing you back on the wall, eyes looking down into yours. “Want me to use you don’t you? Till I bust inside, fill you up?”

All you can do is nod in jerky motions, and Satoru’s filthy with it, his strokes mean as they slam your cervix over and over. He’s whispering your name over and over, you’re clinging to him, fingers slipping, thighs threatening to lock up, but he doesn’t let you fall, he’s lost as you are, rhythm faster and faster as your cunt gushes around him, head falling back for his teeth and mouth to mark you.

You’re kissing him as he presses you against the tiles, as the water drips and cascades off his face to yours, and your lips move over each other, until you feel him slow, and thicken. He thickens so much, so deep inside you, stretching you out as his tip is against your cervix, and his hands leave marks against your thighs. You’re crying out in his mouth, gasping as he pumps hot cum inside you.

“Toru!” He moans, kissing you messy, saliva dripping as white hot ropes shoot up inside you.

“That’s it, take all my cum, huh?” You’re nodding desperately, thighs shaking with the effort, as he moans low in your ear, resting his head against the shower wall as he fills you. “God I missed this.”

“M-me too, mmm, me too.” The kisses are messier as he eases out, he gently washes you after, careful as you’re sore just a bit from having him inside you again.

“Beat her up.”

“Toru!”

“Sorry, she’s cute.” He presses a kiss on her and chuckles after the shower is done and he’s drying you off. “Let me dry your hair.”

Satoru works carefully then, bringing you back to thoughts of when he’d curl or straighten your hair before a competition. To when he’d help you do your makeup because you were hopeless at it, and his hand was always so steady and precise. The thoughts fill you with warmth as you swipe some of the steam off the mirror, bringing him into view.

He has a towel loose around his narrow hips, yours is carefully tucked around your breasts, it’s so domestic, it’s so perfect. A comfort you think you could only feel with him, even after the time and distance, he shows you that affection, the sweet way he slathers some fancy oil in your hair, how he massages some other fancy lotion against your skin.

“You use all this?”

“I get a lot of free things when I do commercials or ads, I have a stupid collection. You can take anything you want, though I don’t think I wanna remember you have to leave after a few days.” You hear it, the sadness in his voice, before he clears his throat and tugs you against him, pressing the soft terry cloth against his chest. “Let’s not think of it at all.”

“Let’s not, let’s enjoy.”

Laying in Satoru Gojo’s fancy ass bed, in his huge immaculate room, it feels as cozy as his childhood room did, because he is there. He’s holding you close to him, an arm wrapped around your waist, hand gripping your tit, you giggle at it, tugging it a little lower, for him to bite your shoulder playfully and scooch it back.

“I waited how long to grab these? Better let me.”

“You’re silly, y’know that?” You turn your head and he just grins, squishing it again and making you laugh.

“The first pair of titties I noticed.”

“Oh whatever!”

“Think I’m lying? Don’t you remember the tissues, the lotion, the-”

“Oh god. Not a poster girl or model?”

“Nah fuck that, nicest pair right here.” He squishes your other one now, you exhale and arch against him at the sensations. “They’ll get so big when you’re-”

“Fuck this.” You’re on him before he can blink, and you do not get any rest until the sun rises and filters through the blinds.

*****

“Relax, you look fucking beautiful.” Satoru’s grinning at you the next evening as you two sit in the limo, right in front of the event. He is looking like a million bucks in his dark blue suit, elaborate lace designs embedded in the lapels, matching just a few shades of his blue eyes.

His big hand holds yours, he feels how sweaty it is, how shaky as you tremble just a bit, looking out at the limo then, your heart pounding in your chest. “I know you think I’m beautiful-”

“I will put this off and bend you over my knee,” he tugs you to him, a hand precariously on your thigh, scowl on his handsome features. “I’ll beat that pretty ass so hard if you say one more thing.”

“Satoru, you’re a model. I am not a model.”

“No, because I’d be too jealous to ever let anyone see your pretty fucking body, huh?” You’re a blushing mess, as he does look at you like you’re the prettiest thing in the world.

That’s when it all hits.

Satoru always looked at you like that, maybe not as intense, maybe not as bold as he is now, but he always eyed you with that devotion. The memories all start to cascade together, bits and pieces - a memory of going to your middle school dance together in eighth grade.

‘You’re the prettiest girl here,’ he’d been so cute with his fully buttoned dress shirt and bowtie, grinning with his braces on full display as he twirled you on the floor.

‘And you’re the cutest boy!’ he’d blushed, full pink, his eyes directly on your face, and when a boy asked to dance, the little pout he gave made sure you turned it down.

‘You can dance with other people, it’s okay.’

‘No, it’s our night.’

That memory is as vivid as the others, all falling together and showing the glaring conclusion - Satoru Gojo had always been in love with you. It’s exactly as he said, and you’d been oblivious to it, now just quiet as your eyes fill with tears, he frowns in concern, his brows drawing together, fingers caressing your cheek with the utmost care, eliciting another memory.

“Sweetheart, if you’re not ready, I can put this off.”

“No… it’s not that.” He swipes a tear, glittery with the mascara dripping from your lashes, while you remember again, a night at a party where you’d been far too intoxicated back in high school, when he’d eyed you with that look.

‘Satoru, dance with me!’ you’d been slurring your words a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck, seeing him flustered.

‘No, I hate dancing, you know.’

‘Not with me!’ you’re pouting as you stood outside the blaring loud party at someone’s house, you both didn’t even know, but Satoru always got dragged along with your dumb ideas. ‘Please!’

‘We’re in their yard, silly,’ he pecked a kiss on your head then, looking at you with an unreadable expression, sighing as his fingers hovered over your cheek, but never touched it.

‘Satoru has anyone told you, you’re really hot?’

‘Yeah, you did. You’re really drunk huh?’

‘Hmm, maybe,’ you’d leaned up, eyes fluttering shut, and Satoru would have died to kiss you, if he knew you were sober. ‘Hmph!’

‘You’re going home with me, c’mon.’ you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder as he drove you home, but you remembered it - how he looked at you.

“Sweets, what’s wrong?” He asks then, and you realize you’re in a full throw of tears, remembering his caring, remembering the way he just listened, how he was always there.

Until he wasn’t.

“Satoru, if I appreciated you more, would you have stayed?” He glares now, lips parted, shaking his head at you, you grip his wrist while he cups your face, sniffling more now. “Be honest.”

“You appreciated me, god you were the best person in the world. You really think that’s why?” His voice is hushed, while you look back out at the window, hearing the flash of the cameras, the announcements, echoing in the confines of the limousine, before looking back at him.

“You always loved me.” He exhales then, swallowing, nodding his head imperceptibly. “And I didn’t know.”

“To be fair, I was as oblivious as you, remember?” You nod then, while he brushes back just a bit of your carefully curled hair. “I didn’t leave because you didn’t appreciate me. I left because I didn’t love myself.”

“Oh, Toru…”

“Shh, gonna cry off all that makeup.” He’s gentle as he tries to fix the smudges, smiling at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners a bit. “I wasn’t okay with who I was, I wanted to be… perfect. And now I am by all standards ‘perfect’ but baby, it wasn’t shit without you, okay?”

You’re done then, kissing him furiously, as you pour everything into it, he gets lost right with you, lips pressing over yours over and over, breaths heavy and scattered, his hands sliding over those delicate sequins. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I don’t want you to, fuck… ever.” He’s kissing you softer now, pulling back as he eyes the window then. “But will you really feel home here?”

“I want to keep trying, and see if I can. I just know I have a lot to… take care of if I do that first.”

“Then we’ll figure it out, anything okay? If you fucking hate this event, we’ll figure out something. If you love it, then we’ll go to every one you want. I want you, more than anything.” You kiss him again, he’s tugging you closer, every memory of you two drifting in his mind now too.

“You always loved me, and I always loved you.”

“Always, sweetheart. Since I met you. Who wouldn’t?”

“Who wouldn’t love you?” He sucks a breath in, his hand slipping up the bare skin of your thigh, watching your face flush, your eyes dilate.

“We’re not gonna make it out of the car if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I’ll put a baby in you here.”

“Toru don’t say it, you know what it does to me now!” You’re whining and he smirks now.

“Soaking wet?”

“Hush!”

“You’re so easy f’me,” he’s kissing your lower lip, lapping across it with his tongue as your lips part, your hands tugging at the lapels of his jacket. “I should have fucked you before, could drip cum on the red carpet.”

“You’re ridiculous, stop it,” but you’re wetter now, and he knows it, his teasing smile replacing the emotional one he had earlier.

“Ya really want me to stop, sweets?” You exhale, shaking your head as he slips it higher, finding you over the delicate lace of the panties he bought you, groaning. “You are soaked, you wanna be pregnant so bad.”

“We will never m-make it if you keep touching me.” He swipes his finger closer, as another courtesy rap on the door sounds, you pull away a bit, when he swipes your glistening arousal on his lips, making them even glossier, your tummy tenses, breaths caught in your throat at the sight.

“Should I tell them my new secret to glossy lips?” He kisses you again, spreading your flavor along your mouth, you’re whining out softly when he finally pulls back. “Let’s knock 'em all dead, yeah?”

“Let’s do it.” He’s grinning, so brilliant, and you try to focus on him then, as the cameras hone in on you, lights glittering off the sequins while Satoru keeps a hand at the small of your back.

“It’s so many people,” you murmur, looking everywhere, it’s loud and insane with the sheer amount of people walking, the attention on you makes you anxious. You used to cheer and competitions would also have you in a cold sweat, he’d always hype you up. “Satoru…”

“I’m here baby,” he tugs you against his side, you feel his reassuring arm wrap as he looks at the cameras ahead. “Just look at me.”

You do that, and he eyes you and smiles, when a couple interviewers start shouting his name. “Should you go?”

“We’ll go,” he’s holding your hand as you two walk over, and then more interviewers run up, overwhelming you as you look down at your glittery heels, but Satoru holds your hand even tighter. “One question each.”

“Are you two together?” One asks, and you look up at Satoru, focusing on his cute little smile as he winks at you.

“We are together.”

There’s a clamoring, and people are leaving other interviews to get a shot at a question of the elusive Satoru and his new girlfriend. The attention is just too much, you’re not sure how he handles it all, but the way he commands them with just enough friendliness, but still holds back himself from them is impressive.

That Satoru is all yours.

“How long have you known each other?”

“Hmm,” he taps his chin, eyes narrowing. “Let’s see… over eighteen years ago we met.”

“How has she been a secret?”

“She lives back home. For now.” He’s winking again, you let him command them, answering their questions until he sighs a bit. “Okay, yes she’s my girl, but this is boring and I’m ready for the show. One more question.”

“Is it serious?” One of the girls asked, and Satoru holds your hand to his lips, giving your knuckles a little kiss as he eyes you.

“It’s very serious. I’m afraid I’m permanently off the market.” He says, to the murmurs and gasps of everyone around.

The warmth spreads, as you realize how devoted he is openly, making you fall impossibly deeper, the love spreading an expanse of your lifetime but still growing with every moment. As he looks into your eyes, you see it too, the apprehension, but the love shining so brightly, nervous maybe that he said it, but you’re reassuring him with a smile, a little nod, until he exhales and grins.

“May we ask you a question?” You look at an interviewer then, nodding shyly, Satoru tenses when she opens her mouth.

“How do you feel about his career, with all these models and now he’ll have co stars? Are you ever stressed about how you’ll fit in his life?”

The words hurt, and suddenly you feel every bit of your prior apprehension, Satoru scoffs. “She knows she’s the only girl for me.”

“I can answer, it’s okay,” you smile up at him again, and he nods a bit, as you look back at the interviewer, the lights still bombarding you. “I would never worry, it’s his career, but also I know what we have, and it’s irreplaceable.”

He leans close, murmuring - ‘good girl’ in your ear, you flush under his praise meant just for you as they keep chatting and throwing out questions, but he’s already leading you away. The closer to the red ropes, the more lively, but the less cameras, as you two walk hand in hand.

“My feet are killing me already,” you whisper, only for him to pick you up in his arms. “You don’t have to!”

“Shh, let me carry you,” he’s pressing a kiss on your head as everyone is oohing and ahhing, you snuggle against his neck, sore feet finally feeling better as you relish in his devotion. “You’ll get used to the heels.”

“Really? I want to just wear some tennis shoes next time.”

“I love you but no, not on the red carpet. Fashion faux pas.”

“I see, you take this serious.”

“Hmm,” he’s raising a brow as he eases you down into the theater, slipping across his body, and he kisses you right in front of a room full of stars. “Let’s enjoy the show.”

*****

The next couple days are a whirlwind, so many things he’s packed in, even at lunch people snap photos from outside the windows, but Satoru seems oblivious to it, just happy to be there with you. You go see the stars on Hollywood boulevard, you put your hands against your favorite stars and he takes a photo.

He’s got you and him together as his instagram picture, it has an insane amount of likes and comments, you’re reading them as you lay on the soft carpet of his floor, ankles crossed as he takes out his new guitar. “Satoru, they’re insane - I wanna suck his dick - wow.”

“They all want to, it’s true.” He has a shameless grin, you giggle, sipping the wine he’d poured. “Only you get to though.”

It’s so similar to that night in his room.

The nostalgia hits, but so does one thing, you miss home - and not just home, you miss him being home. You swallow it down, the fact that you’re not sure you fit in out here, because no matter what you want him to follow his dreams, and you want to be by your side. You all still have time to figure this out, even if you have to leave in a couple days.

That ache of missing him happens before you have to go, like your heart and body is already anticipating it. You push it down, looking at another comment. “This guy says I have nice tits, what?”

“He what now?” Satoru snatches your phone up, glaring. “Oh fuck no.”

You’re giggling as he types a mean, nasty ass response to him, then to many others who said anything. “Toru!”

“Don’t ‘Toru’ me, tch, the fuck they think they have a chance? Never.” He has to have the phone physically taken and put up, eyes lit up with anger when you straddle his lap, cupping his face.

“No one can have me, ever.”

“Fuck,” he kisses you then, deep and desperate, the hunger that’s always there ignites, the constant need for him in every fucking way, every position, every rythm, a neverending madness. “Fuck the guitar, wanna put cum in you again.”

“No no, I wanna hear! Please!”

“Don’t you pout at me,” he sighs though. “You’re too cute. Fine, go sit before I fuck you so hard you can’t walk.”

“Oh god, maybe not,” he’s chuckling as you slip off, going to grab your wine and sitting with your legs crossed. “I’m ready!”

“All right, it’s the one I played in school, but I’m rusty.” He holds the guitar now, on his lap, a light tan acoustic that his fingers gently begin to strum the frets, and his gaze locks on you. “I wrote that song for you.”

“You composed that song for me? You never told me.” You’re swallowing now, as you scooch closer, a hand on his thigh over the soft pajama pants littered with little white kittens.

Everything in that moment feels so perfect, you never want to leave.

“I never told you, I never sang the words to you,” he’s blushing like the boy he was back then, nervous you can tell, when you reassure him with a nod and smile. “All right then, here it goes.”

Satoru’s melody fills the room, as he starts playing the familiar rhythm, it’s a little off key in places, but you instantly remember it. Remember studying as he played - Satoru was so smart he never studied. You had to try pretty hard for your grades, and he helped you all the time, answering questions as he played that guitar with those long fingers.

You’re suddenly that girl, but also now a woman, both of them sitting and looking at the boy they love, as you now realize it’s meant for you, when his lips form those words. You almost can hardly contain yourself, the longing to stay and the dread of leaving falling back, to just enjoy this moment, in how much you adore him, how much you love this moment.

The words are for you, they’re only for you, spilling from his lips in a soft little husky pitch, and before you can comprehend your tears have spilled across your cheeks in glittery streaks. As Satoru sings the words he only sang on his own, practicing over and over in front of the mirror, too afraid to ever play them, too afraid to sing them out loud.

They mirror the poem in the year book, the mirror everything he’s never said, as he sings about your smile, as he sings about his heart. You’re a mess to the point his fingers falter, but you shake your head. “No, keep going please.”

Satoru finishes the song and he has just enough time to put it aside when you’ve knocked him to the ground, wrapping your arms around him, he chuckles a bit, stroking your back gently. “Would I have gotten this response then?”

“Yes, I would’ve been your first.” He chuckles again, as you pull back. “I’m such a crybaby.”

“You are… and you are the first that has ever mattered. Okay?” You nod quickly, kissing him again, until he’s hungrily kissing down your body, you’re on your back as he does, your gasps fueling him. “Fucking perfect.”

“Love you, mnh don’t wanna - ah - miss you again,” he exhales, breath tickling your tummy as he leans up, silvery hair falling over his brow. “I don’t want it to ever end.”

“It won’t baby,” he’s kissing lower, spreading your thighs, you’re gasping when his tongue slips up your slit, and he moans. “I never want this taste out of my mouth.”

“Please…” He’s groaning against your hot, eager cunt, tongue swirling and flicking your clit, as two fingers curl in your messy cunt. “Ah! Oh god… mnh!”

He’s devouring your cunt hungrily, losing himself in your wetness pouring, in your taste as he eyes you under those lashes, his long fingers pressing into your hips to drag you closer. He’s working you so good, curling his fingers in your soppy little hole as his mouth latches on your clit, and he sucks the tiny, twitchy nub into his hot and eager mouth.

You’re screaming out, so fucking thankful you can - the quietness of playing in your childhood houses did not do his sexy moans or your cries justice. You’re closer and closer, feeling the coil tighten and then release, until the pleasure shoots through your body, and you’re convulsing around his thick fingers, clear arousal pouring into his mouth which he slurps up, fucking obscene.

“That’s it, make me a mess baby,” he’s dragging you back against his mouth, lapping every drop up as more starts dripping, then leaning up and slamming your thighs to your chest, pressing you into the floor. “Can’t make it to the bed.”

“Then fuck me on the floor, ah!”

Satoru needs no more invitation, he’s hastily tugged those pajamas down, precum dripping on your pretty cunt as he slips his tip between your folds, feeling how fucking perfect you are. He doesn’t give it inch by inch, no he bottoms out in one thrust, making you so full so fast, you’re screaming out, fingers gripping the plush carpet underneath.

“Mnh, it’s so much!”

“Take it f’me, all my cum hmm? Gonna fill you so much…” you’re cumming so quick it’d be embarassing if he didn’t love it, if he wasn’t lifting your thighs and fucking into you deeper, harder, strokes mean and messy, loud with the slapping of his skin against yours. “Perfect, fuck you’re perfect.”

“Toru! Please,” you don’t even know what the fuck you’re begging for, until he finds your clit, hugging your legs with his other arm, and you’re shattering underneath him again. “Ngh, there, yes please! L-love you!”

“I fucking love you, I’ll love you round with me, huh?” You nod eagerly, your cunt greedy as she milks him when he does bust after fucking you harder, faster, until you’re both broken. You’re cumming from his hot white ropes filling you. He’s cursing stuttering as his weight presses on you, heavy and so perfect, smushing your thighs up even higher, until he’s slamming his cum against your cervix.

“Want it, want it all.” He’s moaning, pulling out and watching your little hole twitch and wink at him, as white milky cum pours out.

“Wasting it, tsk,” he fingers it right back inside you, smirking at you with dilated eyes when you’re wriggling under him, cunt so sensitive. “Don’t you want it all?”

“All of it. Mmm, I can take it.” He’s inside you again and again, it’s like the two of you can’t stop, until you’re so sore it’s hard to move, and he’s hugging you against him in the bed.

“Don’t ever go, please.” He’s pouting against your neck, you’re so fucked out it’s hard to think, you look back at him, and he caresses your face.

“I will try to see if I can start to… figure out what to do. But Satoru, I don’t know if I fit in here?”

“You will, god everyone thought you were a star,” you’re smiling shyly, sleepy eyes dozing off, while he presses little kisses on your head. “It’ll be so lonely if you go please…”

“Toru…” You’re kissing him again, turning until you’re facing him, and he tugs you against him closely, sighing shakily.

“I shouldn’t put so much pressure.”

“No, no, I don’t want to be lonely without you either,” you’re kissing him gently, feeling sleep tug at you as the desire to stay awake and be with him every second you can fights it. “We will figure something out. I know it.”

“We will. I’ll lock you in chains to the bed-”

“Wait now.”

He’s smiling abashedly, but your eyes narrow. “You think I really would!?”

