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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 months ago

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Guardian Angel

CW: Stalking, people breaking into your apartment (Arkham Knight and others), people brushing off an obvious issue, and violence. Be warned, there are no angels in Gotham. ~2.2k words

You have a stalker. Probably. Maybe. If you do, they're so good at covering their tracks that you're starting to believe you're just paranoid.

But it's the odd events, the trinkets moved slightly out of place, that have you checking over your shoulder.

There wasn't even any evidence at first. Your day had been completely normal. All you were doing was cooking dinner, when your nerves went on end, and goosebumps rose on your skin. The feeling of being watched, of being prey set in.

It didn't make sense, didn't have a reason, but you closed your curtains and triple checked your locks nonetheless. (The bat you keep by your bed slept next to you that night)

You would have forgotten about the incident entirely if, a week later, the same feeling crept up your spine while you walked home. You'd never walked faster to get to your building. You'd practically sprinted up the stairs to your apartment, and slammed to the door behind you.

Even within your home, it took almost the whole night for the feeling to fade.

Two times could be a coincidence, but then things started getting stranger.

You could have sworn you left your keys on the counter the night before, so why, why did you find them on the coffee table?

It makes you uneasy, almost sick, but you're already late to work. So you do the only thing you can, you brush it off.

Until it happens. A thing you can't brush off.

You knew you had used the last of the sugar yesterday. Knew it because you had made a mental note to pick some up the next time you went to the store.

But there's sugar. It's not a lot. Just enough to get you through a few days. Enough to make you think you might have just missed the last of it.

You know you're right. You know you were out of sugar and even if your coworkers laugh and tell you to get more sleep, that having an angel that refills your sugar can't be that bad, you know someone's been in your apartment.

You set traps, set cameras, get your locks changed, take note of everything. You don't get any evidence.

But you notice that your window doesn't squeak anymore when you open it. Your shower doesn't rattle when you go to start it. Your oven actually heats up to the temperature you set it to.

It's been like this for months now. And you're starting to believe that Gotham does have its own set of angels that go around trying to make your life a little easier.

That is until, you meet him.

You'd been unlucky. Gotten grabbed and dragged into the alley by your apartment by some haggard looking man waving a gun. It wasn't the first time you'd been mugged in Gotham, and you doubted it would be the last.

You had reluctantly pulled your wallet and phone out of your pockets and handed them off when an armored-clad person dropped between the gun and you.

At first, it was a relief. Being saved by Batman or Nightwing is practically a rite of passage in Gotham.

But then you watched the would-be mugger hit the ground with a sickening crunch of his arm. Then you watched your savior turn to face you, and you knew it was him.

You didn't have an explanation, you didn't have proof. You'd never even seen a glimpse of the helmet that hid his face before. But you knew. He's the one that's been following you. He's the one that's been in your home.

No amount of good deeds can overshadow how violating it feels, to know he's been watching you, observing you, doing things for you. You instinctively step back.

He only matches the distance you tried to create with a step of his own.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap, sounding braver than you feel.

He doesn't answer at first, just tilts his head like he's studying you. You think it might be because he's never seen you think close before.

"I saved you," he says instead, completely avoiding your question. You wonder if he's expecting to be treated like a hero, if he's looking for your praise. It makes your stomach churn.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," You protest, eyes darting.

You half expect someone to come help you. With the way he's dressed, with how he's carrying himself, he has to be some kind of new villian you missed on the news.

He straightens out at your accusation, "Have I?"

You almost falter, almost do chalk it up to paranoia, but you just knew. Every fiber of your being knows, "Yes," You breathe out instead, "You have."

He nods slowly, then turns his back to you. A part of you wants to run, to try and escape and scream and get as far away from the man who feels like he could make you disappear without a trace.

He bends down and scoops up your phone and wallet before turning back to you. You freeze when he walks closer, each step steady and measured, then extends your belongings to you. Your hand shakes when you snatch at them.

You half expect him to yank them away, to make you beg, but he doesn't. He only keeps his grip tight on them, forcing you to be connected while you tug helpless at your things.

He watches you with his head slightly cocked before speaking again, "And if I have?"

He's easy, robotic cadence makes your blood grow cold, "Then you should stop," You retort, voice as cold as your veins.

"And if I won't," he prompts, finally releasing his hold on your things.

"I'll go to the police," You threaten, stuffing your wallet and phone back into your pockets.

"They can't help you," he warns. It makes you uneasy, that he makes no attempt to keep space between you. Even if his body language doesn't seem dangerous, everything else about him does.

"They can contact Batman," You try instead.

He laughs. It sounds humorless, empty, "He can't help you either."

You lose your nerve then, when he pats your cheek, and the guns holstered to his side seem to glint at you. "Get home," he tells you, and it makes you feel like you're some kind of pet.

And then he's gone, leaving you to an alley empty of anything, save for you and the mugger crumpled to the ground. All you can do is go home. Sleep doesn't come for you that night.

He's sloppy, now that he knows you know. You can tell it's on purpose.

Flashes of glowing blue outside your window, your things carelessly shifted about your apartment, the broken fan that hasn't worked since you moved in left on and spinning when you come home from work.

The only place he hasn't seemed to touch is your bedroom. You're not sure if it's because he's showing some slightest form of respect or if he's simply too good at hiding his tracks for you to notice.

Both options make you feel anxious, and you constantly comb over your things for proof of his presence.

You rack your brain over it, lose sleep over it, but you can't come up with one idea of who he is and why he's doing this.

There's nothing on him in the news, nothing on the internet, not even a whisper on the streets.

It feels like it's all one big, sick game to him when your favorite flowers start showing up at your door, when your gas tank fills itself.

When you tell your coworkers, in a near panic, about your rent being mysteriously paid, they tell you it's harmless, it's kind of sweet, really.

Shouldn't you just be grateful that someone's doing all that for you? Shouldn't you be thankful to have an angel looking out for you in this city?

But you know it's not harmless. You know he's capable of so much more. You know he's no angel.

The sound of the mugger's arm snapping still haunts you.

But you don't know what to do. You're stuck, on edge, and slowly coming to terms with having to live like this forever.

That is, until your bad luck seems to get even worse. You were in your pajamas, already half asleep as you're lounging on your couch, when your world gets thrown into chaos.

There's a click in your apartment door's lock, and you have the terrifying realization that tonight's the one night you'd forgotten to throw the deadbolt.

"I told ya I could get the keys to this floor. And barely anybody lives in this building afta what happen ta Murphy," the heavy Gotham accent fills your apartment and three men file into your living room like they own it.

They freeze when they see you, and you don't hesitate to sprint for your fire escape.

You've just managed to throw your window open when one of them grabs you around the middle and hauls you back, throwing you to the floor. Your head knocks against the ground, and everything spins.

You think you whimper as they start bickering. "You said no one would be here!"

"They weren't supposed ta be! It's all supposed ta be empty," one of them snaps back. It only makes your head pound and your vision swim.

You try to push yourself off the floor, but a boot lands at the center of your back and forces you back to the ground, "We have to kill them."

Murmurs of reluctance fill the room, and for a second, you think you'll get to live.

"They saw our faces," You hear the telltale sound of a gun clicking off its safety, "I'll do it."

You flinch with the shot sounds, but no more pain comes. The weight comes off your back, and a body collapses to the floor next to you.

You lift your head just enough to see a familiar blur of blue charge at the remaining two men.

It's not so much of a fight as it is an execution. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but anything you can't see you can hear.

There's no mercy in his actions, all wrath and fury, and you want to laugh because, in a way, he is your guardian angel. An avenging angel, pummeling the people who threatened you into something unrecognizable.

You're sure how long it lasts, how long you hear his fists connect to their flesh. But eventually, your apartment goes quiet. The sound of fabric shuffling reaches your ears, and calloused hands carefully help you move until you're sitting up.

Warm palms press to your face you realize he's taken his gloves off. You force your eyes to open, morbidly curious if he's removed his helmet, too. You're not sure why you're disappointed he hasn't.

"Saved me again," You mumble, words almost slurring.

"You're not safe here," he says softly, and his thumb runs over your cheek like he's trying to comfort you.

"They didn't think anyone lived here," You supply, but he apparently doesn't find that very reassuring.

"Let's get you out here," he says instead, and you blame it on your head injury for being impressed at how he doesn't show any signs of struggling when he picks you up and cradles you to his chest.

"Don't have anywhere to go," you say weakly, mentally trying to do the math on how much a safe hotel would cost at this time of night.

The moonlight seems to give his helmet an odd shine as you stare hazily at him. It almost looks like a halo.

"I have a place," he tells you, already carrying you out of your apartment window.

That snaps you out of your thoughts. It makes you frown, even in your dazed state, you know you don't want to go with him. That even with the trick of the light, he's no angel.

You start to squirm, "No– no, wait–"

"You need somewhere safe to recover," he says, and he doesn't seem to notice your fidgeting. Your heart leaps to your throat, at how securely he's holding you. With anyone else, it would have felt like a promise of protection.

"I don't trust you, you're not safe," You stumble out, head growing heavy with each step he takes from your apartment.

"No one's safe. But I don't have any plans on hurting you," he murmurs, seemingly more occupied with getting you to wherever he's planning to take you.

"But you could," You exhale out, and your voice sounds weak even to yourself.

That makes him pause, and his helmet tips as if he's focusing on you, "Maybe, but I wouldn't like it."

You want to argue more, demand he set you down. But your brain feels so foggy, and you're so tired and drained that your head just kind of finds itself on his shoulder.

"You can sleep," he says, and your eyes fall shut at how soft he sounds, "I'll keep watch."

You really do want to protest, but his shoulder is surprisingly comfortable. You can't help but think, as you drift off, that your angel might have fallen far lower than you can handle.

#arkham knight x reader #is this an unofficial prequel to a gilded cage? I do not know #jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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esouliie · 5 months ago

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everything comes out, teenage petulance ⋆⟡˖

– synopsis | someone from wanda’s past interrupts your saturday morning and you’re not happy about it. wanda, however…

– warnings | angst, hurt/comfort, age gap couple, reader is younger & inexperienced and with that comes✨ emotional immaturity✨ but wanda is *chefs kiss* at giving reassurance :3

– notes | not proof read but the writing is rough!!! but but but i tried to write the inexperienced reader in an age gap relationship with the concept of conflicting emotional maturity… and i hate it lol, the dialogue sucks ass :/ i wish i could write reader with better petulant teenager energy!

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and the soft hum of Wanda moving about the kitchen. Saturdays with her are your favorite, a break from the routine of the week. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Wanda's voice floated in from the other room.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," her tone gentle and affectionate. "I've made us some coffee."

You stretched and yawned, making your way to the kitchen where Wanda stood by the counter, her eyes twinkling as she hands you a mug. You took a sip, savoring the rich flavor of your favourite Colombian blend, overloaded with the insurmountable amount of sugar and cream she put in. Usually, she complains about how you take your coffee - constantly complaining how your daily sugar intake was enough to knock out an elephant - but she knew you wouldn’t drink coffee any other way.

And you needed coffee.

"Thanks, Wands," you mumbled as you smiled up at her, noticing her nose scrunch as she mimicked your smile. She's a few years older than you, and she wore it with pride. She was confident in herself, there was never a time she felt insecure about her age, and the most emotionally intelligent person you’ve ever met. In the beginning of your relationship, all of your “arguments” ended with healthy communication from Wanda’s side whereas you’d close up like a clam, refusing to talk or fight or even run away. You’d just switch off. And so, her maturity and confidence used to make you feel a bit self-conscious. But every day was better, because you have an excellent teacher who loves you endlessly.

You and all your emotional problems.

"Ready for our walk?" she asked, reaching for the leash. "Lucky's been waiting all week."

You nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. Let's go."

You both had been watching Lucky for the past couple weeks. Your bestfriend - Kate Bishop - had recently gone to Russia to visit her girlfriend’s parents. You were all for it, an exciting buzz had followed you the whole upcoming week. Wanda was a bit unsure at first, having never owned a dog, she wasn’t sure how to take care of it, but you reassured you had enough experience for the both of you.

The park was just a short walk from your house, and as you stepped outside, the crisp morning air filled your lungs. Lucky, the exuberant golden retriever, darted ahead, his tail wagging furiously, but never too far away from you both. The park was alive with people and their pets, the sound of laughter and conversation mingling with birdsong. Children ran across the grass, their gleeful shouts echoing through the trees.