“I don’t know, you look devious!” He’s tickling you then, it’s all too perfect, every bit of this night, as the two of you try to be in the moment, but also dread the moment you’ll have to part, wondering just how the fuck you’ll make it work.

taglist #1- @pinkyvomit @saitamaswifey @kachowness @vraiao @artbligh @psychoartiste @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @bsenpai @simp-for-wanderer @rjreins @emonaculate @myahfig4 @casua11ycrying @psycren @blushedcheri @ureuphoriasworld @frozenmallows @kanaojacksonofc @rcveriees @xlilycoco @yukimaniac @sypnasis @tokina @sharkubi @tztuoo @hyori2 @yesdere @gradmacoco @gamerhere @seikamuzu @xinsonyax @vvaoo @angie420 @ria54sworld @blue-musingss @mysticmyth @asimpinamillion @arabellasolstice @ilovebeansyay @notme000 @emochosoluvr @iv-vee @heh123321 @fushikamo @danilovesboba @spookyy-gracee @satorusleftnut @clqxuds @femaholicc

1K notes · View notes

flwrstqr · 6 months ago

Text

✶ : ENHYPEN WHEN YOU MAKE THEM FLUSTER ╰——𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 1OOOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, petnames ｡｡ ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

DANi : my christmas gift for my flueries hehe (> <)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨��𝗚 heeseung pauses mid-bite, chopsticks hovering in the air as he catches you staring at him. you’re perched on the edge of the counter, chin in your hand, a soft smirk playing on your lips. “what?” he mumbles, the tips of his ears already turning pink. “nothing,” you say, but your gaze doesn’t waver, tracing the way his lips curl around his words and the slight furrow of his brows. “you’re just... really cute when you eat.” his eyes widen, and he sets his bowl down a little too quickly, spilling some broth. “cute? who says that?” he huffs, but his voice cracks slightly, betraying him. you lean in, close enough to brush his bangs out of his eyes, and whisper, “i do.” heeseung freezes, unable to meet your eyes, muttering something about how unfair you are. yeah, he’s so down bad, and he knows it.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 jay’s hand stills on the page of the book he’s reading when you lean in, far closer than necessary, to point at something in the text. he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, trying not to focus on how your shoulder brushes his or how he can feel the faint warmth of your breath. “you’re really into this, huh?” you tease softly, and his ears turn crimson, though he clears his throat like it’s nothing. “it’s... interesting,” he replies, his voice steady despite the way his heart’s racing. you tilt your head, your face just inches from his, and he freezes. “jay, are you blushing?” you ask, a playful lilt in your voice. he straightens up immediately, closing the book with a soft thud. “no, i’m just warm,” he lies smoothly, standing up to grab you a drink because, even flustered, he’s ever the gentleman.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 it happens so suddenly—you’re walking side by side, the world around you fading into a serene hum, when your fingers brush against his. before you know it, your fingers, almost shy, find their way to jake’s lacing together. his head snaps toward you, surprise flickering in his eyes before it melts into something softer—something teasing. “what’s this?” he grins, a playful lilt in his voice. “couldn’t resist holding my hand, huh?” you roll your eyes, mumbling something about it just being cold, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles sends your excuse crumbling. “sure, keep telling yourself that,” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath tickling your ear. now it’s you who’s flustered, cheeks burning as he laughs, his own face just a touch pinker. “you’re cute when you’re all shy, you know that?” jake always wins these games, and it’s almost unfair—almost.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 when you tie sunghoon's tie, sunghoon goes weak on his knees. he's standing so close, his tall frame looming over you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. his eyes flicker down to your face, and you catch how his gaze lingers on your lips before quickly darting away. "you're hopeless at this," you tease softly, tugging the fabric snug against his collar. his ears turn red, and he lets out a soft, nervous laugh, his hands fidgeting at his sides. but before you can tease him further, he tilts your chin up, and suddenly, his lips are on yours. when he pulls back, his cheeks are a deep red. "i had to shut you up somehow," he mumbles, avoiding your wide-eyed gaze as he adjusts his tie.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 it happens so subtly, that even you almost miss it. your hand brushes against sunoo’s jawline as you fix his collar. his expression doesn’t falter at first—cool and composed, the way he always is (our #nonchalant king)—but then you let your thumb gently graze his skin. that’s when it happens. his breath hitches, his eyes flickering down before darting back up, and for the briefest moment, his cheeks turn flushed. “what are you doing?” he asks, voice quieter than usual. but you can see it now: the faint pink dusting his cheeks, the way he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting further. you smile, leaning in a little closer. “just fixing your collar,” you murmur.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 it’s the way you catch him off guard, leaning in with that teasing little grin he can never resist. your lips brush his cheek first, before you shift just enough to press a proper kiss to the corner of his mouth. “baby,” you whisper. jungwon stays perfectly still, his smile unfaltering—cool, easy, like nothing you do ever fazes him—but the flush creeping up his neck betrays him. his hand instinctively reaches for your waist. “what’s wrong, wonnie?” you tease, and his grin widens. “you’re impossible,” he replies. and when you laugh, kissing him again just to hear him sigh your name, he’s already leaning in, completely and utterly yours.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 the moment the words "pretty boy" leave your lips, riki freezes for a split second, eyes wide before he scoffs, trying to play it off. "you’re so annoying," he mutters, but his cheeks are turning pink, and he can’t hide it. you grin, leaning closer just to push his buttons further, and he groans dramatically. "stop looking at me like that, it’s weird!" he complains, but then—like clockwork—he pulls you by the waist, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassment. "you’re the worst," he mumbles, voice muffled, but his arms tighten around you. when you tease him again, calling him "my pretty boy," he pulls back just enough to glare at you. "seriously, stop it!" he protests, only to mess up your hair . but his smile gives him away of how madly in love he is with you.

2K notes · View notes

jellysmosh · 29 days ago

Text

Better to Leave it Unsaid

Summary: You were a certified yapper, always chatting with anyone and everyone around the Smoffice. Everyone except for one person. Inspired by the song Talk Too Much by COIN.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Tags: Fluff, mutual pining, extremely light angst if you squint

Word count: 6.1k

Note: This is a huge one! I didn't mean to make this so long, but I just kept going lol… I decided to post the whole thing rather than separate it and make y’all wait for a part 2, hehe. I take a lot of inspiration from music, if you couldn’t tell. Please enjoy~!

☆

You had always been talkative, a chatterbox, and a yapper. Your mother used to tell people that when you were a baby, you learned how to speak in full sentences before you learned how to stand on your own two feet. You couldn’t help it, you just loved to talk. It took you years to learn how to think before you speak.

You enjoyed talking to people, it genuinely made you happy to learn about others and share your thoughts. It was a form of connection, whether it was a late night heart-to-heart with your best friend or joking around with a stranger in line at the supermarket. If you could list ‘conversations’ as an interest on your resume, you absolutely would.

This trait worked to your advantage when you joined Smosh as a cast member.

“You’re so good at talking”, Ian joked with you after your first month, “you always seem to know what to say.”

“Practice makes perfect”, you grinned back as he laughed again.

You had quickly become a fan favourite, especially on Reddit Stories and as a guest on Smosh Mouth, being praised for the chemistry you had with the cast members and how you played off each other in discussions. You struggled a bit more on the games channel, you had very little video games experience and you found it difficult to remember board game rules when you played them for the first time. But the subscribers seemed to love making video compilations of everytime you forgot a rule or had to quietly ask for help mid-game.

Working at Smosh was so much fun, not just because you loved your work, but because there was such a diverse and interesting group of people you had long and frequent talks with. You had gotten to know everyone so well throughout the past few months, both cast and crew.

Well.

Everyone except for Spencer.

When you joined Smosh and met all the people working there, you had taken to Spencer in a different way than the others.

The crush you developed on him was quick and severe. You had no idea what to do with it. You were never good with romantic attraction, the few times you made the first move with a potential partner, it always ended disastrously. When it came to someone you really liked, you clammed up. Every time you were around Spencer, you panicked, and your heart sped up when he spoke to you. All the words that normally flowed out of your mouth got all tangled up in your head and stuck in your throat. Even when you two were doing your jobs and he was directing you on a game video, you responded to his directions with a silent, tight-lipped smile without making eye contact.

You did not handle cute guys well. And Spencer was cute. With his big green eyes, cheeky smile, and quick-witted humour, he was exactly your type to a T. It infuriated you, the person you wanted to have a connection with the most was so distant from you, and it was your own fault. You wanted to be close with him like everyone else, having lunch together, hanging out after work, you wanted it all. He definitely noticed how weird you were about him, because he drew back, hardly ever reaching out to you and only speaking to you when absolutely necessary. You couldn’t blame him.

The invisible wall between you guys that you had accidentally built seemed to get taller by the day, and you wished there was some way to knock it down.

☆

“Cut!”

That was a wrap on the most recent Board AF video and it was finally lunchtime. You and the other cast members hopped up from your seats as the room was filled with post-recording chatters.

“Good job, guys!” Spencer clapped his hands, “Amanda and Chanse, that was amazing teamwork. Shayne, super funny, as per usual.” He was wearing his green Smosh merch cap and a white T-shirt today. God, he looked so good.

You pretended not to notice he praised everyone else in the video besides you.

“And great banter, Y/N”, he added before turning to Alex to debrief.

Nevermind. You almost skipped out of the room from the high you got from him complimenting you.

You could really enjoy your lunch break after that. Sitting down between Angela and Amanda, you dug right in, conversing with the others at the table as you did everyday.

“I was watching the shoot just then, you know?” Angela nudged you, speaking between bites, “what’s up with you and Spence?”

You almost bit down on your tongue in surprise.

“What?” You laughed to cover the worried feeling that rose inside you, “what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean”, she spoke quietly, this was between you two. The rest of the table were not paying attention, holding their own conversation about the schedule for the rest of the week. “You, like, don’t look directly at him and you just silently do what he says. No reply, nothing.”

“I didn’t think I had to reply to every direction given”, you shot back, eyes on your food. You were dreading where this situation was heading.

“Okay, okay, no offence”, Angela lay a hand on your leg, eyebrows raised so high it made you laugh, “I have never seen you skip an opportunity to say something.” When she saw your jaw drop, she quickly added, “I’m saying this as a fellow yapper, okay? It takes one to know one. You seem to talk non-stop to anyone until it’s with Spencer, then you shut right up. Are you mad at him? Did he do something to piss you off?”

You sighed and put your fork down.

“No, Angela”, you both leaned back in your chairs, facing each other, “I’m not mad at him, he did nothing wrong.”

“Then?”

“I-”, you quickly glanced around you, checking nobody was paying attention to you two, “I don’t know. Like, I just can’t talk to him.”

“But why?” Angela had her hands out inquisitively, like this was a great mystery she had been thinking about for a long time. “How are you not able to talk to somebody? You start chattering when you hear someone enter the stall next to you in the bathroom. It’s disturbing. Nothing stops you.”

“I don’t know”, you were a lying liar. You knew damn well why you struggled to speak to him. “I just can’t!”

She eyed you suspiciously. She was squinting at you so hard, you resisted the urge to ask if she needed her glasses. This was one of the rare times you actually wanted a conversation to end as soon as possible.

“Right”, she finally conceded, a strange expression on her face, “totally. Yeah. You just don’t know.”

You nodded, smiling like nothing was bothering you. You could tell she wasn’t satisfied with your response but you were just glad she wasn’t pushing it anymore. She was very empathetic, so she could probably feel you were getting uncomfortable.

“Anyway”, she shook her head, poking you gently as she changed the topic, “what are you scheduled for tomorrow morning?”

☆

“And then I told him that I didn’t know where his wallet was and that I was sorry”, you explained, hands gesturing wildly.

“I mean, yeah”, Tommy responded while nodding, “you literally met him five minutes before, how were you meant to know?”

You were telling him a story about some guy you befriended at a bar a while ago when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You spun around to see Spencer standing there, holding his laptop. You didn’t even hear him approaching while you were talking, how long had he been there?

“Hello”, he waved, you silently waved back and Tommy replied with his own ‘hello’. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but I need to speak to Y/N about an upcoming video. Sorry, Tommy.”

“No problem, don’t worry about it”, Tommy replied before heading back to his desk, “see you guys later.”

You wanted to yell for him to come back so you wouldn’t be alone with Spencer, but you were left with no choice but to quietly follow Spencer to the games set. He was going to quickly go through how to play a new board game you were set to play with a few of your cast mates because your schedules didn’t line up and you couldn’t be there when he taught the others.

“Okay”, he sighed, plopping down on the large grey couch. “Please sit down”, he nodded his head at the space next to him.

You carefully sat a respectable distance away from him, close enough to properly listen to him but far enough to not get you flustered. As he began to teach you the rules and show you the different cards, you tried your hardest to focus. He made it so difficult, he just looked so gorgeous. His curls were sitting just right today, one stray strand dangling down his forehead, and he was wearing that Creed shirt he always looked good in. His glasses slowly slipped down his nose when he leaned down and you bit your tongue as he adjusted them. You were trying to remember what each card did in the game, but your thoughts kept going back to how nice his voice sounded. He didn’t speak too fast and he kept the volume low since it was just you two sitting on the set, it tickled something in your brain.

“Y/N? Y/N!” His voice calling your name drew you out of your own thoughts.

A single ‘huh?’ was your clever response.

He sighed, seemingly a little frustrated.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yes”, you responded defensively, vaguely repeating some of the main points you managed to retain from when he was talking.

“Okay”, he nodded, “you did remember a few things. Sorta.”

He picked up the deck of cards and slid them back into their box as you silently watched his fingers work.

“Any questions?”

You looked up at his face to see him looking back at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Uh… no”, you flatly replied. You could feel your face and neck gradually get warmer the longer he looked at you.

“No? Any comments? Anything at all?”

You shook your head. Hopefully, this interaction would be ending soon before something devastating happened, like him noticing how red your face was or how clammy your hands were. You looked away and your eyes darted around the set. You didn’t like being speechless, it was an uncomfortable feeling for you.

“Y/N”, he gently pressed. You froze in place, eyes glued to the small table in front of you. “Why…”, he trailed off, not finishing his question before he stood up, “uh, nevermind. We’re done here, I guess. See you around.”

And then he was gone.

You felt relief and anxiety mix together at the bottom of your stomach. You wanted to talk to him so bad but you were so in your own head about him, about your feelings for him. In another world, where you could get over your feelings for him, you could be best friends. You could be talking all day long, asking about each other's days, how your families were going, what your weekend plans were.

Instead, right now, you were the only person in the room, left sitting alone on an empty set.

☆

“What is their problem?” Spencer grumbled, partly to himself, partly to Alex and Shayne, interrupting the conversation they were having right next to Spencer’s desk. They both turned to look down at him, borderline sulking in his chair.

“Y/N?” Shayne hit the nail on the head immediately. Spencer didn’t often talk about his strained relationship with you, but the few times he did have been with these two in particular.

“Yeah”, he lifted his glasses to rub his eyes, “I just met with them to explain the new game we’re playing tomorrow.”

“Awkward?” Alex grinned.

“So awkward”, Spencer threw his hands up, “I really don’t get it! They just refuse to say anything to be besides ‘yes’, ‘no’, and ‘huh?’”

They could tell Spencer was getting frustrated, not quite angry, moreso confused and unsure on what to do.

“It’s been months since they started”, Shayne crossed his arms, tone neutral, “have they not had a proper conversation with you even once?”

“Never”, Spencer replied, “what about you guys?”

“All the time”, Shayne replied sheepishly.

“Yeah, all the time”, Alex nodded, almost apologetically. “I talked to them this morning about Fortnite for like half an hour. They asked me to explain it to them.”

“You’re kidding me”, Spencer whined, he just could not wrap his head around why you guys just didn’t click. “I would have killed to explain Fortnite to someone for the first time.”

The other two seemed bemused by his turmoil. Spencer feared they may not be taking this seriously. It was serious. Over the past months, he had watched you grow close with other people at Smosh, chatting and bonding so naturally it was as if you had worked there for years. Whenever he saw you, you were always in the middle of a lengthy conversation with someone; you had gained a reputation around the office as an amazing listener who would be easy to talk to for hours. Spencer thought you two could get along great, he was not the most talkative, but he loved to chat and loved to listen. However, Spencer seemed to be the one person in the company that you refused to talk to.

It didn’t help that he thought you were very attractive. It drove him insane, he felt this inexplicable draw to you and yet you avoided even making eye contact with him. Did you find out about his crush on you? Were you grossed out? Was that why you avoided speaking to him? There was no way though, he hadn’t told a single person about how attracted he was to you.

“Look, man”, Shayne gained his attention again, “if it really bothers you, you have to talk to them. They can’t read your mind, they might not even realise they’re doing it.”

That made Spencer laugh, you definitely knew you were doing it.

“Yeah, what Shayne said”, Alex chimed in, “talking to them is going to be a way better approach than sitting on your ass, ripping out your hair trying to solve it.”

“Maybe”, he groaned, turning back to his computer to continue his work, “I’ll think about it.”

Alex and Shayne shared a knowing look before leaving him alone.

☆

The next time you spoke to Spencer alone, he accosted you in the break room.

You were stirring the tea you had just made when you heard footsteps behind you slowly coming to a stop.

Before you could turn around and greet whoever it was, you heard Spencer’s apprehensive voice, “Alex mentioned you were showing an interest in Fortnite.”

You almost dropped your mug, but you managed to keep a firm grip on it as you turned around to face him. You tried to say something but faltered before closing your mouth and nodding. You already knew this was going to be another failed attempt at a conversation. You might as well have run for it then and there.

“Okay, well”, he put his hands in his pockets as he continued, “we could play together sometime? Or I could arrange for us to play on the channel in the future or something.”

You blinked a few times. He was asking to play Fortnite together. You felt so excited, you wanted to chug your tea down like a beer and give him a huge kiss but you controlled your impulses. You were curious about the game because of Spencer talking about it all the time and showing Angela how to play, so you enquired about the game from Alex a few days ago. You saw a chance to get through the invisible wall, conquer your feelings, and really get to know Spencer. You were determined to get over this stupid crush of yours for the sake of befriending him, you were tired of being the only person that didn’t get to enjoy his company.

“That sounds fun”, you managed to blurt out, both you and Spencer seemed shocked that you were actually speaking to him. “I mean, I’m not very experienced with video games, but it looks like a lot of fun”, your voice was quivering from nerves and you just prayed he didn’t notice, “I think all the cosmetics are really cool too.”

“Yes!” Spencer seemed to almost jump at the opportunity to talk to you, “they released a Sabrina Carpenter skin. You like her, don’t you?”

Your heart was going a mile a minute, were you actually managing to talk to him? And how did he know you were a fan of Sabrina Carpenter?

“Yeah, I love her!” You found yourself actually smiling, even though you were resisting the urge to find the nearest escape route like some kind of prey animal, “I didn’t know she had a collaboration with them. I actually just ordered the Short n’ Sweet Deluxe vinyl record I’ve been wanting for ages, it took me, like, an hour to decide which colour to get.”

“And which colour was that?” He asked.

“The blue one”, you quickly replied, “the white pearl one was pretty but I wanted the brighter colour. I thought it would look cuter on my record player.”

You were so excited that Spencer seemed interested in talking to you, it almost outweighed the incredible amount of nerves you were experiencing in that moment. You were trying your absolute hardest to form normal words and sentences in his presence. Having his whole attention on you as you spoke was so foreign and just as scary as it normally was, but it was also sort of thrilling. You felt like a teenager again, trying something new and rebellious that you figured you might regret later. There was a paradox of wanting to talk to him like this more to aid in your mission to get over your feelings for him, but the more he looked at you and spoke to you, the more you felt yourself falling.

You were making crazy progress on holding a conversation with him, though. You were definitely being more reserved than when you chatted with other people in the office, but this was breaking the record for longest talk you’ve ever had with him. It made your heart beat so fast you were scared you would pass out.

You had moved onto the topic of music and your record collection, the one you had been working on ever since you moved into your own apartment.

“I have about 30 now”, you had a small, proud smile on your face, “it’s growing slowly, I try not to blow all my money on them.”

“No, I get it”, he said back, grinning, “that is so cool, frankly.”

You felt your entire upper body flush with heat when he said that, your face feeling red and tingly. Part of you wanted to squeal at his compliment and the other part wanted to disappear, dig a hole into the floor and hide in it. Yapping came so naturally to you, but it was still proving difficult to speak to him. Your brain was in overdrive, trying so hard to pick the right words to say and string them into coherent sentences, stuff that was as easy as breathing when you spoke to anybody else.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Spencer sounded worried all of a sudden. When you looked at him with a confused expression, he pointed at your mug, “your hands are shaking pretty bad right now, you might want to put that drink down.”

You hadn’t noticed, you were indeed shaking, little ripples running through your tea from the movement.

“I’m okay”, you tried to grin widely, but it felt like a grimace. You tightened your hold on your tea, willing yourself to stop trembling. You realised you had probably reached your limit on talking to Spencer for today. Any more and you may have a heart attack. “Just a bit of the shakes, I have weak arms”, you lied.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes!” Your reply was too hasty and too loud, “yes, of course! I really need to get back to work though.”

He nodded as you cautiously stepped past him and almost jogged towards the exit, careful not to spill your drink.

“Talk to you later, Y/N.”

You paused, looking at him over your shoulder. You could have sworn he looked worried, nervous even. You felt extra light on your feet knowing he wanted to talk to you again.

“Yeah”, you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face, cheeks red and hands damp with sweat, “yeah, talk to you later, Spencer.”

He smiled back in a way that made your chest hurt and you couldn’t figure out if there was actually a halo of glowing light around him or you were hallucinating. You had to turn away and keep walking or you would have burst into flames with how warm your entire body had become. The gentle way he spoke to you replayed in your head over and over and over.