Wanda took your hand, her fingers warm against yours. "It's such a beautiful day," she said, her eyes scanning the park. "Perfect for a walk."

This week had been especially busy for both of you. Wanda had been tirelessly working as the director of her own gallery, a lifelong dream that she had finally realised after months of dedication and effort. Meanwhile, you were preparing for your finals, which meant spending countless hours holed up in the library or Wanda's home office. As a result, the past few days you had seen very little of each other, making the rare moments like this morning even more precious.

You hummed in agreement and squeeze her hand, feeling a rush of affection for the blonde. “Here! You take this!” She offered, handing you Lucky’s ball in exchange for his lead.

Just then, before you could run off to play fetch, someone called out, "Wanda!" Her grip on your hand immediately loosened, and she dropped it, stepping a few steps away. You turned to see an older man - his mousy brown hair styled neatly with a suit jacket over his arm - approaching with a skip in his step.

There was no ring on his finger.

"Wanda, is that really you?" he asked, a broad smile spreading across his face , showing a bit too much teeth for you, as he hugged her warmly. You almost rolled your eyes as they rocked side to side in their embrace, shared laughter floating between them.

As fucking if.

“Vis! It’s been ages.” Wanda is the first to pull away, and yet her arms are still wrapped around his biceps. Your eye twitched as you notice her brush her fingers along the stretched fabric.

You stood there awkwardly. The pair fell into easy conversation as if they were ex lovers or something, and you waited for an introduction that never came. Their voices became a distant murmur as you drifted away from the conversation, your attention returning to Lucky, who was no longer by your side, and who was dangerously close to the pond, trying to reach the ducks with his snout.

“Lucky! Leave the ducks alone!” You called, grabbing his lead from Wanda’s, albeit loose grip, hurrying over towards the dog who was either ignoring you or hyper-fixated on reaching those ducks.

You’re not sure what happened next. You either spooked Lucky out of his trance or he really was being an ass today, but as soon as you got close enough to clip his lead to his collar, he spun on his back legs, knocking into you and zooming away. You stumbled, your balance slipping as you flailed to stay upright. With a yelp, you tumbled down, your body hitting the muddy bank. Your leg splashed into the water, soaking your entire leg. Wet and cold, you scrambled to stand up but a sharp pain shooting through your ankle had you sinking back on to the bank, before you managed to pick yourself up on your good leg. Tears from the pain and embarrassment blurred your vision as you looked down at the state of you. Your pretty dress Wanda had picked out for you this morning was coated in mud and all sorts of dirt. You watched in grimace as pond water dripped out of your shoe as you moved away from the scene of the crime.

Remembering you weren’t alone, and your girlfriend had probably seen the dog wipe you out, you searched for Wanda, only to find her still with her “old friend.” In fact, they seem to have moved over towards a spare bench as you noticed how close they were sat next to each other. Turned towards one another, their arms were basically brushing. Wanda had laughed at something Vis had said as she threw her head back, almost falling backwards until he grabbed onto her, pulling her closer towards him.

The sight made your stomach churn. Anger swirled in a violent revenge inside, and yet, it was sadness that slipped down your face. You felt a burning sensation in your chest and a lump forming in your throat.

All you wanted to do was go home.

A mother and her young daughter who had watched you fall made their way over to you, the question already posed in the way she looked at you. “Are you alright?”

Your teary eyes shifted back to the bench. Still lost in conversation, you watched and waited, wondering what it was they were talking about, wondering if she had even noticed you’re hurt.

But it’s clear she hadn’t seen you fall… or maybe she just forgot you were even here.

“I’m fine.” You replied, but your eyes deceived you.

The woman followed your gaze, “Oh! Are they your parents?”

You scoffed but there wasn’t any bite to it, and fresh tears rolled off your face, “No.”

You began to hobble forward, in search of Lucky but the stranger was one step ahead of you. She grabbed onto your arm, claiming you shouldn’t put your weight on your injured ankle, as she sent her daughter ahead looking for Lucky. She found him in no time, on the other side of the pond, no longer trying to reach the ducks but sat watching them.

You called for him, and without a fuss, he came. You clipped him to his lead, as he stared up at you curiously. He seemed to sense your distress and was suddenly still, looking up at you with a sorrowful expression, as if he understood the part he had played in this. Before you could return to full height, he leaned his head into yours. His actions saying a thousand words, and you couldn’t help but smile at the pup, giving him a little scratch. “It’s okay, bud. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Meeting the concerned mother’s gaze, you pointed towards Wanda, “I’m just gonna…” You trailed off but she understood, turning away with a genuine “get well soon”, instructions to ice your ankle as soon as you get home, and her daughter in hand. With that, she turned in the opposite direction, heading back towards where you fell.

You walked in the other direction, deciding to go around Wanda. You didn’t want to see her right now. Noticing the park exit in sight, Lucky dragged on his lead, trying to turn back the way you came.

“No, Lucky. We’re going home.” You ushered him through the gates, “She can stay here with him.”

A shout caught your attention. Behind you, Wanda was walking - almost running - towards you. The man was nowhere in sight. “Y/N! Where did you go? Why are you leaving?” You noticed a tinge of frustration in her voice, but that was dropped as soon as she took in your soaked state. “What happened?”

“Oh so you did remember I was here.” With that, you turned and walked away as fast as your ankle would let you.

“What-?” You heard Wanda struggle for words behind you before she caught up, her hand grabbing your cold, still - damp arm. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“You would know if you weren’t so impressed by your boyfriend back there.” You spat, shrugging off any hold she had on you.

She grabbed your arm again, firmer this time. “He’s not my boyfriend. His name’s Vision. We went to school together. I haven’t seen him in years.”

Her tone remained the same soft melody, despite the obvious frustration earlier.

You remained silent, scoffing in reply, as you tried to walk away, but she stopped you again, turning you around to face her.

Her warm hands held your cheeks, forcing you to make eye contact. “Hey, what’s really wrong?”

Her gaze softened, concern evident, and you felt tears pooling again as you fought within yourself, torn between letting go of your anger or clinging to it like petulant teenager.

“Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You forgot about me,” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your face. She wiped at them and a hum encouraged you to continue.

“You dropped my hand, and was talking to that guy so much, you didn’t even know I was still there. Lucky was acting up, so I went to get him, and I fell in the pond. My ankle really hurts, I think I sprained it, and I’ve ruined my dress and—” A sharp sob cut you off as your emotions overwhelmed.

Sensing your distress, Wanda pulled you into her arms. “It’s okay, baby,” she consoled softly, her voice remaining gentle and soothing.

Being in Wanda's arms usually helped you calm down. The warmth of her embrace and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed steadily would bring you a sense of peace. You would listen to her heartbeat, syncing your breath to its comforting rhythm, as her presence soothe your worries away.

However your anger surged, unable to latch onto a single thing as it flailed wildly. You pushed back against her chest, but she didn’t let go. "No, don't baby me! You forgot about me! I fell into a pond, and you weren't even there to help. A stranger did, Wanda. A fucking stranger cared more about me than my own girlfriend because she was too busy with some fucking guy!"

Her grip tightened slightly as she whispered, a juxtaposed effort to your loud volume, “I know, and I’m so sorry.” But you were too upset to care, your hurt and frustration drowning out her words of apology. You tried to close down on yourself, shielding away from the pain.

“Wanda, let go of me,” you said, hands pushing against her as your voice trembled with the effort to hold back the flood of emotions.

“No,” Wanda replied firmly, her eyes searching yours. “Tell me how you feel.”

“I already told you! ” Her persistence had you shouting again, the walls you were trying to build around your heart crumbled. Tears welled up in your eyes as your throat closed up as you started to sob uncontrollably. Frantic images of Wanda on the bench with the man flashed through your mind, tormenting you. You wiped at your face desperately, but the tears kept coming, a torrent of pain, betrayal and immeasurable grief.

“You acted like I didn’t exist,” you choked out between sobs. “It was like you were ashamed of me.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be your response. “I’m not ashamed of you.” She said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know why I dropped your hand or why I didn’t introduce you as my girlfriend. It was a mistake and I’m so sorry.” Her own tears began to pool, her sorrow evident.

“I could never be ashamed of you, Y/N.”

She pulled you into a tight embrace, tears falling on top of your head as she whispered a few more apologies, and a promise to do better, to never make you feel invisible again or doubt her love for you.

“I want to go home.” You whispered, with a defeated energy.

Wanda remained unconvinced, though she understood your struggle. She had been tirelessly encouraging you to be more open about your feelings, and she had seen you make significant progress. However, she knew that progress wasn’t linear. Despite your improvements since you first started dating, she anticipated the occasional bad day. Recognising that this conversation wasn't suited for a public setting, Wanda shifted the focus. “I think Lucky does too,” she said softly, nodding towards the enthusiastic dog at your side.

You followed her gaze to Lucky, who was wagging his tail so energetically - despite the tense conversation he had just been present in- it seemed he might take off at any moment. “Okay, boy. Let’s go,” you said, giving him the command he was eagerly awaiting.

As the golden retriever began to trot down the street, you turned to the older woman. “I’m sorry, Wands.” The weight of those few words lingered in the air, before you felt a gentle squeeze on your hand as Wanda had intertwined her fingers with yours, her grip reassuring and steadfast. “I know. I’m sorry too.”

She didn't let go the entire way, and once again, her presence was a silent promise of growth, support and understanding as you made your way home together.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff

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amorebeaute2012 · 2 years ago

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madamecaos · 9 months ago

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Angst/Comfort

(Not proof-read sorry)

Where Simon hurts you and makes up for it.

————————

“Just one more kiss, pretty girl,” Simon mumbled against the plush of your trembling thighs. He planted a slow and wet kiss on your clit, making you shiver at the overstimulation.

He had been at it all night.

Your whines at his lack of attention had given him an attitude. The files before deployment wouldn’t sign themselves, and you wanted to spend the little time you had together doing something couply.

In return, he answered in displeased huffs at your lack of understanding. That this was his job.

When you mentioned that he had agreed to a simple shopping trip beforehand, he exploded in frustration and anger. All directed at you, at your clinginess.

How you weren’t a little girl anymore, that he was not responsible for.

Instead of the expected denial or angry rebuttal, you went quiet. You allowed him to finish his job as you hid in your shared bedroom. In the rising pile of work, he didn’t notice.

Finally, standing up with a giant stretch, Simon realized the silence in his usual boisterous shared flat.

He asked for your name and no answer was given.

The apartment was dark, inhabited. Or so he thought, until he saw a still lump beneath his bedsheets. For a second he thought you were sleeping, retreating back to close the door behind him.

Until he saw you shake, a motion accompanied by a sniffle.

Simon sighed, head bent down at his inadequacy. He was often the monster that made you cry the most.

“Hey,” he cooed, settling behind you, brushing your hair as he called for your attention. You refused to look back at him, pretending to be asleep. “I’m done now. How about that shopping expedition, hm?”

You shuddered, holding in the sobs at his new compliance.

“Hey…” he tried again, yet not finishing the sentence already suspecting which words of his afflicted her.

Not very vocal, Simon laid down beside her then hugged his arms around her midsection, dragging her towards him in a cuddle.

You sniffled again, trying to muffle the sounds with your pillow.

“I… I didn’t mean what I said,” he started, tentatively petting her arm. “You’re not clingy. In fact, I think is the opposite.”

At that confession, you looked sideways, opting to stare him from your peripheral. Not ready to face him.

“I think about you so much, love. Enough to fuck up in missions. Enough for Price to send me home with a mount load of paperwork just because I was missing you.”

“Really?” You asked meekly, voice raw.

“It was the only option where I could see you… and I mucked it up.”

You rolled over slowly, still in his arms. Now facing each other in the low light bleeding through your sheer curtains.

“But you’re right,” you started, eyes watering and unable to look at his. “I’m not a little girl, you shouldn’t be made responsible for-“

“No.” He cut you off severely, decided. “You’re my girl. Little, big, fun size, whatever. You’re my girl.”

He grasped your cheeks between his palms, thumbs brushing away the tears.

“And it’s my responsibility to take care you. It’s a choice I made and I stand by it. Your needs are my needs… and your tears are my tears,” he flickered another tear away from your waterline. “And I made you cry because you wanted to spend time with me… and said those foul things in anger.”