How the hell were you going to get over him?

☆

Spencer couldn’t help smiling to himself as he typed. He was a little distracted from his work today.

“What’s gotten into you?” Alex asked, alarmed at his behaviour. “You’re acting weird and happy and giddy.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, it’s just… did something happen?” Alex abandoned their desk and came over to him. They could be such a gossip sometimes. “Did you finally ask Y/N what the problem was?”

“No”, Spencer stopped doing his work too, turning to look at them, “but we had, like, an actual conversation.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, “wow, really?”

“Yes, dude, we talked about Sabrina Carpenter in Fortnite and their record collection”, he was obviously excited, “and it wasn’t a long talk, but they spoke actual sentences to me.”

“Good for you, buddy”, Alex patted his back, trying not to laugh as Spencer turned back to his monitor with a huge smile on his face, “good for you.”

☆

It had been a week since you had that discussion with Spencer and you were still reeling from it. You both got very busy and you didn’t really find yourself alone with him after that. You were both excited and very scared about the next time you could potentially talk. You had been mentally hyping yourself up before work everyday, just in case. You were determined to push your feelings down as far as possible, so you could have a longer conversation next time.

It was a sunny Friday morning when you breezed through the door, mood high because the barista at the cafe remembered your order and gave you a dollar discount. You greeted every single person you walked past and gave Courtney a huge hug when you saw her.

“You’re in a good mood”, they laughed, “happy Friday, huh?”

“I just feel like today’s gonna be an amazing day”, you hummed, pulling away and grabbing her hand. You swung them around between you wildly as you spoke, “the weather’s gorgeous, my coffee tastes extra good this morning, you look beautiful. It’s been great so far.”

She leaned forward and laughed hard.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re filming with Spence later?”

“What?” You stopped swinging your arm, looking at her with wide eyes, “that’s not why- no, I didn’t even know, no, well, I did know but, that’s not a reason to- like, I don’t even…”

“Okay, breathe”, Courtney was wheezing with laughter now, “I was just teasing, Y/N. You’re okay.”

You fanned your face lightly, why was it so hot in here all of a sudden? Did they know about your feelings for Spencer? You swore you were working on that. Hopefully, the mention of him won’t make you feel like this soon.

“I’ve never seen you stumble over words like that before”, they started swinging your arms again, “what was that about? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him”, you explained, shaking your head, “I like him! I like him a lot!”

Another weakness of yours that came along with being a yapper was your bad habit of over-explaining. You couldn’t shut up if you tried, unfortunately.

“You… like him a lot?” Courtney raised a single eyebrow, “never heard you admit that before. That’s very interesting.”

“No!” You let go of her hand to wave yours in front of her in a panic, “no, not like that!”

“Yeah”, she replied, slowly stepping away from you and heading back in the direction she was originally going, “totally, yeah. You didn’t mean it like that.”

You rushed away to your desk, cheeks flared up and your head down to hide it. You didn’t see Courtney look back at you with a mischievous smirk.

☆

“Y/N is on one today”, Courtney gasped as everyone was trying to catch their breath. You had told an off-hand, low-brow joke that you did not expect to land, but apparently everyone at Smosh had the humour of a 12 year old boy. Your chest swelled with pride, not from making everyone at the table laugh, but for making specifically Spencer laugh so hard, he was covering his face with his hands.

You silently thanked the heavens that you got to film a Moose Master video with Spencer today without going through the emotional and physical torture of sitting directly next to him. In your opinion, he looked super hot today, he was wearing a hoodie and pushed the sleeves up instead of taking it off when the game really heated up. All you wanted was to stop looking at the cameras and just stare at his tattoos to commit them to memory. Making him laugh while he looked so good was like doing crack. Or what you imagined doing crack was like.

As the game continued, the volume in the room only increased, more rules making people screw up and yell at each other. It was getting intense.

“You said her first name!” You pointed at Noah accusingly, interrupting the tirade he was on, “you broke a rule! I got your ass!”

“Y/N”, clearly frustrated, Noah put his hand up in your face, “shut up for once!” He then continued with the argument he was having with Amanda.

The comment was played for laughs, clearly all in the lighthearted spirit of the game. You had to admit the way he worded it hurt a little bit. But at the end of the day, you knew he didn’t mean it, you had all said stuff you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t a big deal, so you got over that twang of pain pretty fast.

Seeming to notice you had become uncharacteristically silent for a moment, Spencer locked eyes with you from across the table. He silently raised his eyebrows and gave you a miniscule nod, you knew this meant ‘are you okay?’ Your cheeks flushed at him paying attention to solely you amongst the chaos and you nodded back in assurance before returning to the game.

His consideration unleashed a thousand butterflies in your stomach, it was clearly not a big deal, but he still wanted to check on you. You almost wanted to be mad at him for being so cute and sweet. He really was not going to let this ‘getting over your crush’ thing easy.

☆

After an hour, filming wrapped and everyone slowly dispersed. You lingered back a little, discussing something random with Courtney. You two walked off the set a little slower than the others, and once you were back in the main section of the office, you bid Courtney adieu as they went off to take care of something else.

“Hey Y/N”, you jumped a little in surprise, you hadn’t realised Spencer was standing by the door, just out of sight. “Can we talk for a second?”

Oh my god, here we go. You had been gearing up for your next one-on-one conversation with Spencer, you wanted this one to go off without a hitch, leaving him thinking you were charismatic and clever. The problem lay in the fact that when you were finally alone with him, and his beautiful eyes were gazing into yours and only yours, your mind went completely blank.

“Yeah”, you replied, exhaling. You didn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You were glad nobody else was around to see you embarrass yourself.

“Did…”, Spencer scratched the back of his neck, “did what Noah said during that video upset you? I mean, I know you nodded like you were okay, but I just wanted to check on you to make sure, because that was a pretty rude thing to say”, his eyes were avoiding yours this time, “even though I know you know he didn’t really mean it. That doesn’t make it okay, though. Okay, I’m rambling right now, I’m gonna stop…”

You stared at him speechlessly. He was being so unbelievably cute right now. The care he was showing for you and your feelings endeared him to you so much it hurt.

“Spencer, you’re making this so hard”, you groaned without thinking. When you realised what you said, you wanted to run again. Flight or fight activated.

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “making what hard?”

Now you’ve gone and done it. You were incredibly embarrassed, searching the floor for some sort of way out of this situation.

“No, Noah didn’t make me uncomfortable”, you said in a monotone voice.

“Y/N, what am I making hard?” He ignored you and took a step forward, you started to panic.

“That’s what she said”, you couldn’t even laugh at your joke. He didn’t laugh either, and that made you feel even worse.

“Y/N”, Spencer slowly reached for you, as if you were a skittish wild animal. You tried your hardest not to flinch when he gently put his hand on your upper arm. “What’s going on? You can tell me.”

You finally looked up at him. There was an entire galaxy in his eyes you wanted to explore. He had gotten so close to you, but you wanted him even closer.

“I know you don’t really like talking to me, but”, he swallowed, “I really want to change that. You just need to tell me what to do.”

“I do, though”, you mumbled, your face felt so hot, you could probably cook an egg on it. “I want to talk to you all the time, it’s just-”, you shut your mouth, not daring to say anything further.

“What am I making hard for you, Y/N?” He was whispering now.

There was a beat of silence. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds, but it felt like it stretched on for hours.

“Getting over you”, you whispered back meekly, hands balling into fists by your sides. “Getting over my big, fat crush on you”, you said a little louder, you were diving into the deep end, laying bare your soul for him.

“What?” Spencer’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, entire body almost recoiling in surprise. “That doesn’t make sense. I thought you didn’t like me. You talk to every single person in the office like they’re your best friend except for me.”

“Y-you make me nervous”, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, “I’ve never been any good at talking to cute guys I like.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red. He seemed almost as flustered as you.

“But!” You were fighting to save the situation, the last thing you wanted was to completely fuck up the work environment for both of you because of your schoolyard crush. “I promise I’m trying my best to get over my feelings for you. And then it’ll be so much easier to chat, and we can yap all day long together! I just need some time to work on it, that’s all.”

“Stop”, he murmured, tone pleading. He had stepped even closer, you could feel the heat coming off his body. Or it was just the heat your own face was generating. You were pretty sure you were visibly sweating. “Stop that.”

“What-”

“I don’t want you to”, he gently took your hand and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, a shiver ran up your spine, “I don’t want you to get over me.” His green eyes bore into yours, your heart thudded against your ribcage as you willed yourself not to break eye contact. “I haven’t been able to get over you, you know”, he spoke to you in a quiet tone you had never heard from him before, “ever since we talked in the break room, I’ve been thinking about you all the time.”

You opened your mouth and closed it a few times, completely in shock and searching for words that were not coming to you. You were so accustomed to knowing what to say in reply to pretty much anything, the constant flow of conversation buzzing at the back of your head came to a screeching halt. There was nothing but a heavy silence in your head as the man you’ve been pining for was metaphorically grabbing your heart out of your chest and claiming it as his.

“Just… thinking about you and how funny and bright you are”, he kept going, you had never heard Spencer word-vomit like this and it made your heart soar, “you talk so loud, but I love it because I can still hear you even though you won’t talk to me”, that made you laugh, your free hand coming up to cover your red face. “Your jokes always get me, and I love how you laugh with your whole body. I’m just always thinking about your smile, and your humour, and how kind you are to everyone, you’ve been driving me crazy.”

You covered his mouth with your trembling hand. You were so flustered, you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle any second. He looked at you with expectant eyes, round and imploring, like he was asking a silent question.

“You’re talking more than me for once”, you inspected every part of his face, you rarely had the opportunity to do that, you had been avoiding being close to him all this time after all. He chuckled behind your hand, the way his eyes crinkled a little in the corners when he smiled made you want to scream. You worried that he might be able to feel your racing pulse. “I never thought you would like me back.”

He slowly pushed your hand away from his mouth, “and I never thought you would like me. You acted like you hated me.”

“Okay”, you started, cutting yourself off with an embarrassed chortle, “I was panicking every time I saw you, I’m sorry!”

You joked with each other like that for the next few minutes, your heartbeat slowing slightly as you calmed down. Your chest tightened with excitement as you realised he had inched even closer, almost touching you. He looked at you with so much affection in his eyes when you laughed at something he said. You felt like you were on cloud nine.

“So”, you looked down at your fingers still interlocked, “what does this mean for us then?”

“Well”, Spencer pretended to think really hard, “if you can actually stand talking to me for more than five minutes,” he ignored you as you smacked his chest in fake offence, “would you like to go on a date with me?”

You hummed, also pretending to think really hard. He grinned at you, eyes fond. You wondered if he had been looking at you like that all this time.

“Yes, I think I’d like that”, you answered softly.

Feeling bold, you leaned in slightly, wondering if you could get away with kissing him on the cheek. He had other plans, tilting his head so his lips were almost grazing yours. He stayed still, waiting on you, always waiting on you. Both of you had your eyes half closed, transfixed on each other’s lips. Your stomach flipped as you took the leap, moving forward and pressing your mouth against his. It was absolute bliss.

Just like that, the invisible wall between you came tumbling down. It was like it was never there in the first place as Spencer’s hand squeezed yours tight.

☆

Note: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think! Also, I am happy for people to send requests, I want to try writing shorter fics, so that would be perfect! If you have sent me an ask, please be patient with me as I work through them, thanks guys. <333

♡ masterlist

#starsfics #spencer agnew #smosh #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew x reader #smosh x reader #spencer smosh #spencer agnew fanfiction

524 notes · View notes

dollyzdaydreamz · 23 days ago

Text

Sam Winchester x Reader

You Win

description: it's a quiet fall evening at the motel, and sam passes the time by playing some games. tired of reading, you ask to play and he takes it upon himself to teach you.

warnings: none. no nsfw, just sams giant ass hands and a lot fluff.

since yall voted basically 50/50 on this poll, i wrote the dean version too hehe ::>_<::

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ -`♡´-₊˚⊹ ⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡ ⋆｡˚⋆˚✿˖°

The hunt had been slow, too slow. No solid leads, no fresh cases, and honestly, it was starting to wear thin on all three of you. For the first time in weeks, you weren't driving across state lines or holed up in libraries or paging through dusty books.

Instead, you were here: a dingy but cozy little motel room. It was fairly quiet except for the faint hum of the heater kicking on every now and then. The sky outside was heavy with clouds, the overcast light bleeding soft grey into the corners of the room. Fall had settled comfortably, that in-between kind of weather where sweaters and warm drinks felt necessary, but the world wasn’t quite ready for winter’s bite.

Dean had gone out to grab food, muttering something about seeing a burger joint down the road before slamming the door shut behind him. That left you and Sam behind, wrapped in a soft kind of peace neither of you got very often.

You lay on Sam’s bed, nose tucked into the book you'd been trying to finish for days. The faint scent of his cologne clung to his blanket beneath you. Warm, subtle, a little woodsy. Across from you, Sam sat at the edge of the bed, controller in hand, playing one of his old games to pass the time. You glanced up from your page.

There was something about watching Sam like this that made your chest ache in the sweetest way. His face, usually creased with worry, constantly buried in lore books, squinting at old newspaper clippings, was finally relaxed. His brow was smooth, his lips slightly parted in concentration, but peaceful.

A sudden sound from the TV made him jolt as his avatar collapsed dramatically on the screen.

He groaned under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle.

"Lossed?" you teased gently, your voice breaking the quiet.

Sam looked over his shoulder, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah," he admitted. "Got careless."

“I wanna try.” You shut your book, smile tugging at your lips, “Might even help you out."

He turned toward you slightly, that playful glint sparked in his eyes immediately, "Oh yeah?"

“Why not?” You shrugged.

"Alright, come here." He said, voice inviting and soft. He scooched back, making room as he patted the empty space between his legs. It was second nature between you two, but still, your heart gave a soft, stupid little flutter.

You placed your book on the nightstand, then shuffled to settle between his legs. His chest pressed lightly against your back and you felt the steady warmth radiating from him. The freakishly long legs that you and Dean teased him for caged yours in comfortably, grounding you.

The controller was handed off to you, but Sam didn’t pull away completely. Instead, his hands hovered close over yours, long fingertips grazing your knuckles.

"Alright," he murmured near your ear, voice dropping into that soft, careful tone he used when explaining things, "Let’s start simple."

"This one controls your movement," he explained, "And this one," Sam continued, his thumb guiding yours to another button, "controls your camera angle."

You nodded slightly, but your mind was half focused on the game, half focused on the way his warm breath tickled the side of your face. Your fingers nearly disappeared beneath his, and you had to suppress the warmth crawling up your cheeks.

You’d always admired his hands. More times than you could count, you’d found yourself idly tracing the lines on his skin when you both sat quietly together. You never brought it up, figuring Sam knew, but thankfully, never said anything.

"You still with me?" he asked with a breath of laughter. “Sorry, I might’ve been rambling.”

"What? No," you managed to say, “It was helpful rambling.”

“Alright then, give it a try,” He chuckled, hands leaving yours to gently take their place on each side of your waist. “I’ll help you out if you need.”

The first few minutes went surprisingly well. You moved your character around, getting the hang of dodging and swinging, though unlocking certain doors and puzzles took more time than you thought it would.

"Here," Sam offered, his hands sliding over yours again.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander from his hands to his face. The soft glow of the TV screen highlighted the few freckles across his nose, the faint curl of hair brushing the back of his neck, the little crease between his brow as he worked through the puzzle for you. For once, he looked his age. Not a hunter, not the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. Just a 22-year-old in a gray crewneck, playing video games on a quiet evening.

He solved the last part of the level with ease and pulled back slightly. "There," he said with a proud grin. "You did well."

You laughed. "You did all the work."

“Nah,” he teased, nudging you lightly with his knee, "Just needed a little boost."

Once you were more comfortable, you tilted your head back with a grin, "Can we play against each other now?"

He raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

“I’m certain," you challenged.

“Okay,” Sam sighed as he pulled back, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You huffed, “Just grab a controller, you dork.”

He stood up, grabbing another controller from his duffel before settling beside you this time. The competitive energy buzzed between you as the game loaded. You could feel his focus kick in, brows furrowing just slightly, jaw tightening with mock seriousness.

It was neck-and-neck for most of the game, but when you realized you were slipping behind, you resorted to desperate measures. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you swatted at his hand mid-game.

"Hey!" Sam laughed, his thumb slipping off the joystick, "That’s cheating!"

"I had a spasm," you shot back, biting back your laughter.

The two of you bantered and yelped like kids, giggles filling the motel room as the both of you resorted to smacking each other's hands off the controllers mid match.

Finally, with one final victorious move, your screen flashed

You Win!

“Yes!” You threw your arms up.

Sam rolled his eyes half heartedly as he watched you jump up and practically dance around in circles.

But then you caught it, that little smirk tugging at his lips.

You paused in place abruptly, eyeing him in suspicion,

"You let me win," you accused, still out of breath from your celebration.

“No I didn’t.” He dismissed, wrapping the wires around the controllers to put away, but you saw the smile threatening to tug at his lips.

“You so did!” You started toward him, before swatting at his shoulder, “I wanted a fair match–”

Sam chuckled, trying to dodge you. Before you could land another hit, he caught your wrists in his hands easily, gently tugging you toward him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, looking up at you with that amused grin you’d smack off anyone else.

“Okay, maybe I did let you win.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But only to boost your confidence for next time,” Sam quickly added. He shook his head with a half hearted scoff as he watched you mimic him under your breath childishly.

He flopped backward onto the bed, tugging you down with him. The two of you laughed softly, breaths syncing as you settled there.

“I want a rematch,” You murmur, poking the mole adorning his face.

Sam yawned, eyes fluttering closed as his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, "After I nap."

You catch his yawn, dropping your head against his chest, letting your eyes close too.

"Promise you’ll actually try to win."

“Deal,” He murmured, the angular slope of his nose nuzzling into the crown of your head.

Outside, the soft drizzle continued to patter against the windows. But inside, wrapped up in Sam’s arms, everything felt wonderfully still.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ -`♡´-₊˚⊹ ⋆˚✿⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚ - ⋆˚✿˖° dont be shy, leave a note to lmk what you think (≧∇≦) ZONT forget to read the dean version for those of yall who said "i cant choose `(*>﹏<*)′ !! " on my poll loll requests always open:)

spn masterlist

#sam winchester imagine #sam winchester headcanon #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester smut #sam winchester #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural headcanon #supernatural #sam winchester x reader

430 notes · View notes

piroulinewafers · 2 months ago

Note

requesting!!

possessive and jealous caleb who cant take the sight of mc in a little bikini. she looks so hood but he can’t let anyone else see her like this so he sucks and plays with her nipples till they’re so sore the only thing she can wear now are caleb’s oversized shirts

(also not sure if you take these requests but could she also be on the smaller chest side, totally okay if you don’t accept body specific requests.)

🫶🫶🫶

𝐚/𝐧: i've been thinking about this request for like a week hehe... admittedly my productivity is waining </3 i usually write pretty generally but i'm fine with body specific requests most of the time! i wrote this generally in line with such.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: nipple play idk. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

caleb wasn’t sure who he was mad at more— the sun, the sea or that damn bikini that he should’ve never let leave the store rack.

she stood by the shoreline, the little blue and white striped two-piece catching the light like it had a grudge against his sanity. the bows on her hips fluttered with the breeze, her shoulders shining with sunscreen that he had just applied, and her top— god help him— was the smallest piece of fabric he’d ever seen called clothing.

and she was tugging at it. adjusting it. wrapping her arms over her chest like she had something to hide.

she spotted him where he sat beneath the umbrella, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying his best not to make it obvious he was glaring holes into the horizon behind her. or maybe through the pack of guys playing volleyball a little too close for comfort and letting their eyes wander.

she trudged back toward him, the sand soft beneath her steps, leaving little prints all the way up to where he sat stiff-backed in the shade. she stood in front of him, pout already in place.

“gege,” she murmured, tugging at the strings at her back and turning halfway. “can you tighten this a little? it feel loose…”

his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked up at her.

loose? loose ?!

she was already wearing nothing as is basically.

but he didn’t say that. instead, he gave a tight grunt, rising to his feet, brushing the sand off his shorts. his hands were warm, large palms brushing over the delicate curve of her back as he reached for the thin strings.

“i still think we should’ve gone later when it isn’t as busy,” he muttered, tugging the bow tighter with more force than necessary— though careful not to harm her.

“i wanted to come,” she said simply, softly. “it’s nice out. i thought it’d be fun.”

his jaw clenched as he knotted the string neatly and gave the bow a final tug on the right side. she shivered a little when his knuckles brushed against the bare skin of her spine.

“there,” he said softly, voice low. “snug.”

she turned back around, adjusting the top with her hands as if she still wasn’t quite satisfied. her fingers toyed with the fabric, and then, of course, came the complaint.

“it’s still kind of gappy…”

he blinked once. “gappy?”

she gestured vaguely at her chest. “i don’t fill it out that well…”

caleb just huffed, shaking his head. “that top’s just too small, that’s what.”

“i-its not even that small, it’s gappy—“

he grunted. “it is. too small. way too small. what were you thinking wearin’ this in public?”

her head dipped. “you said beach day….”

“yeah. i meant towels. sandcastles. maybe a bit t-shirt and one of those dumb sun hats you like.”

she whined softly and covered her face. “you’re being dramatic, gege. it’s a beach, i want to wear a cute bikini.”

“i’m been’ reasonable,” he muttered, already unscrewing the cap to the sunscreen. “now sit still.”

“gege, i already did it— “ she fussed.

“noe,” caleb cut her off, flipping the cap open with one thumb. “not good enough. you missed a few spots.”

“i didn’t— “

“you did,” he said firmly, and that was that.

she huffed again, drawing her knees up a little more after sitting down. he shifted behind her, making her lean forward just a little as he squeezed sunscreen into his palm.

“you act like you’ve never been in the sun before.” she muttered.

“not with you in that little thing,” he simple grumbled in return, rubbing his hands together before spreading gate lotion across her shoulders.

she jumped slightly at the first touch. “it’s cold!”

“you’ll live,” he responded, but even he had to slow down, hands gliding with almost reverent pressure over her bare skin. her back was soft, and warm from the sun. his thumbs brushed over her shoulders blades, slowly working the sunscreen in with practiced care.

“stop squirming,” he added, palms sliding to her lower back. “you want me to miss somethin’ and let you burn up?”

“i said i already did my back,” she grumbled in response, voice muffled as she tried not to melt under his touch. “you’re so overbearing.”

“and yet here you are,” he replied , earning close enough that his breath tickled the shell of her ear. “lettin’ me do it anyways.”

she made a tiny noise but didn’t argue.

his hands roamed slow, methodical, smoothing every inch with ridiculous focus. it should’ve been quick— routine. but his brain was short-circuiting. she was warm and practically half-naked before him, dressed like a little dream and sounding like temptation ever time she sighed under his hands.

he swallowed hard and pulled away with effort. “alright. turn.”

she blinked up at him. “what? no, caleb— my front is fine, i did that part too—“

“did you get under the straps?” he pointed to the white little straps, gently flicking the bow at her shoulders as a part of the design. “or your collarbones? your nose? you always forget your nose.”

she gave him a look, but sighed and turned toward him, arms still loosely crossed over her chest.

caleb raised a brow. “pips.”

she let them drop with a muttered, “you’re impossible.”

caleb tried to keep his face neutral, but it was hard when she sat there in front of him, shy and squirmy and absolutely not helping his ability to function. he warmed a little sunscreen in his hands agin, then started at her shoulders, thumbs brushing over the fragile bones beneath her skin.

“you’re tremblin’,” he lightly teased, voice lower now. “what’re you so nervous for?”

“you’re staring,” she mumbled.

“I have to look,” he said. “you want me to do it right, don’t you?”

she looked away, pouting and he softened a little. then he slide his fingers up, gently smoothing lotion down her collarbone, slow and careful. when he reached the top edge of her bikini, he hesitated for a second, then kept going, thumbs brushing just beneath the fabric’s edge, where the sun would hit.

she squeaked.

“hold still,” he murmured, but his voice was rougher now, betraying the way he was very much not holding still inside.

“i can do it myself,” she offered weakly.

“nope,” he answered, again, always the same. “i’ve got you.”

he finished with her chest, fingers just barely brushing down the centre of her sternum before shifting his touch to her cheeks. she blinked when he dotted a bit on her nose, then spread it gently over her scrunched face.

his hands continued their descent however, fingers skimming the sides of her ribcage before coming to rest on the delicate curve of her chest. he could feel her heart point beneath his palms as he began to smooth the sunscreen again over her skin, his touch lingering and lingering until it bordered on a caress.

her chest was small, barely a handful at best and even that was a reach. but they were subtle in shape but soft with a slope that disappeared gently into the flat of her sternum. there wasn’t much there, not by anyone’s standards, but it was hers. modest and understated, like the rest of her. maybe that was why is drove her insane.

caleb traced the edge of the fabric, dipping just slightly beneath to tease the soft flesh underneath. she gasped softly, her back arching slightly as a holt of sensation shot through her.

“caleb,” she whimpered, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had noticed his brazen touch. “not here, someone might see…”

“i don’t care, let them see. you’re drivin’ me mad.” caleb growled, his voice low and rough with desire. his hands covered her small mounds completely, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh until her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bikini top, which admittedly wasn’t all that much of a challenge. he could feel them hardening beneath his touch, the pebbled peaks pressing into his palms as he rolled and plucked at them through the material.

“gege, please…” she begged, but her protest was cut off by a sharp gasp as caleb ducked his head, flipping the top downwards and caught one stiff nipple between his teeth.

he sucked, hard, drawing the sensitive bud into the wet heat of his mouth as his hand continued to plunder and grope her other tender breast. she writhed beneath his touch, nails digging into his thigh as she fought the urge to cry out, soft, nervous pantings of his name leaving her.

he seemed determined to mark her, to leave his claim on her body for all to see. he laved her nipple with his tongue, sucking hard enough to leave blooming red hickeys in the shape of his mouth. his fingers pinched and tugged at the tender buds, rolling them between the pads of his fingers until she could only whimper and moan helplessly.

by the time caleb finally released her, her breasts were red and sore, puffy, the skin tender to the touch. her nipples throbbed, the flesh puffy and sensitive from caleb’s relentless assault. she could barelyy stand to have her bikini top brush against them, let alone the rough fabric of a towel. caleb seemed to take a perverse pleasure in her discomfort, smirking as he watched her squirm.

caleb could see the way her small chest heaved with each shuddering breath, the way her nipples strained against the fabric of her bikini top. he knew he had her right where he wanted her— at his mercy, craving his touch even though she wished to push him away.

“look at you, so sensitive” he taunted, fingers plucking at her abused nipples. they were puffy and tender to the touch. despite her lack of endearment, he couldn’t resist the temptation to keep toying with them, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingertips till she was whimpering pitifully.

caleb’s eyes gleamed with a possessive light as he took in the sight of her abused flesh, small breasts mottled red, the skin incredibly sensitive and sore to the touch. he could practically see the outline of his fingers imprinted on the tender swell, the remnant of his hungry kisses.

“i don’t think you’ll be able to wear that flimsy bikini top for the rest of the day.” he reached out and trailed a finger along the edge of the fabric, watching as she shuddered and bit her lip to keep from whimpering. “in fact, i don’t think you should wear the top at all.”

her eyes widened at his implication, huffing as she shook her head vehemently. “caleb, i can’t— “ she stammered glancing around the crowded beach nervously.

caleb’s response was swift and decisive. he grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, revealing his muscular torso.

her breath caught in her throat at the sight, her eyes roaming over the hard planes of his chest. caleb had always been fit, but the years in the daa and with the carapace fleet had honed his body into one sculpted by the gods.

“no one will see,” he promised, “not if you wear my shirt. i won’t let anyone see you like this, with my marks all over your skin. i know you get embarrassed easily.” he smiled, tapping her nose as he tilted his head. “hm, is that it? are you embarrassed of your gege?”

he moved to help her put on his shirt, guiding her arms through the sleeves, his fingers brushing against her skin and sending little tingles of electricity in their wake. she shivered slightly at his touch, still feeling the lingering ache from his earlier ministrations.

“here, let me help you,” he murmured, voice low and gentle as he eased the shirt down her torso, the fabric swallowing up her figure under she looked like the shirt was dwarfing her entirely. the shirt hung loosely on her, the neckline slipping off her shoulder and revealing the creamy expanse of skin there. caleb couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight.

“there,” he let out, smoothing the hem down with both hands, a satisfied sound leaving his throat. “much better.”

she peeked up at him beneath her lashes, a soft little pout forming on her lips. “you’re a jerk.”

“damn right i am,” he said, brushing a hand along the curve of her jaw before tilting her chin up. “you walk around looking like that, and you expect me to share? not happening.”

his voice dipped low, right against her ear. “you’re mine.”

and with one arm sliding firmly around her waist, he kept her tucked beneath his side sitting on the beach towel— exactly where he wanted her.

out of sight, out of reach, and all his.

#caleb x reader #love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x mc #xia yizhou #caleb x you #caleb x fem reader #🍪 reqs #caleb x y/n #caleb smut #calebmc #caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads smut #caleb x reader smut

815 notes · View notes

jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 months ago

Text

fine line ── l. hs (teaser!)

update: this fic's been posted! click here to read <3

↳ summary ── heesung's got two problems: (1) he can't sleep, and (2) he's addicted to the 1AM combo of instant ramyeon and coffee milk from his favorite convenience store around the corner. the only thing more consistent than his insomnia? his nightly visits for his beloved snacks (and maybe to glare at the new night shift employee, too). & pstt, spoiler alert: you're the said new night shift employee. and you don't know what's worse: his weird food choices or his apparent superiority complex. either way, if you have to watch him inhale another bowl like it's his last meal ever, you might lose it. but hey, you know what they say—there’s a fine line between love and hate...

↳ pairing ── heeseung x f!reader

↳ genre ── idol!heeseung, e2l!au, strangers to lovers!au || crack, fluff, teensy bit of angst because a certain someone doesn't know how to communicate their feelings...

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── haii everyone it's been a long time coming...i've been having a MAJOR writer's block and also just kinda taking a break because work has been more tiring on my body so i've just been exhausted recently so i apologize for the lack of content,,,but WE'RE BACK! if anyone's ever watched backstreet rookie (it's my comfort show i love kim yoo-jung), i'm kinda going for those romcom vibes here hehe. this sneak peek isn't as revealing as my others,,,it's quite short but this one is gonna be a lil more rom-com mixed with eventual angst because what is heeseung if not a yearner?

send me an ask/comment if you'd like to be tagged !!! <3 (current tag list at end of post :D )

snippet under the cut!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

“So…do you actually enjoy these together, or are you just trying to destroy your stomach lining?”

He freezes. Great, you’re talking. So much for a perfect night.

He adjusts his cap to peer at you and the same unimpressed, judgemental look sitting on your face as you lean against the counter behind you. “What’s wrong with my choices?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “What right with them? This combo screams, ‘I have unresolved issues I’m trying to boil away with spice and sugar.’”

Okay, ouch.

Heeseung narrows his eyes, trying to ignore the weird pinch in his chest at how quickly you read him, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“I like them. That’s all that matters,” his voice drips with a certain sharpness, hoping the edge in his tone is enough to make you back off.

You, however, seem entirely unfazed.

“Just trying to help—” you shrug as you scan his items, “looking out for your poor taste buds.”

For a moment, Heeseung considers firing back, but then his gaze catches yours for a millisecond too long as you take his cash and, immediately, he’s wondering—for the hundredth time—if you know.

Do you recognize him?

The thought has been gnawing at him since the first time he stepped into this store and saw you sitting there five days ago. Sure, he’s got his identity pretty much concealed under his borderline clinically insane hat-mask-hoodie combo, but still—most people at least give him a double take, a lingering glance. Something.

But you? Nothing. No flash of recognition. No curiosity. Nothing to indicate you know you’re talking to Lee Heeseung—part idol, part insomniac, 100% ramen enthusiast.

And for some reason, that both annoys and intrigues him.

“Thanks for your concern,” Heeseung mumbles dryly, quickly grabbing the ramen cup and cold drink from your hands.

“No problem,” you chirp just as sarcastically, an annoying smile on your face. “Enjoy your…uh, gourmet meal.”

Heeseung throws you one last glare before shaking his head and stalking off to the self-serve station. He puts the cup down on the counter with a little more force than necessary and pours boiling water over the noodles, glaring into the steam as your voice rings in his head.

What’s wrong with ramen and coffee milk? He scowls. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I definitely don’t have unresolved issues.

But as he steals a glance back at the check-out counter and catches you sorting bills like nothing happened, a weird unease settles in his chest.

He looks down at this ramen, then at the coffee milk.

For the first time ever, he feels…self-conscious.

And now you’re in his head.

Great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

this made me crave ramen.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged :)

<3, addie

current tag list: [bolded couldn't be tagged, sorry :( ]

@xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaaah @heejamas @jiyeons-closet @sagegreenhairclip @betda @ineedsomezzz @motherscrustytoenailclippings @bussolares @soobnuuy @deluluscenarios @chrrific @vvenusoncasual @rairaiblog @mwahvvis @lveegsoi @desssss-0 @hoonkishoe @sunhyeswife @ilovbeshotaro @dearestdreamies @starry-eyed-bimbo @planetmarlowe @lovialy @ambi01 @elairah @therealmrsbahng @lov4hoon @hollxe1 @lovenha7 @ilovhoonie @coqhee @i03jae @letwiiparkjay @manuosorioh @mintysunoo @amiraazzz @renaishun @enhadd @ikeulove @starniras @heartheejake @zaycie

708 notes · View notes

gotaksboyfie · 1 month ago

Note

Hi I!! I just wanted to say how much I absolutely adore your writing— I may or may not have binged all your stories in one night because I got completely lost in your writing hehe. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to make a little request! ❤️

could you please do a sieun x reader where we the reader leaves cute little notes in his textbooks after studying together? :3 I feel like it’d be cute, maybe something like little words of encouragement or small explanations to make some difficult concepts easier !! 🫶🫶

study buddy

gif creds: @seolinguk

pairing yeon sieun x gender neutral reader

summary you and sieun study together, and have a silent way of communicating with each other

word count ~600

warnings/tags fluff

being rank 2 in the school wasn't all that hard, not with a study partner like yeon sieun.

sieun didn't talk much, was emotionless most of the time, and literally only ate and drank when absolutely necessary. he was a living studying machine.

his methods were more to make studying more efficent—sieun's words, not yours—but you think he's just burning himself into the ground. it can't be healthy, min-maxxing studying like this.. he's already naturally smart, so what the hell is he doing all this for?

he’s focused. intense, even. he rarely speaks unless it’s to ask a question (extreme rare) or point something out. but you can feel his eyes drifting over sometimes, watching the way you take notes with colorful pens, how you underline things with little stars and write silly ramblings in the margins.

still, it was nice to study with him. his neat notes organized everything into sections that made it easier to grasp concepts. not to mention he would never let you slack off—always pushing you to stay on top of it with no break.

you stared blankly at your calculus homework while sieun was already working on his chemistry II work. differential equations made no sense, how did sieun already finish the homework?

"sieun-ah, can i see the homework? and the notes for differential equations?" you sighed, putting your pencil down. the numbers weren't adding up, so might as well refresh on the concept.

you flip through his notebook, and even his handwriting is completely straight. it's looks like he printed it out, but small ink smudges prove otherwise.

tearing off a small pink sticky note, you decide to leave him some encouragement. hopefully he'd enjoy it, and not just toss it out the next day.

fighting!ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ you got this sieunnie ☆

he doesn’t mention it the next day. doesn’t spare a second glance at you. but the note is still there, standing out against the monochrome background.

so you keep going. it turns into a small habit. you start leaving similar messages of encouragement, explanations, and even dumb jokes.

he doesn't react or say anything, but you swear you can see the smallest quirk of his lips as he reads over your latest one.

what's a math's teachers favorite dessert? π (￢‿￢ )

one day, you ask for his notes again to double check something. as you open it, you see all your notes neatly taped side by side on one page.

remember.. even geniuses have to take breaks sometimes! ╮(︶︿︶)╭ go drink some water!

you forgot to plug this rule in, you doofus :P

yeon sieun you want to buy me tteokbokki sooo bad right now ꩜꩜

[bad sketch of him studying] <3

(・_・)! i did not know you could solve it like that..

you laugh to yourself. it was silly, just a few lines scribbled in messy ink and hidden between practice problems. but he saved them. all of them. and maybe he didn’t know how to say things aloud, but the way he kept your words close made your heart flutter.

sieun's ears were dusted pink as you handed it back to him, and his face looked slightly embarrassed.

you opened your own notebook to see a ripped piece of paper with writing on it. there's no way, right?

Thank you.

you glance up and his head ducks down quicky, eyes fixed on anything but you. (so much for being subtle sieun..)

you read over the note again. it was just two words, but they felt like thousands—especially since they were coming from sieun.

maybe studying wasn't so bad with him around.

fin

a/n so short im sorry😭

#weak hero #weak hero x reader #weak hero class 2 x reader #weak hero class 2 #weak hero class #weak hero class x reader #yeon sieun #yeon sieun x reader #sieun #sieun x reader

289 notes · View notes

selineram3421 · 1 year ago

Text

*writing down taglist* Dodadoo, that's a lot.

Hissy Kitty

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warning!⚠

⚠ cussing, bold italics = sound affects, italics = thoughts, catnip, cat demon reader doing cat things, hehe ⚠

Husk stared with a scowl behind the bar at the red deer demon standing a little too close to you.

Its been a week and that piece of shit would not stop touching you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, grabbing your hand, and even patting you on the head. The last part he's seen the asshole do more often after noticing you purr at the action.

"You've done a wonderful job! I know Niffty appreciates the extra help.", the Radio Demon grinned.

"Are we going to do anything about the ripped up wallpaper?", you asked, looking at one of the lobby walls with peeling wallpaper.

"Don't worry about those. I'll take care of them soon.", the red demon waved it off and pat your head.

Purrrrprrrrrr

"Hands off you slimy fuck!", he threw a bottle at the deer.

Alastor easily dodged and made a tsk noise of disappointment.

"Honestly Husker, you must stop throwing bottles."

You just crossed your arms and sighed. "I'll take my break now."

Husk brought out a cup and a bottle onto the counter, opening it up and waiting for you to notice what drink it was. Not a second later you gravitated towards the bar with dilated pupils.

"Is that..", you mumbled, staring straight at the bottle.

"That's right."

The cat demon flipped off the deer, who was already walking up to the both of you.

"And what is this beverage?", he asked, tapping his fingers on the bar counter.

"Its my favorite.", you whispered, still staring at the bottle. "Husk, hurry up and pour the damn drink."

Your brother chuckled and poured the liquid into the cup, watching in amusement as you snatched it once he lifted the bottle back up.

"Enjoy you gremlin.", he said while putting away the bottle.

The cup was empty a second later.

Alastor was curious.

What is that? Why did the drink have their full attention like that? What a funny reaction.

"Can I have another?", you asked.

"No.", Husk said without a beat, cleaning the cup you used.

"Awwwwwwww!", you whined and rested your head on the counter. "Pleeeeeeeeaaase?"

"No."

Alastor felt his eye twitch at your pouting face.

"I don't see a problem with having another drink.", the deer commented.

You perked up immediately and looked over to the red dressed demon, ears pointing towards him and Husk's ears going back.

"I'm saying no for a reason.", Husk warned.

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes and had his shadow retrieve the bottle.

"I'll take care of whatever problems they cause.", he laughed and swiped the cup from the cat, pouring another drink. "Sound fair?"

"I'm gonna need that in writing."

In writing? He thought placing the filled cup on the counter. Why would that be necessary?

"Surely nothing bad could happen.", he laughed the bartender's concern off and looked towards the cup, only to find it empty.

Alastor looked towards where you were standing and also found that spot empty.

"Better start running deer boy.", Husk said taking the cup. "They have a knack for causing all kind of hell."

Before the Radio Demon could ask what the cat meant, there was a shout from the kitchen.

"WHO ATE ALL OF MA POTATO SALAD!?"

Alastor quickly wrote up a small deal, promising to take care of any problem you might cause while under the influence of the strange beverage.

There's nothing too serious. He thought as he went walking around the hotel to find you. Just minor little things like eating Angel's potato salad and scratching up some couches.

He walked into a common room.

Nothing too bad.

CRASH

Both of you made eye contact after you pushed a cup off of the table you were perched on.

"Dear, I'd advise you not to make anymore mess. I'll have to clean it up later."

Ignoring him, you slowly pushed another glass.

"No.", he said in a warning tone.

You stopped and stared at him for a moment before continuing.

"Oh for the love of-", he sighed as the other glass broke. "Fine. Let's do something about your current state.", he walked over to you.

It didn't even take a second for you to shift into a full on cat and dart out of the room.

Now I see what Husker meant.

"This is going to take a while."

Husk watched with a smug grin and took a sip from his bottle.

"No! Get down from there!", the Radio Demon ran over to the middle of the lobby.

You were on the chandelier.

"Oh yeah, they like tall places.", Husk pointed out.

"What in the devil was in that drink?", Alastor said, trying to use his tendrils to get you down.

All you did was swat and paw at the dark things. Moving out of the way and scratching.

"It's catnip tea."

There was a record scratch.

Alastor felt his eye twitch at how obvious it was.

"Figures."

The cat demon felt a little better that he got you to be a problem for the deer. Maybe after this the smiling fuck would leave you alone. Then he'd finally get some peace.

"Husk? What the fuck is going on?", Vaggie walked over, gesturing to what was happening in the lobby.

"Nothing much, just my sibling giving the deer a hard time.", he responded.

There was a crash.