He finished the sentence in a whisper, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So, allow me take care of you, hmm?”

The gentle kisses on your forehead drifted over tenderly to your temple. Down to your wet cheeks, then your trembling lips.

Suddenly, with a little more urgency, he whispered against your mouth the words that had you trembling minutes later beneath his torturing tongue.

“Let me make you forget what I said.”

An hour later, after he removed every single item of your clothing, down to the socks of your feet, you laid back with your legs spread wide. A man easily twice your size suckling sloppily at your clit, caressing its hood with his placid tongue.

By the fourth orgasm, as your eyes closed drowsily, you certainly had forgotten any ill words directed at you.

#cod simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod smut #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod modern warfare

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mattsmunch · 1 month ago

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── ⋆｡𖦹 !　close to you - c.s

✎: "i've got you. just relax and let me take care of you."

ᝰ.ᐟ WC: 2.4k

⚠︎: SMUT!, oral (m! receiving), needysub!chris x softdom!reader, PETNAMES (ma/mama, baby, good boy, i think that’s all!)

⟢ REQUESTED?: yes! in this ask.

⟢ AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DO NOT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. NOT proof read, sorry for any typos :,)

ᝰ.ᐟ

the dim sunlight gently caressed your features as you slowly awoke from your slumber. a soft breeze drifted in from the open window, causing the sheer curtains to sway gently. the sweet sound of mourning doves singing filled the air, adding a peaceful ambiance to the early morning. Chris shifted his body, snuggling even closer to your side while still half asleep, seeking the warmth and comfort of your presence.

you instinctively reached out to gently run your fingers through Chris's hair, the strands soft and slightly rumpled from sleep. as you carded through his locks, you found yourself mumbling sweet nothings to him in a soft, quiet voice, the words falling as gently as the sunlight that bathed his face. "good morning, sleepyhead," you whispered, your touch light and tender.

Chris stirred slightly at your touch and gentle voice, his sleepy eyes squinting open to meet your gaze. a small, contented smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he basked in the morning light and the soothing feel of your fingers in his hair. "mmm, morning," he mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep, as he shifted slightly to get even closer to you. "ya’ know i love it when you do this."

a soft smile played on your lips at his words, your fingers continuing their gentle caress through his hair. "i know," you replied in a soft, affectionate tone, your eyes crinkling at the edges as you took in his rumpled, sleepy appearance. "i can't help it, you look so peaceful when you sleep."

Chris let out a contented hum, his eyes slipping closed again as he surrendered to the soothing sensation of your touch. "keep doing that," he murmured, his voice still laced with sleep. "it feels good." He shifted a little closer, his body subconsciously seeking more closeness.

as you continued to run your fingers through Chris's hair, his hips began to rock involuntarily against the bare skin of your thighs, the movements small and almost involuntarily. you felt a slight increase in tension in his body as he unconsciously sought more contact and friction, the soft hum of pleasure escaping his lips blending in with the morning sounds.

his eyes remained closed, his breaths becoming a little ragged as he surrendered to the pleasure of your touch and the sensation of his hips seeking out yours. he shifted a little, his body language becoming more needy as he silently asked for more, his hips continuing to press against your thighs.

as Chris's hips continued their needy, rhythmic rocking against your thighs, you couldn't help but feel a slight pang of amusement mixed with desire. you stopped the movement of your fingers through his hair and lowered your voice to a playful tone. "what are you doing?" you asked, a slight smirk on your lips, fully well knowing what was happening.

Chris's eyes fluttered open at your question, his hips stilling for a moment as he gazed at you, a mixture of sheepishness and want in his expression. He shifted a little, his cheeks flushing slightly. "i... i dunno," he mumbled, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "i can't help it. it just feels good, being close to you."

His body confirmed his words as his hips began to move again, gently rocking against you, seeking that delicious friction. he let out a small, needy whimper, his eyes locking with yours, a mixture of need and desire mirrored in their depths.

as Chris continued to rock his hips against you, his body silently begging for more, you couldn't help but melt at his needy behavior. You resumed your gentle caresses through his hair and spoke in a soothing, mothering tone. "'s alright, baby," you murmured, a hint of affection in your voice. "i've got you. just relax and let me take care of you."

Chris lets out a shuddering breath at your words, his eyes fluttering shut once more as he sinks into the sensations of your touch and the comforting sound of your voice. his hips continue their slow, needy rocking against your thigh, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through his body.

he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as he presses himself closer to you. a low moan escapes his lips as he grinds against you, his body trembling slightly with need. “mmnph... mama...” he whimpers softly, the endearment slipping out unbidden as he loses himself in the haze of pleasure and desire.

his hands come up to grip your waist, holding onto you tightly as if afraid you might disappear.

your heart swelled with affection as Chris clung to you, his body trembling with need. your hand moved from his hair to stroke down his back, soothingly rubbing circles over his tense muscles. you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his jawline before whispering in his ear. "do you want me to make you feel better, baby?"

at your words, Chris let out a strangled noise, his hips grinding harder against your thigh. "yes!... please..." he breathed out, his voice desperate and pleading. He turned his head to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue darting out to taste you.

Chris's kiss was hungry and demanding, his tongue tangling with yours as he poured all his pent-up desire into the embrace. you could taste the sleepiness lingering on his breath, mixing with the growing arousal.

breaking the kiss, Chris looked at you with lust-clouded eyes, his chest heaving. "need you mama," he said simply, his voice rough with want. his hands slid down to grab your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he grinds his hardening cock against you.

your own arousal spiked at Chris's bold touch, his greedy hands on your curves igniting a fire within you. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you captured his lips in another sloppy kiss.

your tongues danced, stroking and twining together in a sensual duel. Chris's fingers dug into your ass, kneading the supple flesh as he humped against you with increasing urgency.

breathing heavily, you broke the kiss, both of you panting as you gazed into each other's eyes. the raw hunger and need reflected back at you only fueled your own desire.

Chris's breathing grew heavier as he gazed at you with pure, unadulterated lust. "wan’ you so bad, ma," he panted, his voice strained with need. his hands slid under your- his, shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your back before moving to cup your breasts. he squeezed them roughly, tweaking your nipples between his fingers until they hardened under his touch.