The chandelier having fallen and you running off again.

"Damn!", the red demon snapped his fingers, bringing up some creatures to clean up the mess before going after you.

"Can I watch?"

"Be my guest."

The two watched as the deer demon chased you around the hotel. Trying and failing at getting a good hold on you. After a few hours, Husk and Vaggie left, having been satisfied with all the random shit you did to keep the smiling demon occupied.

Alastor, having run around the hotel all day was tired and had his shadows chase you instead.

Walking over to the couch with the least amount of scratches, he sat down with a tired sigh and leaned back into the cushions.

"Never again.", he told himself.

There were growls and hissing coming from the other side of the lobby, no doubt you scratching the shadows that tried to grab you.

"Do be gentle, there can't be any fur out of place.", Alastor told the shadows as he rubbed the side of his head.

I'll have to go over our original deal later. He thought about the first contract he had Husker sign.

It got quiet for a moment and he saw that you had torn apart his shadows.

"How did you do that?", he asked as you trotted over and jumped up on the couch.

Even now you were still a little cat, fully embracing your cat side.

"You are a menace, you know that?", he said to you, watching as you 'made biscuits' on one of the pillows.

I didn't know you could cause such chaos. Though you did end up in Hell so that should have said something. He thought and leaned his head back, closing his eyes from being tired and up all day.

Then he felt a weight on his lap.

Snapping his eyes open and looking down, he found you resting like a loaf of bread.

"All I had to do was sit down..", he said annoyed before just giving up. "Alright, alright. You have the honor of besting the Radio Demon."

You were comfortable, eyes closed and adjusting just a bit before staying put.

Such a calm thing when they aren't running about. He thought and started to pet your head, which had you purring immediately.

"You know, I never liked dogs. And with you I can see myself being a cat person."

His hand was yanked back by the wrist.

"You better get your fucking hands off of them!", Husk yelled. "They aren't your fucking pet. This is your last warning."

You had run off and hid from the barking cat.

"They had just settled down.", Alastor said and turned to look at your brother, pissed. "￦h¥ wθμ|d y¤U rμ¡n +h@t?"

"Oh calm your ass down.", Husk took out a bell and dropped it, letting it roll on the floor.

You pounced on it and started messing with the ringing ball.

"You think I don't know how they act? I spent years taking care of them before officially becoming an overlord."

"This would have been useful information earlier.", the deer snatched his hand back.

The cat demon rolled his eyes and went to pick you up along with the ball before turning back to look at his boss.

"I just wanted to see you annoyed.", Husk smiled, walking over to the stairs to take you to your room.

"And stop touching them. Read our fucking contract you dumbass. You're not supposed to lay a hand on anyone I genuinely care about."

Alastor stayed for a moment longer before shadow traveling to his hotel room, going over to his desk and rummaging through it for the contract.

"Where is the blasted old thing.", he mumbled, going through his papers before remembering he could snap it into his hands. "Looks like I really am tired."

He did just that and looked over the contract, skimming through it until he reached the part about protection.

"No touching, holding, dancing or any unnecessary physical contact with any demon I, The Gambling Demon, deem important enough to care about. This includes any blood relatives still alive in Hell."

The Radio Demon laughed.

What a clever cat.

"Let's see where I can find a loophole.", he grabbed a pen to take notes.

Let the game begin.

If you asked to be added but don't find your name in the taglist, please let me know through messages. I'll try to tag you again, and if it still doesn't work then I'll send you updates through messages.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @scary-noodlesblog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

2K notes · View notes

horny-marbles · 1 month ago

Note

Pssst hey.

https://www.tumblr.com/000000-000000-000000/781799507611516928/guys-genuine-question-am-i-gonna-get-crucified?source=share

Get in the kitchen and cook PRETTY PLEASE. PLEASE IM ON MY KNEES. I NEED HIM PLEASE

🥺🥺🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

BOOM SHAKALAKAAAAAAA YES GAAAAWDDDD I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE LMFAO anon we're like this 🤞🏻🤞🏻 also this may or may not be tailored for @erenasia hehe

Marlboro Silver (Aged!Brian Thomas/Hoodie x F!Reader)

CW: age difference (you're way over legal age of consent lol don't play with me), smoking kink, sweaty car sex, a liiittle degradation, oral (m receiving)

summary: your dad makes a new best bud while you're away for college and oh no!! he's hot!!

wordcount 6.1k

The screen door creaks like it always has, frame sticky with humidity and a decade too old. The smell hits you first—cut grass, sweat baked into wood, citronella candles, beer. Alabama summer: swampy, slow, smothering.

Your duffel bag hits the floorboards with a soft thud. You toe off your shoes and stretch, your shirt lifting slightly from your waistband, sticking damply to your spine.

You’re back from college for the summer, trading late-night library runs and overpriced coffee for your dad’s small-town rituals. It’s quiet here. Too quiet. You’ve only been gone a year, but the house already feels smaller. Slower. Like time dried out and cracked along the edges.

“Hey, sweetheart!” your dad calls from the living room, voice muffled over the rumble of TV sports and the pop of a beer tab. “We’re watchin’ the game. C’mere and say hey.”

We?

You drag your hand through your hair and step into the living room with a smile that’s more polite than genuine—and then you see him.

He’s sitting on the far end of the couch like he’s always belonged there, one leg stretched out, the other bent, thick forearm draped over his knee. Big, rough hands. Broad shoulders. Faded tee clinging a little too nicely to a chest that wasn’t built in a gym but came from years of lifting real things—wood, engines, furniture, probably your dad once or twice just for the hell of it.

Brown shaggy hair, barely hiding the signs of time. Strong jaw with stubble, peppered with some sneaky shiny grays. That grin—sharp, easy, lazy, tooth gap right in the middle like the universe left a little crack in him just so you’d have a place to fall through.

“You must be the college girl,” he says, and god, that voice—low, warm, a Southern lilt curling around the vowels like syrup. “Heard a whole lot about you.”

You don’t realize you’re staring until your dad chuckles. “This here’s Brian. Met him out fishin’—man knows his way around a bass boat and a six-pack.”

“Pleasure,” you manage, stepping forward to shake his hand. His grip is firm, slow to let go.

He looks you over, but not like a creep—no, it’s measured, casual, like he’s taking stock. You can tell he’s done it before. You can also tell he knows exactly what he's doing when he smiles at you like that. Friendly, but just the wrong side of innocent.

You sit down in the armchair, knees together, posture neat. Not because your dad would notice anything—but because he might.

Brian leans back, drinks his beer, and keeps his eyes on the game. But you feel it—that pull, the weight of his attention even when it's not on you. The game plays on. Your dad yells at the screen. Brian laughs. And you cross your legs a little slower than necessary. Just in case he’s watching.

You'd forgotten how fast the house gets small in the summer. How the heat clings to the drywall and your clothes, how time sticks between your shoulder blades. You wake late, wander barefoot, drink from cold glasses that fog up the moment they leave the fridge. You scroll too much. You sleep too little. You try to pretend it’s just summer being summer.

But it's not. Because now Brian is always fucking here now.

You don't even bother to ask why. You don’t need to. It’s just one of those things that happens when middle-aged men form inexplicable friendships: they latch on like blood brothers and suddenly they’re inseparable. Watching games. Fixing things. Drinking in comfortable silence like they’ve known each other for decades instead of months. Your dad talks like Brian’s some lost cousin of yours now. “He’s comin’ by later,” “Brian brought over some tools,” “Brian helped me tune up the truck.”

And every time he’s here, you’re a mess.

At first, it’s harmless. He's just around. Helps your dad set up the new grill, shows him something on the TV, brings over a cooler full of beer like he lives down the street. The two of them laugh about some ex-girlfriend they never liked. Apparently he’s been through a divorce. Or two.

The first time you walk through the kitchen in shorts, Brian doesn't say a word. But you feel it—that flick of his eyes, the shift in his posture, the slow stretch of that killer smile when your dad says something stupid and he half-laughs behind his beer. That little tooth gap flashing at you like an invitation.

You don't even like older guys. You swear you don't.

But he’s solid. He’s got arms like scaffolding and a voice like molasses and something low and dangerous simmering under all that Southern charm. You start lingering a little more—maybe just for a second or two longer than you need to. Just enough to catch his eye. Just enough to hope he looks.

It’s the way he fucking sits, thighs spread, arms resting over his knees, fingers tapping absently against cold glass. It’s the way he says your name when your dad tells you to grab something from the kitchen. The way he smiles at you—slow, a little crooked, like it’s a secret just between you.

You feel it deep. Not even in your stomach. No, directly in your cunt. Hot and ridiculous. Humiliating. Your thighs press together like it’s involuntary—because sometimes it is.

One afternoon, you're passing through the hallway while they talk about car maintenance—or football or fishing or whatever man noise they've settled on that day—and you hear your dad laugh through the open door.

“You don’t ever get tired of goin’ home to an empty house, man?”

Brian huffs a low, amused breath. “Nah... Ain't nothin' better than getting home to the sound of silence.”

It’s said so casually—barely a pause between sentences. But you feel it. A twitch, a prickle at the base of your spine. You don’t stop walking, don’t let yourself even slow down, but your eyes flick up for a second as you pass. He’s already looking at you.

No smile this time. Just a look. Knowing. Amused. Maybe even a little curious.

You don’t sleep that night. You lay on top of the covers, flushed and sweating, thighs aching, fingers between your legs and his voice thick in your ears like a broken record.

It gets worse the first time you see him smoking.

You’re just getting home from a walk—just seeing what changed since you moved away for college—and there he is. Leaning against the porch railing, half in shadow, lighting up like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Burning Marlboro between two thick fingers, zippo clink-snap, that slow inhale, head tipped back.

You’ve never found smoking hot. You’ve told people that. Sworn up and down that it’s gross.

But god, the way he does it—lazy, practiced, like he’s got nowhere to be and all the time in the world to ruin you—it sparks something in your stomach. You stand there for half a second too long, staring at the curve of his mouth around the filter, the wrinkle at the bridge of his nose when he exhales slow through it.

“Hey, college girl,” he drawls, voice rougher than usual, like smoke got tangled in it.

You don’t even remember what you say back.

The next time he comes over, you barely make it through lunch.

Your dad's out back spraying down the patio. Brian’s in the kitchen, elbow leaning on the counter while he drinks something cold from a sweating glass. You wander in with the pretense of rinsing out a mug, keeping it casual. Normal. But when he glances up, he gives you that smile again—a lazy one, like he’s not even trying to kill you.

“You settlin’ back in okay?” he asks, voice a slow drawl that makes your knees itch. “Gotta be different from campus life.”

You nod, too quickly. “It’s quieter, for sure.”

He grins. “Bet you don’t miss the tests, though.”

“No,” you say, and then, before you can stop yourself: “I might miss the distractions, though.”

It hangs there. Quiet. Heavy.

His gaze drops—barely. Not subtle. Not obscene either. Just enough to make your breath stutter.

He lifts his glass again, watching you over the rim as he drinks.

“How old are you now?” he asks, voice casual, like he’s asking what major you picked instead of checking if he’s stepping over a line.

You smile. “Old enough to know better.”

And fuck, you almost regret saying it the moment it leaves your mouth. Almost. But you hold the look. You don’t back down.

He smiles—slower this time. Like he’s tucking that little answer away somewhere warm and private.

From the backyard, the hissing of the hose cuts off. Your dad’s coming back.

You rinse your mug, heart pounding, thighs pressed tight together, mouth too dry.

Brian leans back against the counter, watching you like he’s just figuring out what kind of game you’re playing.

You think that’s the end of it. You really do. Just a casual little moment that you’ll squirrel away for later, up in your room, alone with your fingers. You’re still humming with it, flustered and hot under the skin, about to make your quiet escape upstairs, when—

“Hey, Brian,” your dad calls from the open back door. “You mind running to the store? I forgot to pick up the meat for the grill.”

Brian groans, real dramatic. “Sir, yes sir,” he drawls, mock-saluting with two fingers, beer still in hand. Your dad snorts and waves him off.

Your mouth moves before your brain does. “I’ll come too.”

Both men look over at you. You lean casually against the wall like you haven’t just been thinking about Brian’s hands around your throat for the past fifteen minutes.

“I wanna see if anything’s changed around town,” you add, breezy, like you haven't been doing just that for the past week since being back. “I’ve been gone a while. Might grab something for myself.”

Your dad shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Brian tips his head in a loose nod, mouth twitching like he knows.

You follow him out to the truck—a beat-up rusty red thing that rumbles low when he starts it. He moves around it like he’s been driving it for decades. Like he is the truck. And when you climb into the passenger seat and close the door, you realize two things:

One—it smells like him.

Not just sweat and smoke, but something sharp and masculine underneath, like old cologne that should be called "Panty Soaker", and pine sap and a trace of grease. Something faintly woodsy, faintly wrong. The kind of scent that shouldn't make your cunt throb—but does anyway. You squirm a little, heart doing stupid things in your chest.

And two—you forgot your seatbelt.

You reach for it, fumbling with the buckle, and then Brian’s hand is there instead. Steady. Calm. Deadly.

“Here,” he murmurs, already leaning over.

You freeze. His chest brushes your arm, warm through his t-shirt. His breath ghosts past your jaw. His hand comes across your lap, slow and certain, and the back of it—rough, work-callused—presses up against your tit as he clicks the buckle into place.

The touch is brief. Accidental. Totally innocuous.

But your nipple still goes hard under the fabric, and you think he feels it—because his eyes flick to yours for just a second before he pulls back.

“Safety first,” he says, amused.

You force out a breathy laugh. “Right. Of course.”

The drive should be short. You’ve done this run a thousand times. But today, it feels like forever. The engine hums low, the summer heat warping the world outside, and you keep shifting in your seat, thighs pressed tight, because fuck. The windows are down but it’s not enough.

At the first red light, he lights a cigarette, and you almost lose your mind.

It’s slow—like everything else he does. One hand on the wheel, the other flicking his lighter, cig perched lazy between two fingers. He draws it in, deep and idle, and your eyes follow the movement like it’s choreographed. Like he’s doing it just for you.

You hate the smell, the diseases that come with it. But this is sex in motion. This is your legs twitching, breath skipping, hands digging into the hem of your shorts like they might save you from yourself.

Brian glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You alright over there, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

You nod, too quickly. “Yeah. Just… warm.”

He blows smoke out the window, lips curled. “Yeah. Summer here’ll do that.”

You press your thighs together harder.

He says nothing else, just drives—with that one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on his thigh, cigarette dangling, ash drifting, windows down and the wind tugging at the collar of his shirt. You sneak a glance when you think he’s not looking—at his jaw, the stubble there, the vein in his forearm flexing when he turns the wheel. At his mouth, parted slightly around the filter.

He knows. You know he knows. It’s in the smirk that threatens every time you look away too fast. In the silence that stretches, thicker and heavier with each passing second.

You’re already wet by the time the store comes into view. The same sad little building it’s always been—weather-worn siding, a rusted-out sign, flickering neon in the window that hasn’t changed since you were in middle school.

The parking lot’s quiet when he pulls in—just a few scattered cars and the heavy buzz of cicadas droning from the trees beyond. The truck rumbles low, rocking gently as he throws it into park.

He stretches his arms overhead, shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his lower stomach, the dark trail of hair disappearing into his jeans. The motherfucker.

“Be right back,” he mutters, tapping the dash with two fingers. “Don’t run off.”

Like you could.

The second the door closes, the heat inside the cab spikes tenfold. You exhale like you’ve been holding your breath the whole time—which, you might have with the way you're panting now.

It’s not even a minute before your hand’s pressing between your thighs, subtle but needy, trying to ease the pulse that’s been throbbing since he touched your seatbelt. You can’t stop shifting, thighs rubbing for any relief, underwear clinging to your cunt like a second skin. It does nothing. Not when your brain’s replaying the brush of his fingers against your nipple in crisp, HD detail, and his smell is all around you.

You don’t even remember what the hell you said you needed from the store. That thought left your body the moment Brian leaned over you like he owned the air you breathed.

He’s quick. Barely five minutes pass before he comes back, two plastic bags swinging from one hand. There’s a heat to him when he opens the door, a fresh blast of sun and sweat and man, and you scramble to sit like you weren’t just about to hump the seat.

“Only had ribs left,” he grunts, tossing the bags onto your lap. “Hope your dad ain’t picky.”

You practically snatch them. “I’ll hold ‘em.”

The weight of the meat gives you something to hide behind. A barrier. A fucking prop to mask the frantic, near-desperate squirm of your thighs as he settles back in beside you.

Brian raises a brow, but doesn’t comment.

The truck growls to life again, and you start the drive back. Or rather—he does. You’re just trying to stay sane. It’s quiet for a few minutes, windows rolled partway down, the wind kissing your skin just enough to sting where you’re hot and aching.

Then, he fucking says it.

"Y'know," he begins, slow and easy, flicking ash out the window with one hand on the wheel, "you keep rubbin' your legs together like that, baby, you're gonna start a fire."

Your whole body locks up—then melts. The heat between your legs pulses, sharp and greedy, and your head turns fast enough to give you whiplash.

You want to die. Or melt. Or crawl into his lap and grind until the ache goes away. Anything but this excruciating limbo.

Your voice comes out smaller than you intend—but still laced with heat. “Well. You’re the one who lit the match.”

Silence.

Brian turns his head just enough to cut you a look.

That look. Eyes dragging over your face, down your chest, lingering on the way your thighs twitch under the grocery bags.

The corner of his mouth lifts. Not a smile. A threat.

“Girl,” he says, warning low, “I’m twice your damn age.”

“Not quite,” you murmur.

“Your daddy’d skin me alive.”

“Not if he doesn't find out.”

It rings in the truck. The kind of pause that leaves you exposed and vibrating with nerves, unsure if you’ve crossed a line or stepped straight into a fire you can’t put out.

You almost laugh. You can’t believe yourself. Can’t believe him. Can’t believe this is real and not some dirty late-night fantasy you cooked up during finals week.

Another beat of silence. Then he exhales sharply through his nose. Something like a laugh, something like a curse. A hand comes up, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shit.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

Just swerves onto a side road. A forgotten little access road behind an abandoned building, tucked into the trees, the kind of place teenagers go to smoke weed or fuck in secret. Gravel crunches under the tires as he pulls around to the back of the building and slides the truck into the shade.

He puts it in park. Then leans back, crosses his arms, and lets out one of those low, rough-throated dad-sighs. The kind that comes from somewhere deep in the chest, worn and exasperated and loaded.

You stay still. Breathing hard. The ribs are heavy in your lap, but not heavy enough to weigh down the full-body ache that’s curling low and hot in your belly.

He doesn’t look at you. He just waits like he’s giving you the floor. Like he’s giving you a choice.

And you take your pick real quick.

You move. Real slow. Real careful. Like you’re trying not to spook a wild animal. Your hands slide the bag of ribs off your lap, set it gently on the dashboard. It thuds against the plastic, soft and weighted—nothing compared to the pounding of your heart in your ears, in your throat, in your fucking clit.

Brian still hasn’t looked at you. But he hasn’t stopped you either.

You shift closer. Inching. Crawling into his space like a heat-seeking missile. The cab’s not big, and the heat in it is oppressive, stifling. You can smell him again—dust, pine, skin, man. Every molecule is sticking to you, soaking in through your pores like gasoline.

And then, finally, finally, he turns. Meets you halfway. Leans in so slow your breath catches on your tongue, your mouth already parting in anticipation. His hand comes up, not to stop you, but to brush his knuckles along your jaw—just once, feather-light.

And his voice, when it hits you, is a wrecking ball in the chest.

“That thirsty, huh?” he murmurs, lips brushing yours but not giving in. “Big enough of a slut to crawl into some grown-ass man’s lap just ‘cause he smiled at you?”

Your whole body shivers. Your clit throbs. Your thighs tighten like a vice. You can't even breathe, let alone speak.

Because before you can answer, Brian takes your mouth. Devours it. The kiss is messy. Instant. Tongue and teeth and breath and heat. He groans low into your mouth, not soft, not sweet—hungry, like he’s tasting something so sweet it chokes in his throat. But he’s not sloppy, not needy. You’re the one chasing his tongue, you’re the one moaning, melting, clawing at his chest with shaking hands.

He’s calm and controlled. Because this isn't his first time making some wide-eyed needy thing lose their mind in the front seat of a truck.

His hand stays on your jaw, firm now, fingers threading into your hair as he angles your head, deepens the kiss like he owns your mouth—and you let him. Beg him. Your hips squirm without permission, and that’s when his other hand moves, right up your chest.

Fingers find your tits through your shirt and he pinches one of your nipples, lazy and practiced. Like he’s barely thinking about it. Like he knows what it’ll do to you and doesn’t need to try.

You fucking whimper. Whimper.

And that smug, amused breath of laughter he huffs into your mouth makes you want to cry and cum at the same time.

“Oh, sugar,” he coos mockingly, slow and smoky between kisses and laughter, “look at you. You’re gonna make a mess in my seat, huh?”

Your hand scrambles down to his lap without thinking. Palm pressed hard against his crotch, finding the thick line of his cock through his jeans and gripping tight. Messy. Desperate. You rock into him with your wrist, just enough friction to make your thighs quake.

He laughs again. That deep, warm, drawl of a laugh, fond and filthy and just the right kind of mean.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes half-lidded and wild with heat. “Desperate, huh? Like I ain’t even gotta touch you and you’ll cum on the spot.”

You want to argue. Say something smart. Sassy. Instead, your hips jerk again and he just grins.

“Go on then,” he drawls, tapping two fingers against the denim over his thigh like he’s giving you a fucking command. “Show me how wet, baby. Maybe I’ll think about lettin’ you ride it.”

Your throat goes dry. Your panties are ruined.

You move fast, too fast, and he chuckles low when your knee bangs the glove compartment. But you’re already slipping a hand down the front of your shorts, past the waistband of your panties—drenched.

Fingers slide right in. No resistance. You gasp, legs twitching, the obscene squelch echoing in the tight cab, and Brian groans.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, watching you like you’re something obscene. “You finger yourself that fast all the time or is it just ‘cause you want my cock?”

You moan. Shaky, humiliated, needy.

“‘Course it is,” he answers for you, reaching over, taking your wrist. Pulls your hand out and shoves two of your fingers in his mouth. Sucks them with that slow swirl of his tongue like he’s tasting dessert. Like he likes it.

And then, before you can breathe, his own hand is in your shorts. Thick, rough fingers, way bigger than yours, pushing inside you like they belong there. The stretch makes your eyes roll, and he’s so lazy with it it's bordering on disrespectful. Slow pumps. No mercy. No buildup. Just fucking you with that knuckle-deep pressure that makes your thighs snap shut around his wrist.

“Oh my god—”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your jaw, voice a low rumble. “That’s it. So fuckin’ tight. You ain’t had a real man in you, huh? Been lettin’ some soft lil’ college boy rub your clit and call it sex?”

You’re soaked. Soaked. Your thighs are clenched, hips rocking against the seat, trying to get friction from fucking air while two thick fingers drag along the top wall of your cunt with this casual rhythm that wrecks you.

Squish, squelch, squick—so fucking loud it fills the cab, slick coating his fingers and seeping through the denim of your shorts. He pushes them further down with his knuckles, thumb brushing your clit every now and then—just enough to make your legs twitch.

You’re panting.

He snorts. “That all it takes? Two fingers and some sweet-talkin’? Fuck, you're a mess.”

Then—just to prove it—he picks up the pace. Fucking you deeper, harder, and you clamp a hand over your mouth but it’s too late. That high, messy sob rips out anyway. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and you cum like a fucking earthquake. Loud. Sudden. Shaking. So fast it’s almost pathetic. Almost. Brian thinks it’s adorable.

It hits so hard your hips jump off the seat, and he just laughs. Not cruel—just amused. Pleased.

“Shit,” he grins, dragging his fingers out slow, soaked in you. He holds them up, watches a string of slick stretch between them like a web. “You really are a fuckin' slut.”

You whimper, but you’re already unbuckling his jeans. You can’t help it. You need him in your mouth. He shifts just enough, pulls his cock out—flushed and thicker than you had time to imagine. Your mouth waters instantly.

“C’mon,” he mutters, tone lazy like he’s asking you to pass the remote. “You gonna suck it or just stare?”

You don't even ease into it. Mouth stretching around the head, tongue dragging hot and slow along the underside. You spit, let it drip from your tongue to his shaft and stroke him with your fist, spreading it all messy, coating him, strings of spit breaking when you pull back to breathe.

Then you take him in again. Deeper. Sloppier. The tip of his cock bumps your soft palate and your throat flutters.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, head falling back against the seat. One hand finds your head—not pushing, just resting—while the other fishes in his shirt pocket for a cig. “This the shit you learn in college, baby?”

You moan around him. Spit gurgling. Drooling past your lips and down to your chest, soaking your shirt. It’s dripping onto the seat, pooling between his legs. Your nose is pressed to his pelvis, throat flexing around him, thighs pressing together when the clink of his lighter hits your ears.

“Get the balls too,” he murmurs, smoke hissing out around his words. “C’mon. You wanna be a good girl, don’t you?”

You dip lower, drool stringing down between your tits, and take one of his balls into your mouth, tongue swirling wet around the heat where drool pooled down where your hand wasn't quick enough to catch it. His breath stutters. You look up, barely able to see him through tears you couldn't stop, and the sight makes your whole body clench.

He looks like a fucking dream. Hair pushed back off his face, brow furrowed, cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth like he forgot it was there—ash curling long at the end, barely hanging on. His nostrils flare as he exhales smoke slow through his nose, cock heavy on your cheek, his hand keeping your head just close enough.

“Yeah?” he mutters, barely above a whisper. Smirking like he’s watching the goddamn sunrise. “You like that?” he rumbles, one hand dropping heavy to your hair. His fingers card through slow at first, gentle. But then they twist, and he’s guiding your mouth back on his cock with slow pulls and pushes, easing you into a rhythm that’s got your throat straining and your jaw burning.

You choke when he nudges deeper, and his hand tightens—not mean, just firm, controlling the pace like he’s shifting gears. He groans deep and rough—like thunder rolling in his chest—and you feel him swell on your tongue.

And just when you think he’s about to lose it, Brian tugs you back by the hair—slow, deliberate, like pulling you out of a dream. His cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, absolutely soaked. He leans forward, ashes his cigarette out the window, and gives your swollen lips a once-over. Spit strings between them and his shaft, connecting like glue, trailing across your chin and cheek as you pant for breath.

“C’mere.”

He reaches for the lever on the side of his seat and yanks it back—click-click-click-thunk—until he’s laid almost flat, pants shoved down, cock standing up and twitching against his stomach.

“Turn ‘round.”

You blink. Breathless.

“Ass to me, baby,” he says, patting his lap. “Wanna see what all that bouncin’ looks like. Hold the wheel if you need to.”

You’re already climbing. Clumsy, fevered, losing your clothes in a daze. Shorts shoved down, panties a lost cause. You face the dash, plant your hands on the steering wheel for balance, spreading yourself on your haunches above him, wide enough to hear an approving hum behind you.

The stretch is criminal once you sink down. Your cunt flutters around the thick push of him as he sinks in inch by inch, cock parting you wide and deep.

He groans. Hands gripping your hips. Head dropped back against the seat.

“Shit,” he grits out. “Tight as fuck. Feels like you're gonna break my dick.”

You’re already bouncing, rhythm messy and desperate, thighs trembling as you fuck yourself on his cock like it’s the only thing keeping you alive, steering wheel creaking in your grip, the whole cab rocking with every slap of your ass against his hips.

His hands slam down on your ass, spreading you, guiding you, thumbs digging in to see the way his cock disappears into your slick, clenching cunt, watching the helpless flutter around him every time you lift and drop. Slapping the curve and lifting you just enough to slam you back down.

“Shit,” you gasp, hair stuck to your cheeks, sweat dripping down your back. “Fuck—fuck, Brian—”

You look back, mouth open, eyes glazed. He’s watching you like you’re something divine. Smoke curls from his nose, half-lidded eyes fixed on the way your ass sways and ripples every time you slam down on him.

He takes one last drag, lip curled, then flicks the cigarette out the cracked window.

“Look at you,” he mutters, voice honeyed and thick with awe. “Look at this fuckin’ show. This what you wanted, baby?"

You whine, nodding frantically, rolling your hips harder—sloppier. It's so much better than your mind conjured up in the privacy of your room. The way he talks alone is enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, but the way he thrusts up to meet your movements, cock hitting so deep you feel it in your stomach, is enough to get you clenching again.

Brian lets go of one cheek and grabs a fistful of your hair instead, wrapping it around his wrist and yanking your head back, keeping your spine arched while you grind on him.

“C’mon, baby, ride this shit,” he grunts, low and ragged. “You gonna cum f'me again?”

You sob—that’s how close you are. And you do. It feels like something detonating in your pelvis—your walls clenching so hard it's a wonder they're not snapping his cock in half, thighs twitching, whole body shuddering with the force of it. You cry out, damn near screaming, chest heaving, tears spilling from your eyes as you writhe on his cock.

But he doesn’t let you stop.

“Uh-uh,” he growls, voice thick. “Keep movin’. You want me to cum too? Keep movin’, sweetheart.”

You do your best—riding through the aftershocks, overstimulated, breathless, using every last bit of strength you’ve got to keep bouncing, but you're barely keeping up with him chasing his own high, pounding up into you so hard it knocks you forward every time.

Brian groans—loud—his grip tightening. You feel him swell inside you, feel the twitch of his cock, the sharpness of his breath.

But right before he cums, he smacks your ass.

“Off. Get off it.”

You scramble forward, barely catching yourself on the steering wheel. Chest pressed against it, panting, trembling. You don’t even fully register what’s happening until you feel his cock slide out, slick and shiny with your cum, the cool air hitting your soaked pussy.

And then—his moan.

You look back, dazed, and see him fisting himself fast, cock flushed and soaked, abs flexing as he stares at your swollen cunt and the twitch of your thighs, ass arched up like an offering.

“Jesus fuck, baby—” he growls, and then he cums, thick ribbons of it painting up his stomach and down his hand, dripping off the hair on his belly.

He pants through it, watching your body shake as you stay bent over the wheel, your thighs glistening and your cunt fluttering with every little aftershock.

Silence.

Just the sound of your heavy breathing and the creak of the car riding out your desperate bounces.

You don’t move.

Neither does he.

And behind you, Brian finally lets out a hoarse laugh, low and breathless.

"Y'better pray your daddy ain't asking for a ride anytime soon, baby. Whole damn car smells like we fucked in every seat now."

The air inside the truck’s thick with sex and heat and smoke. The windows fogged up, your thighs still twitching, your cunt swollen and sticky and throbbing with every bump in the road since Brian pulled back into the main road.

You’re slouched in the passenger seat, half-dressed and still boneless, one leg propped up like you’re trying to breathe. Your shorts are around your thighs—inside-out, crusted with slick—and your fingers fumble uselessly at the button as he lights a cigarette with one hand and drives with the other.

“Fuck,” you whisper, dragging a shaking hand over your face. “Fuck.”

He glances over at you with a little laugh, smoke curling out his nose.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You shoot him a look, loose-limbed and dazed, then huff as you yank your shorts up high enough to cover your mess. The zipper’s stuck. Of course it is.

Brian pulls the cig from his mouth and holds it out to you without thinking, all casual.

You just blink at it, then scoff breathlessly. “I don’t smoke.”

He smirks around the cigarette as he puts it back between his lips. “Shit. Coulda fooled me,” he mutters around a grin. “You been eyein’ my smokes all damn day—I figured you just didn’t wanna light up in front o’ daddy.”

You snort. Almost choke on it. Bite back the urge to tell him you've been eyeing his mouth around the smokes instead.

The rest of the drive is quiet, save for the radio fuzz and the occasional drag from his cig. Your heartbeat’s finally slowing down by the time he pulls back into your driveway.

The engine cuts. The quiet is loud. The ribs had gotten warm in the bag and you’re walking a little funny, but he doesn’t say a word as he follows you to the front door—clearing his throat like he's trying to shake the taste of your slick off his tongue.

You swing the door open and step inside, trying to school your face into normal.

Your dad’s in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with a beer in hand, and he glances up when the door shuts behind you.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, eyes drifting lazily to the bag in your hand. Squints. “Ribs? Thought I said pork chops." He groans, loud and grating, running a hand over his face like this is the real inconvenience of the day.

And you stand there behind your dad, tugging the hem of your shirt down to hide the open zipper of your shorts—and your shame, mostly—and when you look up, you catch Brian's eye.

He winks at you real subtle. Quick. Easy. And you can feel your pulse spike in your cunt all over again.

294 notes · View notes

midnightwriter21 · 1 year ago

Text

Left A Mark (megumi x reader fluff)

characters: megumi fushiguro x reader, gojo, itadori, nobara

warnings: FLUFFFFFFF

AN: this is short but cute asf. kinda ooc megumi? but i think he’s soft for his partner and i own jjk so it’s actually canon (i wish)

A voice calls from the front door, “Hey, i’m heading out. I gotta meet up with the others for a mission…”

Swiping the applicator across her lips to finish her makeup, Y/N calls back, “Okay, one second! Don’t leave yet!”

Quickly gathering her purse and other necessary belongings she walks from the bedroom to the front door to meet her dark haired boyfriend.

“I’m leaving too. I gotta go to the store and buy some groceries.”

He looks down at her with a small smile, “You look beautiful today.”

“You say that everyday, Meg.” Y/N giggles

He huffs a laugh, opening the front door and letting her walk out first, “Because it’s true. You look beautiful everyday.”

He closes and locks the door behind him, “This job won’t take long. I’ll be home in about an hour or two.”

“Okay, i’ll be home around then too,” Y/N reaches up and plants a kiss on his cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And he’s off to meet his classmates.

As he walks to the meeting spot at Jujutsu High Megumi notices the stares he’s getting from others. Some laughing slightly, some smiling, and a few glancing at him and saying, ‘awww’.

“The hell are they looking at..?” He grumbles under his breath.

Finally walking up to his class mates, Yuji is the first to notice him and wave him over, “Hey man, cmon! What took you so lo-… Oh?”

A shit eating grin crawls it’s way up Yuji’s face. Used to Yuji’s antics, Megumi ignores it. Until Yuji involves Nobara.

A sharp elbow to her side followed with a, “Look! Look!”, from Yuji catches her attention. Quickly, Nobara and Yuji are sporting matching smiles.

Nobara laughs, “You must’ve been busy, huh? That’s why you’re late.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Megumi responds, “Busy? I wasn’t busy. I was at home.”

“Yeahhhh, I bet you were at home,” Yuji cackles, “in bed!”

“So what? Didn’t have anything better to do before this. Why does that matter?” Megumi mutters.

As Megumi quickly becomes the source of Yuji and Nobara’s teasing, a loud voice interrupts, “WOAH! Megumi! You’re a little show off aren’t ya!”

Satoru Gojo, first year sensei at Jujutsu High and the bane of Megumi’s existence.

Turning to look at his sensei, Megumi finally asks, exasperated, “What the hell is everyone talking about and staring at me for?”

Giggling manically, Gojo hands him his cellphone, “Hehe, why don’t you take a look.”

Taking the phone and casting a quick glance at his reflection in the front facing camera Megumi’s jaw drops, “Wha-… what the hell?”

Sitting there, smack in the middle of his cheek, is a lipstick mark in the shape of his girlfriend’s lips.

Face turning bright red, Megumi hands the phone back to his sensei and grumbles, “Just shut the hell up and stop staring at me.”

Que Nobara, Yuji, and Gojo singing in unison, “Oooooooo Megumi is in looooovvveeeeee~”

“Be quiet you three idiots!”

*A FEW HOURS LATER*

Having returned from the grocery store not long ago, Y/N busied herself by putting the groceries away. Just as she’s reaching for the last grocery bag, the front door clicks open.

“Meg? Is that you?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m home!” Megumi answers.

“I’m in the kitchen! How was the mission?”

Shrugging out of his uniform jacket, Megumi makes his way to the kitchen, “It was okay. Gojo and the others are annoying as ever.”

Giggling, Y/N turns to face him, “Well you know how those three can b- oh?”

At her noise of surprise, Megumi looks up at her, “What?”

“Megs… uh.. your cheek?” Y/N gestures to her own.

“Oh yeah… Thanks for that by the way,” he sighs, “Gojo, Nobara, and Yuji gave me hell with all the teasing.”

Y/N laughs lightly, walking up to him and putting a hand over the kiss mark, “Why didn’t you just wipe it off?”

Megumi looks at her confused, “Why would I do that?”

“So nobody teases you for it?”

Megumi scoffs, placing his hands on Y/N’s hips and pulling her close, “I don’t care about their teasing that much. Besides they’re just jealous.”

Y/N smiles, questioning, “Jealous of what exactly?”

“Jealous that I have someone like you to come home to.”

Y/N blushes at his answer, before he speaks again, “And… it was kinda like you were with me all day today. But now that I’m here with you…,” he picks her up ignoring her squeak of surprise, and walks toward the bathroom, “… now I can wash it off.”

1K notes · View notes

syluslnd · 9 months ago

Note

Hi there! I'm new to tumblr and I'm one of your silent readers. I love your writing and I was wondering if you're up to take my request. I had this thought when I was looking through new pajamas to buy hehe.

Would you be interested to write a fic where the reader just finished chores and all before sylus come home from his long work trip. She took a shower but then just remembered that all her laundry aren't done yet and she only has a few pieces of longer nighties but still quite sheer. She put it on whilst waiting for the laundry to be done drying thinking she still has time to spare. Then when she was preparing dinner while listening to her music, little dancing etc, she didnt realise sylus came back home earlier than expected. He was so glad, excited and aroused to see reader in that, that he wasnt sure he could keep his 'hunger' in control anymore.

Thank you in advance for your time to read this little request of mine👉🏻👈🏻😚

Sylus who catches you in lingerie

The smell of a sizzling pan filled the kitchen as you swayed to the soft rhythm of music playing from your phone. You wore nothing but a skimpy set of sheer shorts and a crop top, practically lingerie, but you hadn't planned to look this revealing.

You were just doing laundry and this was the only thing left to wear. The music, paired with the warmth of the stove, had you dancing a little, your body moving sensually to the beat as you stirred the ingredients.

It had been weeks since Sylus had been home. His work trip had felt never-ending and you missed him more than you'd admit.

Being by yourself like this, you'd let your guard down, lost in the moment as you twirled and swayed around the kitchen.

What you didn't realize was that Sylus had already slipped into the house. Quiet as always, his steps were soundless as he entered, taking in the sight of you moving so seductively without a care in the world. He leaned against the doorframe, watching you, eyes darkening as he took in every curve of your body, barely hidden by the flimsy fabric.

He was captivated. The way your hips moved, the way the fabric clung to you... the sight was almost too much after so long away. His pulse quickened, desire simmering in him like a fire he could no longer ignore.

Without saying a word, he reached out and turned off the music.

The sudden silence startled you, and you spun around quickly, eyes wide. "Sylus!" you gasped, your heart racing from the surprise.

You hadn't even heard him come in.

He didn't say anything at first just stood there his gaze raking over your exposed skin. His eyes were dark and the hunger in them made your breath hitch. Slowly, he started toward you, each step deliberate, his presence overwhelming.

"I-uh..." you stammered, backing up slightly feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you suddenly became hyper-aware of how little you were wearing. "I didn't know you were home."

Sylus stopped just inches from you, towering over you in that way that always made you feel so small, so delicate. His eyes were half-lidded and the smirk playing on his lips was nothing short of predatory. "Clearly" he said in a low, teasing tone "or you wouldn't be prancing around half-naked like this."

You opened your mouth to explain but the words got caught in your throat. The way he was looking at you, the way his body seemed so tense with desire—it was intoxicating. "I-I was just... doing laundry” you finally managed, your voice shaky.

"These were the only clothes left."

He raised an eyebrow, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. "Laundry, huh?" His voice dripped with amusement. "and you decided to make dinner dressed like that?"

"I didn't think you'd be home yet..." you mumbled, feeling your cheeks flush even more. His hand trailed down from your hair, grazing lightly over your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. His touch was barely there but it felt like fire on your skin.

Sylus chuckled softly, stepping closer until your back hit the counter. His body was so close, you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you so thick it was suffocating. "You didn't think I'd be home to catch you dancing around like that?" His eyes flicked down to your sheer shorts, his smirk growing wider. "Or maybe... you wanted me to catch you."

Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance between you. His hands found your hips gripping you just hard enough to make you gasp. "That's not- I wasn't-" You tried to protest but your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch, craving more of the closeness you'd missed for weeks.

Sylus' lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my hands off you right now, kitten?"

A shudder ran through you at his words, your body aching with need. "Sylus..."

"I've been gone for too long” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your neck, sending a spark of heat straight through you.

"And here you are, looking like this, teasing me the moment I get back."

"I wasn't trying to-" Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed your skin ever so lightly.

"Weren't you?" His voice was low, dangerous, filled with a need he wasn't bothering to hide anymore. His hands slid up your sides, fingers teasingly brushing over the fabric of your crop top barely touching but enough to make you tremble under his touch. "You're making it hard for me to believe that, sweetie."

Your legs felt weak under his touch, his words, his presence. Everything about him made you dizzy with want, especially after so long without him. "I missed you” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Sylus' lips curled into a slow, satisfied grin.

"Is that why you're dressed like this? For me?" His hands trailed down, teasing the edge of your shorts, fingers brushing dangerously close to the bare skin beneath.

"Or should I be worried that this is just how you cook now?"

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but it was impossible. His touch, his voice, the way he was looking at you-it was too much. "It's not like that..."