"please..." he whimpered, his hips bucking frantically against you now, his hard length straining against his boxers. "need you to touch me. want your hands on me."

his desperation was palpable, his entire body trembling with the force of his arousal. he needed you, craved your touch like a man starved.

"shhh, i got you baby," you cooed softly, running your fingers through Chris's hair in a soothing gesture. "gonna take care of you." you pressed tender kisses along his jawline and down his neck, feeling him shiver beneath your touch.

your hands slid down his chest, tracing the defined lines of his torso before hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. slowly, teasingly, you tugged them down, revealing inch after delicious inch of his hard, throbbing cock.

"you're so pretty, baby," you purred appreciatively, wrapping your hand around his shaft and giving him a few slow pumps. "i love seeing you like this - desperate and needy for me."

Chris gasped sharply as your hand wrapped around his aching cock, his hips jerking up involuntarily into your touch. "ah!- m-mama!" he cried out, his voice high and needy. His eyes rolled back, fluttering closed as intense pleasure coursed through him.

"yours," he managed to gasp out between ragged breaths, his body arching into your touch. "all yours. Only yours." his hands gripped your shoulders tightly, blunt nails digging into your skin as he fought the urge to thrust into your fist.

Chris's cock throbbed in your hand, the silky skin hot and velvety soft. pre-cum leaked from the tip, coating your fingers with slick fluid. the musky scent of his arousal filled your nose, making your mouth water with the desire to taste him.

you licked your lips hungrily, admiring how your hand barely fit around Chris's thick girth. unable to resist any longer, you leaned down and flicked your tongue out, lapping at the bead of pre-cum gathered at the slit.

Chris let out a choked moan, his cock twitching at the contact. "oh god, yesss," he hissed, his fingers threading into your hair encouragingly. emboldened by his reaction, you parted your lips and took the swollen head into your mouth, suckling gently.

the taste of him exploded on your tongue - salty and masculine, with an underlying sweetness that made you want more. you hollowed your cheeks and began to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass as you worked him with lips and tongue.

Chris's back arched off the bed as you took him into your mouth, a guttural groan escaping his throat. "fuck, just like that, ma," he rasped, his hips starting to move in shallow thrusts as he lost himself in the sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him.

your skilled ministrations had him quickly teetering on the edge, every pull of your lips and swirl of your tongue driving him closer to climax. he tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your movements as he fucked your face with increasing urgency.

suddenly, Chris froze, his cock pulsing against your tongue as he hit his peak. "ahh! m’cumming!" he bellowed, his body shaking violently as he spilled into your mouth. you swallowed every drop, milking him dry as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

oncee Chris had caught his breath, you released his spent cock from your mouth with a lewd pop. Looking up at him through lidded eyes, you gave him a sultry smile. "you did so well, baby. such a good boy for me," you praised, trailing your fingertips along his inner thigh.

Chris blushed at your words, a pleased grin spreading across his face. "thank you," he murmured shyly, basking in your approval. "i wanna make you feel good too. can i... can i be inside you? please?" he gazed at you hopefully, his hands resting on your hips.

with a gentle nod, you slowly climb onto his body, straddling his thighs as you settled over him. leaning down, you captured his lips in a deep, languid kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue. as you kissed, you reached between your bodies, grasping his semi-hard cock and positioning it at your entrance.

slowly, deliberately, you sank down onto him, savoring the stretch and fullness as he filled you inch by delicious inch. Chris's hands came up to rest on your hips, fingers digging in lightly as he watched you impale yourself on his shaft.

"mmm, you feel so good inside me, baby," you purred, breaking the kiss to gaze down at him adoringly.

a slow, sensual rhythm developed between you two as Chris started to thrust up into you, meeting your downward motions. he pulled you close, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as he held you flush against his chest. burying his face in the crook of your neck, he peppered your skin with soft kisses and gentle nips.

"i love you," he whispered fervently, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. "love being inside you. Love holding you. love everything about you."

his declaration of affection sent a warm glow through your chest, filling you with contentment and happiness. you clutched him tighter, rocking against him as you lost yourself in the intimate embrace.

your movements became even more fluid and synchronized, Chris's slow thrusts perfectly timed with your own rising and falling. each stroke of his cock against your sensitive walls sent tingles of pleasure coursing through your body, building a low, simmering heat within you.

as you rode him, Chris continued to shower you with affectionate touches - brushing his thumbs over your nipples, tracing patterns on your back, and pressing sweet kisses to your forehead and cheeks. The combination of his loving attention and the exquisite friction of his cock inside you soon had you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

"p-please, ma," Chris begged softly, his voice strained with need. "need to feel you fall apart on me."

Chris's pleas were like gasoline to the flames of your desire, igniting a fierce passion within you. you quickened your pace, grinding your hips down harder as you chased your impending climax. the room filled with the sounds of your mingled moans and the slapping of flesh against flesh.

with a final, powerful thrust, Chris buried himself to the hilt inside you. that added depth proved to be the trigger you needed, sending you hurtling over the edge. your pussy clenched around him rhythmically as waves of intense pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

as you rode out the aftershocks, Chris held you close, whispering words of devotion and admiration into your ear. his cock remained nestled deep within your spasming channel, prolonging your blissful state.

as the last tremors of your orgasm subsided, you collapsed against Chris's chest, both of you panting heavily. he stroked your hair soothingly, murmuring reassurances as he cradled you in his arms.

after a few moments, Chris carefully withdrew from your still-sensitive body, rolling onto his side to face you. he cupped your cheek, tilting your face up towards his. "i love you so much, ma," he said, his eyes shining with adoration. "you’re seriously everything to me."

you smiled tenderly, leaning into his touch. "and you're everything to me too, baby," you replied, sealing your words with a soft, loving kiss.

Chris's arms tightened around you as he held you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. He rested his forehead against yours, a quiet contentment settling over both of you. the morning was still young, but lying here in each other's arms, it felt like time had slowed down just for you.

he pressed another soft kiss to your forehead, his voice a low murmur. "think we can go back to sleep?"

AUTHORS NOTE: sorry for the late posting my cutesy butts! works h e c t i c rn. also i giggle at the fact that my blog is mostly chris fics rn, I SWEAR IM A MATT GIRL YALL. pls don’t get me wrong, love chris #needs him (and nick) but matt is actually my husband (confirmed) and i promise there’s a whole fic (plus part two to friends!) for him coming soon :)!