He hummed, unconvinced, as his fingers traced small, deliberate circles on your hips, just barely dipping under the waistband of your shorts. "You're lucky I have some self-control, kitten. Because right now.." He leaned in, his lips hovering just over yours, close enough that you could feel his breath but not close enough to kiss. "Right now, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold back."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sent a wave of heat straight through you. His body pressed against yours, trapping you between him and the counter, his hands now gripping your waist firmly.

Every inch of him was tense, and you could feel just how much he was holding back.

"Sylus, I..."

He cut you off, his mouth finally crashing into yours, hungry, demanding, his lips devouring yours as though he'd been starving for this.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his need overwhelming.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you needed something to hold onto. His kiss was possessive, desperate and you could feel how much he had missed you in every movement.

When he finally pulled away, his breathing was ragged, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at you. "You have no idea what you do to me” he growled, his voice low and rough. "And if you keep teasing me like this..."

You swallowed, your heart racing as you stared up at him, your body aching with the same need he was feeling. "Then don't hold back" you whispered, your voice barely audible but you knew he heard every word.

Sylus' eyes flickered with something primal as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear. "Be careful what you ask for, sweetie. Because once I start, I won't stop."

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you

451 notes · View notes

moon-ttokki-x · 2 months ago

Note

hiiii

something like this for a seungmin x 9th reader fic?:

https://www.tumblr.com/nightmarenyxx/782437028022321152/please-someone-write-something-with-the-chaumet

hii !! i'm actually not gonna do a 9th member fic since i can't think of anything for it (sorry...), but those chaumet pics SCREAm bodyguard seungmin to me, so here >< hope it makes up for it . . .

bodyguard!kim seungmin headcanons

pairing: bodyguard!kim seungmin x charge!reader

summary: how bodyguard seungmin would be around his charge hehe

genre: bodyguard!au, mentions of blood, bruises, broken bones, reader is a little clumsy, seungmin being a gentleman, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of fighting and harassment, slight hints of bodyguard + charge to lovers? this is such a wattpad thing to write about but who cares lmao

a/n: chaumet seungmin is as close to doberman seungmin we're gonna get . . . sigh . div by @dollywons

skz masterlist

bodyguard!seungmin who has a soft spot for his charge, always letting them do whatever they would like to (unless it puts you in danger). you want to climb a tree? sure, he's just gonna stand underneath and look up in case you fall. you want to eat something ridiculously unhealthy? go for it, but he's gonna make sure you have proper meals the rest of the day. whatever you want to do, he'll calmly oblige while keeping an eye out for any threats (and yes, that does include making sure you don't ingest obscene amounts of calories).

bodyguard!seungmin who wakes you in the mornings with a gentle shake and a pull of the curtains. he's figured out that the easiest way to wake up in the mornings is to let some sunlight into the room. he stands by, fully dressed and proper, while you yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes. doesn't blink at the state of your ruffled clothes and bedhead, but he smirks to himself as he turns to pour you a cup of tea. he hands it to you and tries to fight a sigh as you immediately spill it over the duvet. oops . . .

bodyguard!seungmin who chides you when you get injured, no matter if it's a broken arm or a papercut. not that he would ever let you get injured when he's around; he always has a watchful eye out for you, but even so, you have a tendency to stumble and trip. doesn't scold you or treats your injuries harshly, but sits quietly and gently reminds you to be careful next time. administers first aid with a gentle touch, one reserved only for you, and rolls his eyes when you cheekily ask him to kiss your wounds better (he wants to so badly).

bodyguard!seungmin who subtly protects you in public; he holds his jacket over you when you're going up the escalator or a flight of stairs, stands in front of you while you fix your outfit, and keeps an eye on any people you talk to in case they make you uncomfortable. would definitely be the type of guy to give you his blazer if you're ever cold or feel exposed with what you're currently wearing. i have a feeling he would roll his eyes and mutter under his breath, but secretly, he really likes seeing you in his clothes. and he would 100% rather have to face the cold than have you shivering next to him.

bodyguard!seungmin who doesn't show off when it comes to defending you; just does what he has to in order to protect you, then takes you and runs. moves fast beyond comprehension; the attackers or harassers never see him coming. let me tell you, the seungmin blur is the deadliest force known to humanity, and he takes pride in what he does. no one who messes with you ever walks away without at least several bruises and broken bones. he definitely checks you over after, much more than he needs to. is scanning your arms and face for injuries even on the car ride home, even after you reassure him that you're fine.

bodyguard!seungmin who has a gun in the inside pocket of his blazer, but refuses to use it unless absolutely necessary. is hesitant to even pull it out of the slot after you begged him not to use it on people. you know sometimes people will try to hurt you, but you can't stand the thought of blood on seungmin's hands, not least because he's trying to protect you. if the situation is really bad, he'll whip out his knife. he can't put aside his bodyguard duties in favour of your opinion, so he'll do as little damage as possible, whipping the person unconscious or nicking them. it's usually enough to scare them away (most of the time..).

a/n: inspired by the felix bodyguard series by @skzdarlings !!

ttokki's taglist: @emilyywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @sillyseob @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585 @astraystayyh @m-325 @gnabnahcbby @mbioooo0000 @akindaflora @tsunderelino @hhwangsmoon @crazyforthatbangchandude @bluebellsringinghereandthere @ladylexis @tillaboo @geni-627 @jsngprk-vhs @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca

send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !

219 notes · View notes

juicerca · 2 months ago

Text

“scratch me instead,, ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

sylus x reader ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

MDNI

author note: this is a horribly, horribly self-indulgent fic idea i had for any who have eczema, or generally itchy skin with little scabs everywhere. my eczema has been sooooo annoying recently (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) so the mc kinda yaps (whines) a lot...

synopsis: sylus body worshipping you (🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️) after you finish getting out the shower.

content: cat-like behaviours from MC (purring, mewing), lots of kisses, bounded wrists by inappropriate usage of evol (to stop u from scratching!! not because he wants to bind you or anything... okay maybe a little...), penetration, a smidgen of cockwarming, soft!sylus, affirmations!!! the sex is soooooo slow, so many check ins, so much fluff, a little plot, will need to scroll for smut, reader is receiving!! but no genitalia specified (lots of lube instead kekekeke) :]

pet-names: kitten, sweetie, darling, love

word count: 2,8k !! the first 1.3k is just fluff tbh

the reader's gender or pronouns aren't specified so i hope all us eczema people can enjoy hehe.

₍^. .^₎⟆ ⋆ 🐾 °

every time you finished taking a shower, you had a little routine that sylus had started picking up on. it would first be to apply a moisturiser, and this special ointment that the doctors prescribed to you ( you swore it didn't work, but you didn't really have any alternatives ), before ending it with this 'bio-oil' that was meant to heal scars ( which at least it smelt nice even if it didn't work ).

sometimes you would ask him to buy products for you when your prescribed creams ran out, and sometimes he would get the privilege of applying it for you if you were a little too tired. he always delighted in being of use to you, and spending money on you was second nature to him.

after your shower, you sat down on the bed huffing and puffing as you slathered the cream onto your drying skin. sylus adjusted himself to sit up at your little sounds, looking up from his book of gun maintenance. a large hand softly held your arm as he nestled his nose into the nook of your shoulder. his robe was open (shameless) and he was wearing only his black boxers.

"are you running out of products? i can get you an unlimited supply if you decide to join the onychinus. i am a very generous boss, i'll have you know." he chuckled.

that beautiful, small, husky sound you would usually feel so much happier to hear. in truth, he would get boxes of your prescription even if you wouldn't join onychinus ( through illegal means if necessary ), if you would just tell him what to get.

usually you would just let it roll off your back and snort at him, but for some reason your skin had been extra irritable recently, and it was starting to get to you. it was obvious to sylus who had noted your sudden insistence on long sleeves, and the subtle scratching that turned into little slaps on the parts of your skin that were especially irritating you.

"i'm fine," you felt that was a bit snippy so you correct yourself, sighing a little, "thanks though..."

he tilted his head, pulling you in with his arm around your waist to lie against his broad chest.

"sweetie? is something the matter?"

"i don't know...it's stupid."

"it's not stupid if it regards you."

you teared up a little, before deciding to be honest and said this in one shaky breath,

"it's just...i keep bleeding on all the sheets and my skin is just so dry and flaky...and i have these scabs just everywhere. and you just have perfect skin...not to make this like a competition or anything it's just a bit like...i don't know... stupid. it's stupid."

you started scratching at your shoulders and arms, just irritated and frustrated. only feeling that tiny bit of reprieve when it started to sting and bleed.

he sat up properly, turning your body to face him and holding your hands gently to stop you from scratching.

"i could use my evol to heal these scabs over for now, if that's what you want...but personally," he kissed your knuckles, trailing his lips up your arms and then softly whispered against your bloodied scabs in that utterly honey-like voice that just pooled heat in your tummy, "these little scars of yours? i think they're cute, kitten. you've become your own scratching post, hm?"

"it's nothing that cute..." you blushed a little, and that rich laughter seeped out of him, oh so generously.

"shall i help you kick the habit?"

he suggested with a wide, foxy smile as he generously lathered his hands in cream, casually applying it for you.

"how would i do that?"

"why don't you let me show you a few tricks i have up my sleeve? it might not be a long-term fix...but it should make you feel better for the night. if you feel like scratching, you can use my back. a lot more surface area, hm?"

"that's not going to work."

he smiled, hearing a little sass in your voice always perked him up. knowing you weren't as upset as you were before made him feel so alive. after all, when you lived as you selfishly pleased his heart would sing.

"you'll still indulge me won't you?"

"mm...okay, sure." you replied, reaching to scratch the little scab on your arm.

hm.

your habit was more persistent than he realised.

he took your hands and held your wrists together gently. you could break away easily, but your own curiosity would be the end of you.

"kitten, would you like to try something? how about i keep your wrists together so you can't scratch? something like this."

he snapped his fingers, his evol forming a pair of cuffs around you that he could manipulate at will.

"nostalgic, no?" he chuckled and you couldn't help giggling as well.

"that evol linkage was a little miracle. i'm glad it happened."

his eyes softened,

"yes, i am too...you always were persistent, my love."

"how was that my fault? i didn't make the cuffs." you pouted, forgetting temporarily about your itchiness.

"well it certainly wasn't my fault. though i'd be willing to accept partial blame," he cocked an eyebrow with that smirk you came to grow so fond of, "so, my predator? would you be willing to be my captured prey for tonight?"

you hummed, wondering whether you should tease him further, but honestly you wanted someone to bind you from ruining your skin further so badly. and he was just the perfect person to do it.

"here," you pressed your wrists together in front of his face, and joked, "i offer myself to you. your prisoner for the night."

he tightened his evol around you so your wrists were practically glued together with an amused huff.

"i will cherish this. though, if i had it my way... you'd be my prisoner for a much longer time than just tonight..."

his hands reached for the bottle of lube kept in his drawer, slathering his hands just how he does when he applies your creams for you. something about his fingers and the way they curled so naturally was just utterly sinful.

he realised midst slicking up that you hadn't finished your little skincare routine and he freezed.

"sy?"

"sweetie...we didn't finish taking care of your skin."

"oh..."

"one second."

he undid the evol cuffs and went to wash his hands, before coming back and taking care of your skin with the utmost care. you really did feel like a masterpiece when under his hands. even utterly naked and vulnerable in front of him, sitting on your fluffy towel, you felt so safe and loved.

"you know what kitten?"

"hm?"

"you don't have to have perfect skin. you are enough. just the way you are. and not to mention you're the most breathtaking person i know, even with your marks you don't seem very fond of."

he talked with such sincerity. like every word was his last and all he wanted to remain in the world of him was his devotion to you.

"you shouldn't be ashamed of them, rather...these little scars are endearing. though you should be making use of me more often."

you heart panged with a tenderness only he could bring to you.

"use you?"

"yes," he chuckled, "buy more things with my account, make me apply your skincare products for you. anything. you should be more greedy."

his hands massaged your body so tenderly, cooling all of your heated itching points.

"you don't want enough from me, and it pains me... especially since i ask for so much of you, and want all of you...a little greed is good for your soul." he said with that lazy smile.

you could laugh at how untrue that was. sylus was always giving. so, so generous and it made you feel utterly spoiled.

"is that so?"

"i'd like to think i know quite a fair amount about your soul. trust me on this one darling."

he finished off with the oil, and then proceeded by pressing a kiss to each little scab and bloodspot on your skin. you giggled as his lips and nose brushed against your skin ever so lightly. like the brush of a feather on your skin.

your dove.

you ruffle his hair, pressing a kiss to his cheek in gratitude. he exhaled through his nose in amusement, thoroughly basking in your affections and giggles.

"if i get to kiss these every time you feel upset, i think these little scars of yours might be my favourite part of you now," he chuckled, "perhaps you should even invest in even more of them, so that i have even more to adorn in my adoration. to show you how grateful i am for everything that encompasses your existence."

he then linked your wrists behind your back.

"so allow me to pay my respects..." he gently parted your thighs and you invited him in almost immediately. shamelessly.

his large hand ran down your tummy, the red glint of desire stirring silently and with an intensity that stole your breath every time. he once again lubed his hands up, gently circling your entrance with his bony middle finger.

it was so slicked up that it slid in with ease, down to his knuckle. not enough to make you moan, but your mouth formed a small 'o' shape as it pushed against your plushy spot. his lips pressed up your collarbone to your neck, ending just below where your pulse point is.

"feel good sweetie?"

"mhm..."

"good..." he prodded at your tight hole with a second finger, "how about a second?"

"mhm, please..."

"oh wow...kitten has good manners, hm? don't worry...i'll make you feel as perfect as i see you tonight."

he slides in the second finger, stretching you open on his thick, slicked up digits. the sounds are obscene when he starts stirring your insides with them. pumping in and out against the rough texture, circling right on that spot that just made you feel so good.

"so clingy...you just won't let my fingers go..." he groaned softly with that smirk you loved to love, "not that i'd want to leave."

"mmh...more..." you breathily gasped, aching to feel him deep inside to dull this longing.

your arms burned with an urge to itch, you couldn't help it, but this was definitely helping. not to mention, no matter how much you thrashed, his evol held your hands firmly away from scratching territory.

"wanna forget everything but you sy..." he startled a little. you could tell by the way he jerked a little.

"...what a cute request. it would be unwise to decline such a generous offer." he scissored you wider, trying to prep you for the inevitable burning his girth would bring you.

he watched the way you mewled and rubbed your face against your own shoulder, knowing you had a little itchy spot there. he smiled. he couldn't help it. he found everything you did so cute.

"just a bit more kitten. you're being so good, doing so well..." his third digit edged in.

"feeling good? not too much?"

"...full but in a good way. like it. like you. your fingers feel good." you rambled, too horny to stop yourself. he groaned in response. pulling his boxers off with one hand, his pretty length revealed itself as he fisted it. pumping it slowly and with intent as he stared into your eyes.

"can't wait much longer kitten... need to feel you."

you rocked into his fingers in anticipation with a soft purr that sent blood straight to his cock. his fingers pulled out, a sticky string connecting them to your entrance before he licked them off. the stickiness sticking to his lips.

"reminds me of your birthday..." you said hazily and he grinned, a canine popping out so charmingly.

"is this the part where you kiss me then?"

you puckered your lips at him as if to invite him to do so and he chuckled, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. starving you of air as he hungrily devoured you, scouring your mouth with his tongue. the tip of his cock rubbed against your willing entrance, inching in ever so slowly. god, the burning stretch was always a surprise. he was just that thick.

"do your wrists hurt? want them up top?"

"mm..." you managed to groan out as your mind got deliriously full with thoughts of his cock.

"words, sweetie."

"up top. a little uncomfy."

his evol expertly manoeuvred your wrists above your head and he pinned them there, as his hands started to wander up your body. deciding to land on your chest where he thumbed your nipples.

"how's this?"

"goood..." you slurred out, rocking your hips against his still member. why wouldn't he just fuck you? always such a tease...

"look at my kitten purr... want more don't you?"

you nodded, whimpering and nuzzling into his neck.

"m'kay, let me ease it in...let me know if it's too much."

and when he finally bottomed out after what feels like centuries, you are so utterly blanked out and stuffed that you couldn't imagine the thought of him fucking you anymore. this was already so, so delicious on top of the masterful way he handled your body with those perfect hands of his.

your arms were around his neck, gripping at his hair as you whined about just how fucking full his cock made you feel.

"i can pull out." he teased and you hissed at him like a kitten being denied their meal.

"just...stay like this...for a second." you grunted and he complied ( typical ). he helped you onto his lap ( being the chair he was ), eliciting a soft mewl as it somehow sank his blunt head right into your needy spot. he just knew your body too well.

"ah..."

"don't rile me up sweetie... you know i can hardly resist your cute little sounds." he smiled against your skin, gently raking his fingers across your back in little scritches. meowing for him when he would scratch just right. your hips rolled into his, as the dull ache in your heat began to consume you into a burning desire for him to rail you into the bed.

but that just wasn't his style, if he could help it. sylus moaned into your ear at your needy rocking. despite asking for him to not move, you just couldn't help yourself could you?

"fuck...kitten... you want it? want me to fuck you good? want your sylus' cock to fill you up nice and properly?"

you whined in agreement and that was all he needed. he laid you down on the bed, propping your hips up with a pillow as his hands anchored on your hips. his cock dragged out slowly and it entered just as slowly. this slow motion drove you crazy as he repeated it over and over.

"this isn't enough..!" you sulked, kicking your legs petulantly into the sheets.

he chuckled.

"i suppose i did tell you to be greedier. you're a quick learner sweetie. very well, as my darling demands."

once his hips started picking up speed, the room resounded with the wet plap plap plap that echoed from your skin slapping against his. you squeaked when his evol moved your hands to his back, basically begging for you to scratch him and who are you to deny him? you grinded as much as you could on his hard cock with an insatiable appetite and he was only returning the favour after all...

you had orgasmed and came all over his cock several times by now, but he had shown no signs of slowing down. evil villain that he was, he did it all with such ease.

"i'm all the way...deep inside you," he pressed a hand on the slight bulge of your tummy, cooing with total reverence, "such a pretty kitty...taking my cock so well."

your hole leaked with white cream which he dragged out every time he thrusts. what a shame. he'd have to plug you up after filling you again.

"i'll cum so deep inside so you can feel me for days...maybe that'll distract you from your itching hm?" he chuckled. you tried to growl back, but it came out more as a pitiful moan.

"so sensitive...just can't stop cumming. can't even talk to me anymore? what a pity..." he moaned through a cocky grin, kissing your body endlessly, "don't worry, your limbs will be so weak you won't be able to scratch even if you want to."

and so, he insistently fucked you that night.

but, to be honest, you weren't in a mood to stop him.

your throat would be hoarse, your lower back aching and your hole would feel raw for a week after this, but you just couldn't bring yourself to care. it felt incredible and you just knew it meant you'd be pampered like royalty by your favourite person in the whole world.

"you're more than what you see in the mirror, my beloved... you are my entire meaning in this universe...and nothing will change that. and it definitely won't be affected by you bloodying my sheets because of your scabbed and scarred skin."

he whispered in your ear so tenderly as you curled up into his arms post-sex and post aftercare ( where he thoroughly cleaned you with his gentle hands, and even fed you chocolate-covered strawberries as you lazed around as his perfect kitten ). pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you drifted to sleep in complete comfort.

#love and deepspace sylus #sylus smut #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #love and deepspace #GWAAAAAAA SELF INDULGENCE #SYLUSSSSSSSS MARRRRRRY MEEEEEEEEEE #this fic for me specifically #getting so feral over this man its not funny #every time i see a picture of him i literally bite the air #like i just want to bite him so bad #might make a fic abt that #like why is he so GRRRRR i want him so badly

189 notes · View notes

sweetpascal · 1 year ago

Text

" someplace nice "

summary: when simon finally comes back home from deployment, he makes sure he spoils you in the best way possible. *wink wink*

warnings: cursing, teasing touches, husband!simon needs a warning of its own UGH, filthy car sex, messy pussy eating, wet noises, missonaryyy, filthy nasty dirty talk, we already know simon has the mouth of a sailor hehe

wc: 2.8k

notes: first of all, i wanna give a big big big shoutout to @suimon because without her AMAZING FUCKING PHENOMENAL works of art, i wouldn't have gotten out of my writing funk and they truly have inspired me 🫶🏼 second of all, i was on twitter and came across this spicy video and it basically helped me create whatever this is 😭 enjoy !