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gojhoes · 9 months ago

Text

my good neighbor

synopsis: You've lived next door to Geto for nearly a year, yet your neighbor remains all but a mystery. But as for you- he knows everything about you, from the shampoo you use to the books you keep by your bed.

warnings: MDNI 18+, NSFW contents: geto x fem!reader, yan(?)!geto, age gap, breeding, masturbation, no curse au, dubcon(?), somno, p-in-v wc: 6.3k

It all starts when an Amazon package with your name on it somehow ended up in Geto's mailbox. He would later refer to this occurrence as his greatest gift from God; the most blessed twist of fate to ever work in his favor.

A pink cardboard box sits on his counter, jarringly bright in comparison to the deep neutral design of his apartment. If the package's appearance wasn't proof enough, printed on top is an address nearly identical to his own, except his is 3-D, not 3-C. Clearly, it belongs to the tenant to his right- an easy mistake to be made by someone who reads hundreds of names and address every day.

Geto knows that he could march back down to the mail room and leave the package in the correct mailbox. He could walk away without another thought but given that the box is this specific shade of pink, he figures it might be something you're really excited for. You're probably wondering about it right now, peering confusedly at the 'Delivered' notification from your email. Besides, you both live on the third floor, so he'd be saving you an extra trip. He's just being a good neighbor.

But then he starts to think- he recognizes this shade of pink. His ex-girlfriend had once received a very similarly shaped package in the same color. Inside that package had been a vibrator that he'd grown quite familiar with over the course of their relationship. Could it be the same thing boxed up right here addressed to you?

Your door is cracked when steps out of his apartment with the package in his hand. From this angle, all he can see is the door to the coat closet directly to the right of the entrance. In his apartment, the same closet is on the left, confirming his suspicions that your bedrooms do, in fact, share a wall.

It also meant that your living rooms were connected, but Geto was already well aware of that. Yours seemed to be the gathering place for all of your friends and given the amount of chatter that trickled through the wall every evening, you had quite a few of them. Not that he minds- he works nights as a pharmaceutical lab tech, so it's not like he's there when you're having your get-togethers.

It was less bothersome during the week than on the weekend, which was when you hosted your entire gaggle of acquaintances for what sounded like game night. He was still working out the details of all the different voices, but over time, he'd developed the ability to recognize certain voices by the pitch and cadence of their speech.

It hadn't been on purpose, but the walls were stupidly thin, hardly a step up from a curtain. It was impossible not to eavesdrop, especially when the voices dwindled to only yours and another that was undeniably male. Geto'd glue himself to the wall trying to hear what the two of you were getting up to, but it seemed you weren't that kind of girl.

Or maybe Geto was assuming incorrectly that there was any type of romance going on. But for the last several weekends, he would hear the two of you chatting, then it would be quiet for a bit, as if you were pausing the conversation to make out. He has not, however, heard any sounds of pleasure from your side of the wall, and that alone has piqued his curiosity.

However, during the day, your side of the wall typically was quiet. Just as he would be getting out of the shower in preparation for bed, he'd hear your alarm blaring right at 7am. If it was loud to him, he could only imagine how your ears still functioned properly after such repetitive torture. He'd hear you getting ready through the walls and smell the coffee you brew while you take a shower. By eight o'clock, there is a jingle of keys followed by hours of silence, and he sleeps just fine.

It had to have been nine months or so since you'd moved in, yet Geto hasn't laid eyes on you even once. Your apparent opposite schedules have managed to keep the two of you from crossing paths despite living just inches from each other.

As he stands between your neighboring doorframes, he thinks about how strange it feels to know someone's daily routine despite never having glimpsed you. Based off your schedule and the lively nature of your social life, he's deduced that you must be an undergraduate student at the nearby university. He himself had graduated the semester before, but the rent was cheap and moving was too much of a hassle.

But what were you, 19? 20? With your own apartment, an 8-3 schedule, and enough time to hang out with your friends nearly every day? He couldn't be sure of your age, not without seeing you, but your behaviors made him sure that you were young.

Geto glances down at the box again, reading your name aloud to test the sound of it on his tongue. He eyes the opening of your door again, craning his neck to see what else might be behind it, but no dice. Maybe if he should just go in and leave it on the counter. He would get to see your place and hopefully satiate this prolonged curiosity, even for just a moment.

Besides, you've left your door cracked. Every front door in the building locks automatically when closed, so technically, it would be your fault if this was a robbery situation, regardless of the value of your things. It's too tempting- he's been too intrigued by the box clutched in his hand. It was fate for the two of you to meet this way. Every time you held it to your clit as you came, you'd think of the moment you saw him with the box in his hand at your door.

His hand hovers over the doorknob- is he really about to do this? Wherever you've gone, you'll likely be back any minute if you've been so careless about your door. No, it's not the right time. He's already nervous about how you will react, even more so knowing he's going to be seeing you for the first time.

You know when someone just sounds hot? The music your body makes is so human, yet so graceful and controlled until your friends come over. You sound perfect when you're just simply existing by yourself. He feels, in so many ways, that he knows you so well already. It wouldn't take him any time at all to learn how to give you what you want. Maybe he'll tell you that, if the moment presents itself.

He's fortunate yet again for the lack of insulation used by the contractors. There is a rushed set of footsteps echoing from the stairwell at the end of hall, giving him enough warning to take a step back until he's standing just the perfect distance between your two neighboring doors. He looks up as the footsteps close in, and his heart skips a beat when he finally, finally sees you.

"Hi!" you chirp. "You must be my neighbor."

The last few steps you take give him enough time to drink you in. You can't be older than 20 with plush lips and a pretty smile, one that lights up your face and showcases your lack of smile lines. And what you're wearing makes his mouth go dry. It's a baby blue pajama set with thin straps and the shortest goddamn shorts Geto has ever seen in his life. He's staring, he knows he is, but you're even more gorgeous than he could've imagined. Your hand shoots out to shake his, small and soft enveloped within his grasp for just a wink of time.

It's not enough, not even close to satisfying the desire you've instilled in him. He forces himself to look at your face and not at the tops of your tits threatening to spill out of that useless pajama top. God, and he can see your nipples straining against the thin fabric-

"I believe this belongs to you," he says, holding out the pink box.