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to go out tonight. in fact, you’re ecstatic to go out with your husband. it’s only been two days since simon has been back from being deployed for almost one month. he had spent the two days sleeping and getting up to eat when it’s necessary, only to go back to sleeping. you didn’t care about that. you were just happy that he was back home. safe. alive. on the third day, he surprises you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“we’re going out t’night,” he tells you, eyes all soft with a barely there smile on his lips when you go nose deep into the flowers and sniffing deeply with a pleased smile on your face. “i won’t tell you where. but it’s gonna be a nice place.”

that night, you got ready with nervous butterflies bubbling in the pit of your stomach. it had been so long since you and simon have been out on a date night. with his deployments and your full-time job, having time for yourselves, let alone as a couple was a rarity these days.

you sprayed yourself with simon’s favorite perfume of yours and did a once over in the mirror. your hair looked beautiful, your makeup was on point, your outfit wasn’t too flashy nor too casual - it was a body hugging dress with thin straps and tasteful cleavage and some wedged heels. as you walked downstairs, you saw simon waiting for you at the bottom with his keys in hand. he was dressed so nicely and the color of his dress shirt matched your dress. with tight fitting slacks and his ‘going out’ boots, you knew you’d be staring at him all night long. your cheeks warmed when you caught his gaze. his lips had parted and you could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled. although your heels added a few inches to your height, it was still nothing compared to simon. he still stood above you, two and a half heads taller.

“so.. how do i look?”

he didn’t like how hesitant you sounded. with a slow step forward, his finger hooked under your chin to lift your head up. god, the smell of him was mouth watering. you’re on your ovulating schedule so his natural musk combined with his cologne was like sinking your teeth into the tenderest meat there is. you nearly moaned. nearly.

“you look.. almost as beautiful as the day i met you,” he told you, so genuine, so soft, and so in love.

“almost?” you giggled and caught him off guard by pulling him down and clumsily kissing his chin instead of his lips.

“mhm,” he grumbled and led the way outside to his suv.

dinner went smoothly. simon had taken you both to a nice little italian restaurant downtown. it was the perfect place for a romantic night. the tables were dimly lit with candles and fresh flowers. he did everything a gentleman should do. pulling your chair out, knowing your favorite dish and ordering it for you, getting you your own dessert, paying. but the night still had a salacious vibe to it. for some reason, simon just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. his hand kept brushing up on your thigh, subtly hiking your dress up to feel your skin under his fingertips. you had to quietly scold him as the restaurant was nowhere near empty and your table wasn’t secluded from wandering eyes.

“can’t help it,” he told you in your ear, his voice all low and gruff and husky in a way that always had you tingling. “my wife s’just so fuckin’ gorgeous to look at.” and with that, he left a warm kiss under your earlobe, knowing exactly that was the spot he knew makes you whimper. and you did. only loud enough for him to her.

during the car ride home, it began to rain. it was damn near impossible to drive with the way the rain pelted hard and fast onto the windshield and roof. simon cursed under his breath, the hand resting on your thigh tightening for a brief second. you swallowed down a soft moan as it got lodged in the back of your throat. but simon, having the ears of a true soldier, heard it. he fucking hears everything. you hated and loved it simultaneously.

breaking free from your thoughts, the car swerves to the side to go down an empty road leading to an abandoned part. it was the only place farthest from town. no busy streets. no houses. no stores. it was deserted.

“si?” you were getting confused when he put the car into park and turned the ignition off. he turns on the top light and then turns to you. you expected him to give you a kiss with how he’s leaning over the console, but instead he reaches under your passenger seat, pulls the lever, and forcefully slides your seat further back so it puts a big amount of space between you and the dashboard. “simon?!”

“gimme a minute,” was all he says before getting out of the car and getting wet from the rain.

the door slams shut and you’re twisting and turning in your seat. it was pitch black outside with no streetlights, no house lights, no nothing. your side door is yanked open and simon hops in, slamming it shut and locking it after. he’s on his knees in front of you in the passenger side as you’re still in the seat, dumbfounded. he starts to unbutton his dress shirt as he stares down at you. the dim light in the car casts shadows on his face and he looks so fucking good.

your breathing starts picking up as he kneels before you shirtless. he then starts to unstrap your wedged heels, carelessly throwing them into the backseat. you finally let out a moan when he grabs your hips and forces you to slide down your seat and your thighs fall open.

“fuck, you smell so good,” simon grunts and buries his face between your thighs to mouth and nose at your covered cunt. he licks and sucks through the fabric, further getting it wet with his saliva. “taste like fuckin’ heaven.” he’s quick to slide your panties down and hoists your dress up to pool around your hips, fully exposing your bare cunt to his eyes and his eyes only.

“s-simon,” you whimper softly, eyebrows drawn and lips parted. the ache in your core began to hurt. your hips bucked and your thighs twitched. you didn’t know what you wanted. his hot, messy tongue. his long, powerful fingers. or his thick, hard cock. all you can utter is, “please.” please, anything.

immediately, he bows his head and licks a hot stripe from asshole to clit. he focuses more on your clit. he widens his tongue and uses his big hands to hook underneath your knees to press them into your chest. the wet slurps and hot puffs of air all over your messy pussy has you keening with uncontrollable twitches.

“ooh fuck, fuck, oh my god!” you grab onto his wide wrists, manicured nails digging into the skin for some stability. “fuck me. please, fuck me!”

when your voice gets all high pitched and whiny, simon knows it’s go-time. with one hand reaching down to expertly unbutton and slide down his slacks, he uses his other hand to spread your thighs open. your right foot rests on the window ledge. with the dim lighting and the rain pattering on the car roof, everything about this was romantic. simon lowers his head and gives your lips messy, hard kisses. all tongue. all teeth. heavy breathing and hushed moans. you tasted your slick and a hint of wine on his tongue. if that wasn’t the perfect combination, you didn’t know what was.

“you ready f’me?” his voice is so gruff and thick with lust. he taps the head of his leaking cock on your messy cunt. the lewd noises made you want to cover your face from embarrassment of how wet you are. “hm? ‘s this little cunt ready f’me to fuck her?” god, the things he says would be enough to make a deaf nun cry. but you didn’t care. you ached for him, everywhere.

“plea-please, si,” you weakly whimpered. your body was on fire and you were close to tears. wetness made your lashes clump and you sniffled softly. “need you. need it bad. need you.”

he tuts. he actually tuts. and the condescending smile he sends you makes you all the more embarrassed as your cunt leaked even more slick. “poor angel,” he croons and grins wolfishly. “poor, poor baby.”

and then finally, finally, he dips the head inside your pathetic little hole. and inch by inch, he slides in and then slides back out. he slides in again a little more and slides out again. the teasing torture was enough to make you start crying. simon’s arms wrapped around your trembling frame and he allows you to bury your face in his bare shoulders. you’re hugging his big, beefy body to yourself, your hands desperately holding onto his sides.

“i-i can’t ta-take it! fuck me, please, please, simon, please.” you’re babbling incoherently, sobbing softly into his skin and curling your toes as he grinds his cock up and down your cunt before finally sliding all the way in.

“there we go,” he coos in your ear. “there’s my girl.”

almost instantly, the sobbing stops and is replaced with garbled moans and punched gasps. your lips are open on his shoulder and drool slowly begins to seep out. you hug him closer as warmth explodes throughout your entire body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“‘m y’girl,” you can barely form a coherent sentence.

“that’s right,” simon huffs, now starting to work his hips faster against yours. “my good girl.”

his hips smack into yours, his thickness filling you repeatedly. over and over and over again. the lewd wet noises of your slick leaking onto his balls and maybe his thighs has your cheeks flaming up. simon pounds into you, forcing every moan out of your chest and spilling from your lips, no matter how bad you wanted to quiet them as you two were still in the car and anybody could pull up. everything felt so good. he starts speeding up his thrusts, now pounding into you at an alarming speed and causing you to scream hoarsely in the small space. and then he slows to a grinding halt.

“mm, mm, mm,” you whimpered in his shoulder, tears freely sliding down your cheeks from the excessive pleasure you're receiving with little kisses of pain.

simon hears your reaction and does it again, this time creating a rhythm. he’ll fuck into you at a high speed and then slow down. he feels your tits bouncing against his chest and the way your swollen clit is continuously bumping against his pelvis.

“yeah,” he grunts in your ear, tightening his arms around your non-stop shaking body. “fuckin’ take my fuckin’ cock.”

your eyes slowly cross as he slows again, only fucking you with deep, slow, grinding thrusts. you’re 100% sure you’re leaking onto the seat right now. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were. simon’s cock was heaven and hell. you were obsessed. addicted, even. it look a lot of practice for you to take every inch in the early stages of your relationship. he made sure to take his time training your cunt into swallowing his hardness. simon pulled up just enough to capture your lips in a hot, messy kiss. he grinds deep inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix deliciously. your hands desperately grasped the sides of his face, your tongue sloppily entering his mouth and circling around his.

“can’t get ‘nough of you” simon grumbles. he keeps kissing and kissing as he grinds his hips in slow, deep circles. “my wife is jus’ so fuckin’ needy, eh?” the subtle cockiness in his tone had your pussy clenching. he grins at that and pistons his hips, fast and hard and unrelenting.

“ah! ah! ah! aaah!” you squealed and scratched down his back. you’ve been on edge for however long. time was nonexistent and this was torture. you needed that final nudge. a certain thing that helped the rollercoaster of euphoria finally crash down from the tip of the hill. “n-need.. cum. need.. n-need to cu-um!” god, you probably sounded so pathetic.

simon grunts every time he delivers hard thrusts that would’ve made your entire body slide up the seat if it weren’t for his arms wrapped around you. your thighs twitched non-stop. your toes curled and repeatedly thumped against the window. clinging onto your husband, your moans start getting more high pitched and drawn out as you got closer and closer, but simon knew what you needed. he always knew what you need. he pulls back enough to direct his attention to your neglected clit, so puffy and swollen and glistening in your slick from having no attention paid to it. simon slows his hips again and grinds to a slow halt once more. his cock throbs as your walls twitched and tightened around him, eagerly sucking him deeper.

“you poor, poor girl,” he tuts, splaying a large hand over your tummy and humming pleased as he feels the bulge of his cock nestled deep inside. “jus’ need my thumb, eh?” with the first swipe, your nails dug deeper into his skin and your thighs nearly shut. and from that reaction, simon knew it was time to finally let his beautiful wife cum.

and for the last time, his hips smack against yours at a fast speed, pounding and fucking as if tonight was the end of the world and you two had to say goodbye to each other. when his thumb lays against your clit, rubbing circles at the same rhythm of his quick hips, the dam finally broke. your body forcibly arched and your head slides between the seat and the backseat window. simon forces your thighs to keep spread open and grunts into your throat as your pussy contracts around his cock. all of your moans kept spilling out - you couldn’t stop them even if you tried. it was like electricity was coursing through your body. the wave of euphoria crashed at an alarming speed and you’re sure you’re screaming, but it sounds like you’re underwater. simon was stunned, in all honesty, at how hard you came. and you just won’t stop.

“agh!” he grunts and pulls his thumb away from your overly sensitive clit. he instead wraps his arms back around your trembling body and does three good, hard thrusts before the knot tightened and tightened and he spills inside of you. he grinds deep and slow, making sure none is wasted and is settled thickly inside your womb.

heavy breathing and weak moans echo in the car. the heavy rain slowed to a gentle drizzle. your thighs couldn’t stop twitching. simon lowers his head and kisses your pulse point so very gently, humming pleased when you sign contently. he kisses the side of your face tenderly, tracing a line from your pulse, up to your soft jaw, and then your plushy cheek. your breathing finally slowed and you lift your head to look up at simon. a bead of sweat slid down his temple and you had half a mind to lick it away. the two of you look into each other’s eyes and there wasn’t a single thing that could make you look away. and there wasn’t a single thing that could ruin this moment. simon had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“d’you realize jus’ how much i love you?” he asks you quietly, head tilting to brush his strong nose against yours. “i would go to the ends of the earth f’you.”

at this whisper of a confession, you sniffle and let out a watery laugh, a lonesome tear sliding down your cheek that is quickly wiped away by his thumb. he leans down and hovers his lips over yours. you take the last step and curl your fingers into his hair to pull him down. when your lips touched, it felt like everything disappeared at that moment. the two of kissed and kissed until you needed air. and even though, you would take gulps of air and find his lips again. his cock was still snug deep inside. even soft, he still had some length and weight to him. but you loved this. it made you feel more connected to each other. the rain had stopped completely now. you both broke your kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting. simon lightly thumbs at your lip to wipe it away.

“now, lets get you home.”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader smut #simon ghost riley x reader smut #husband!simon

2K notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago

Note

Hey! I know you’ve been writing a lot of Bob and Void stuff, but do you write for Walker? I don’t k ow why, and maybe I’m a little odd for thinking this, but I would like him as my big brother figure. Prehaps I could request platonic hcs of him where he and reader act like siblings? Reader is chaotic sunshine and they get on each other’s nerves, but they do truly care for each other!! Bonus points for bits of Bob x reader x void hehe

I love Wyatt Russell (hate Walker tho) so I’ll make an exception for you anon. this might have more bob x reader x void then necessary. I think Walker would be an okay sibling at best.

Major PSA for idiots and dipshits: Also if you don’t wanna read the John and reader sibling dynamic, just skip to the Bob x reader x void section do the headcannons or don’t bother reading this, I’m not holding your hand when most of you are grown adults who are responsible for what you read. (Though I question that level of responsibility everyday the more I hear you moan about fuck all since you’ve got nothing else to do) so don’t blame me for what you consume. Grow up or continue to show your ass like you typically do.

you didn't like walker and you typically liked everyone and will always let it be known as whenever you were working on your aim, you'd intentionally aim for him much to Walker's annoyance.

'Can you stop shooting for me, for five mintues!' he exclaims as he looks at you as you only smiled innocently back at him.

'i don't know what your talking about.' you tell him 'i'm trying to shoot for you but you keep moving like an annoying cockroach that refuses to die.' you added as Yelena, who was stood next to you this entire time, tried to hold back a laugh but failed.

'i'm really feeling the love here team.' walker says sarcastically, lightly swatting your bicep in a repremending act, only to get a smack to his bicep in return.

'we love you too john!' you called after him as you looked back at Yelena as she looked at you with a knowing smile. 'what?' you asked her.

'you might not be family but you and john act like you could've been siblings in another life.' yelena says and you couldn't help but make a face. You were well aware that your relationship with US Agent was an odd one, you acted like you hated each other but the way it came across was more like siblings flipping each other off from the doorways of your own rooms.

which is something you both actually did do on the odd occasion, walking by the doorway of eachothers rooms within the Watchtower and flip each other off wordlessly, it didn't matter if you had company either, you'd still flip each other off regardless. much to the amuesment of the other Thunderbolts.

you both often get asked if you two were in fsct siblings, only for you and john to look at each other as though it was an insult as you both replied simultaneously with a ‘no.’ even if there were times where John did make sure you ate, drink and took proper care of yourself when he thought that you were neglecting yourself more then you should.

He’s even drag you out of the room if he felt that you were isolating yourself in there for his liking. I’m talking busting down your door and dragging you out by your legs as you kick and scream at him to let go, all the while he’s telling you to get out and socialise with the rest of the team instead of being a hermit/ bedroom gremlin. ‘Fuck off!’ You scream at John, ‘what if I want to stay in bed and do nothing.’

‘No can do, now go out with Yelena, Ava or Alexi and socialise and get some fresh air instead of suffocating in the stuffy air of your room for god sake.’ John replied as he shoved you towards Ava and Yelena as you shot him a look over your shoulder as you followed your favourite teammates. ‘Have fun!’ He sarcastically waves at you while you only show him your middle finger. ‘Kids.’ He mutters under his breath as Alexi pats him on the shoulder ‘you’re a good older brother.’ He tells John as the dirty blonde waves it off.

He didn’t think he was fit to be an older brother figure, but you brought that side out of him with how easily it was to annoy one another, he still remembered when you took his helmet and gun and painted them a glittery pick mess. He couldn’t complain at the time as the mission was integral, but he did indeed give you a mouthful afterwards about touching his stuff and fucking with them.

John swears you give him a headache almost on the daily but he’s certain that he does your head in too. So the feeling was mutual as far as he was aware.

Yet you do have moments where the care you had for one another comes through on missions as you two were usually paired up together and the protectiveness came out when the other was in close proximity to danger. You’d shove John out the line of fire, he would shove you behind him when he saw someone aiming for you, shielding you both when they open fired on you both.

Your care for each other was silent but it was there in the small acts you do for one another in a rare moment of reminding that while you acted like you couldn’t stand each other, you were there for one another regardless of the shit you’ve both done.

BOB X READER X VOID

Now when you met Bob, you found him to be cute, slightly clumsy and awkward but in an endearing way that made you want to know him more, his puppy dog eyes didn’t help make matters better as you as you were quick to find yourself spending more time with Bob and ultimately catching feelings for him.

He was meek and barely meet your eyes half of the time when you talked to him, but yet he seemed to stay with you in comparison to the rest of the group, always shoulder to shoulder to you and sharing smiles with you from across the room as butterflies fluttered within your stomach.

‘What’s your name.’ You asked.

‘Bob.’ Bob replies with a small smile, a cute smile you’d determine as you noted how small he tried to make himself look despite his tall and strong stature. There was more to him then you could see clearly, you could tell that this man was of great importance that you assumed that even Bob himself wasn’t aware of just yet.

‘We’ll get along just fine Bob.’ You tell him as he made a face similar to that of a confused puppy, a handsome cute man that you could already tell you’d get dangerously attached towards within embarrassingly short time. ‘How’d you know that?’ He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. ‘Call it a hunch but I just think we’ll work well together.’

‘I’ll trust your hunch then.’ Bob says with a smile and you knew immediately that you were fucked, he was even pretty when he smiled too with how his eyes shined and how his poetically radiated warmth and comfort that you wanted to bask yourself in forever.

Bob would find himself trusting himself within your presence more than others on the team, even going so far as you reach out and grab your hand in his and audible sigh at the touch, having gone without it for longer then he could remember. So needless to say you had become his primary person to look out for him, or just be there for him when the others went on missions and needed someone to be there with Bob until they get back.

You didn’t care as it meant you got to spend all the time possible with him as you made sure that when you were cooped up in the watch tower you would make sure that you and Bob were having fun however you could. Whether that be trying -and failing- to get into baking some cookies or watch tv together where characters make questionable decisions and Bob got to be highly amused by how annoyed you’d get when someone does something stupid.

Sometimes it got so bad to the point where he’d have to stop you from doing something rash as you ate half burnt cookies in a rather aggressive manner as you scowled at the television. It was a highlight for Bob as he got to be with you and experience all of you in your entirety. Only to end up finding himself falling more and more for you yet still being hesitant in calling the deep feelings he had for you as love or like.

So Bob takes his time with you and learns just as much about himself as he does learn about you in the process the longer he got to know and like every single part of you the more quality time you both shared without the rest of the Thunderbolts ruining it with their loud selves.

Void was equally intruded by you as much as Bob was and while he didn’t come out as often, he still was there within Bob as he got to go out with you on small trips together, or simply spending moments together in the watchtower.

He’s aware of all the moments shared between you and Bob and decided that he wanted that too, and to be selfish and more forward then meek, awkward Bob was about his own feelings that were now fully developed. Void understood what it was that he felt towards you and didn’t need anymore time to dissect and digest it, for whatever he wanted he would get sooner or later.

So don’t be surprised when you thought you were sharing a moment with Bob, only to be met with the pinprick eyes of Void as the entity merely chuckles at your look of surprise as he walks through your room as though he’s done it many times before.

‘Don’t look so surprise little bird.’ He tells you, his voice more confident and fuller then bob’s second guessing one, as though he wasn’t confident in using his own voice never less recognise it as if own, whereas void was fully aware of who he was and didn’t need to second guess himself when everything he did was absolute and precise.

‘You shouldn’t wear that face with me, when you look at Bob as though your moments away from grabbing him and kissing him at least.’ Void adds as you looked at him as he admired the photos you’ve took of yourself and fellow thunderbolt teammates and Bob.

Now with void you were a little more conflicted on how you felt towards the shadowy entity who could make people into shadows with a wave of his hand, a powerful being whom you’ve came across on occasions but he never did anything for you to detest him, only ever caress your cheeks and standing rather close to you for whatever talk to be considered casual.

He was bolder than Bob in what he wanted as void had kissed the back of your hand, drawn you close to him and even held you on rare occasions that you still think about at night, occupying your thoughts as you were conflicted on how to feel about void after what Bob had told you about feeling this endless darkness within him. One that only got worse when you were near him, as though it wanted to greet you personally.

Yet you couldn’t help but find Void charismatic and intriguing as the more you got to see him, which was mainly when you and Bob was alone or when everyone was asleep at night. He was dangerous and you knew that well enough to be cautious towards him but yet at the same time you couldn’t help but be drawn to Void whenever you do get to talk to him.

‘Where’s my kiss little bird? Am I not deserving of one unlike your precious Bob? Hmm?’ Void asks as he stepped close to you, his pinprick eyes looking deep into your own as your forced to admit that they were beautiful in their own right, in their own unique and unsettlingly way but beautiful nonetheless.

You would respond but you didn’t get the chance to becuase as soon as you blinked Bob was back in front of you, leaving you to process what had just happened just moments prior while Bob only looked at you in concern.

‘Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you did he?’ He’d ask as he placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes for anything that could give away to him if void did anything or not.

‘No, he didn’t.’ You replied to calm his nerves as he pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back as you gripped him tight, not truly grasping what you had gotten yourself into.

168 notes · View notes