Your face lights up impossibly as you pull it into your hands, and Geto thinks he might die right there. He smiles at your excitement; he was right- you were excited to get this. God, he would be so good to you if you'd let him.

"Oh, thank you!" you say enthusiastically. "I've had a lot of packages go missing lately, so it's really nice to actually get this one. Thank you so much."

You're practically worshipping him with the sinful sweetness dripping from your words. So well-mannered. Would you be this polite if he brought you into his bed and offered to give you his cock? Would you smile at him as you are now, and say please every time you ask him to fuck you? He'd do it for you- he'd give you everything simply just for being such a sweet girl for him.

Geto smiles and introduces himself. "It seemed like a pretty important package."

He catches the way your shoulders tense and the slight flush of your cheeks- shit, was it actually a vibrator in there? Clearly, you're embarrassed, so it would make sense, but there's no need to be ashamed of getting one.

But you're smiling sweetly again, any trace of worry wiped clean. "It's nice to finally meet you, Geto," you say, and he swears that he sees your eyes flick down to his lips.

He hums, tilting his head to side as if to study you. "Likewise."

You send him one more polite smile before disappearing into your apartment. As he's closing his own door, he's imagining you making a cup of coffee like you do every morning. Are all of your pajamas that pretty? He's met you once, but already he can tell that you're a princess. He bets your parents pay your rent and send you money for groceries anytime you ask. A girl as sweet as you was probably well-accustomed such doting and pampering.

Someone was taking care of you, but were they making sure you were safe? Who was reminding you to keep your doors locked? You were a young pretty girl living on your own in the city- anything can happen. Clearly it seems that you need someone to look out for you, and who could possibly be better for the job than him? He lived so close by already; checking on you would be no problem at all.

And after seeing your perfect thighs in your little shorts, the swell of your breasts straining against the blue fabric...he'll do anything if it means he might get to see that again. He'd come up to you from behind and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your ass against his hips. One hand holding your chin as he kisses the side of your neck, squeezing your thigh with the other...

You need him. Someone older and more mature to nurture you properly. Besides, he was just being a good neighbor.

That evening, he rearranges his room so that the head of his bed is flush against the innermost wall of his apartment, the one that he shares with you.

*** Geto will admit that somewhere deep inside, he does feel guilty. This part of him is disgusted and ashamed, constantly wishing he could be different and cursing himself because he's not. But he was going to make you love him. Once you let him in, you'll wonder why you hadn't come to him sooner. You'll see- he'll prove it to you, and then you'll understand that everything he does is for you.

But the rest of him, the more dominant parts of his personality, run rampant once he's fallen for you. He isn't acting right, deep down he knows that, but he can't stop. He doesn't want to stop. He wants to know every secret you might be hiding. The home a person keeps says so much about them, and he wants to know everything. You won't have to hide from him, not ever, and he'll make sure you know that. Maybe he's obsessed, but can you blame him? You're just so perfect.

He's starving for you, but he's got to be subtle; if he's too forward, he risks upsetting you or scaring you away. He doesn't want to stress you out, either, but it's essential that he sees your apartment. He needs to check your locks, especially the one on your balcony and make sure that you're keeping up with your cleaning.

It means taking advantage of the several minutes you leave your door cracked when you've gone down to the basement to do your laundry. Every Saturday afternoon, before your friends come and steal you away, you gather your basket and leave your deadbolt extended to avoid locking yourself out.

He's managed to pull it off twice, the first time being harder than the second. It took him three days to work up the courage to even try thinking of a plan, but after moving his bed to the wall, closer to you, he's descended quickly into absolute agony. It's a stroke of luck- no, of fate- that has made you put your bed against the same wall- and he can hear everything.

A few days have passed since the package mishap, and by that point, Geto had almost forgotten about the contents of the box. That night, just as he's getting ready for a shift at the lab, he hears a strange buzzing as he's brushing his teeth. It's an electric toothbrush, so his first thought is that maybe it's time to replace it. But as he rinses out his mouth, he finds that the buzzing had not ceased. It's go to be you, he thinks, immediately drying his face and flying over to the wall to press his ear flush to it. He's just in time to hear the beautiful, merciful sound of a mewl escaping from your lungs.

A shaky breath passes his lips. He's dumbfounded by the pleasure that flows through his abdomen when he realizes what you're doing. He'd totally been right about the package. Even through the wall, he's able to recognize the same vibrations. Maybe he's just been Pavlov'd, but immediately he can feel the blood rushing south as a faint throb starts in his cock.

He knows without a doubt that you've got the cutest pout on your lips, maybe a few strands of hair falling into your face as you lay your head back. "Feels good," he whispers, despite knowing that you can't hear him. Do your hips buck up into your hands, or do have those plush thighs squeezing them tight while you try to cum?

Is this really happening right now? Heat creeps up his neck and high on his cheeks as another moan, albeit quieter this time, blesses his ears. He can't stop his hand from finding his cock and palming at himself as he eyes slip shut.

He's dying to know- he wants to see you right now, wants to watch as you spread apart your folds and fuck yourself until you're trembling. He needs more, he needs everything that you can give him- and you will give him all that you can. He knows you will because you're just that good of a girl.

Fuck. He's got to get to work on time before the cultures expire and he fucks up three weeks' worth of data, but you are killing him with each sweet little moan that leaves your mouth. He's picturing you on your knees with your ass in the air, two fingers pumping in and out of your tight cunt while your other hand has a death grip on the vibrator.

He's waited so long to hear your pathetic little whines as you fuck yourself as fast you can on your too-short fingers. You're so desperate, and with how hard you're trying, it's obvious that you're getting frustrated. He wants to help you- it's clear from your desperate cries that you need him to. He would help you cum, over and over if that's what you wanted. "It's okay," he breathes. "Keeping going, it's okay."

Using a vibrator for the first time can feel almost painful if you're not used to the intensity. You're so overstimulated that you're struggling to reach the orgasm you chase so desperately. He feels genuine pity for you as cry out, "please! so close...mm." If you'd just asked him, he would've been able to introduce it your sensitive clit the right way.

He's begging you more, anything you could give him. He knows you'll do it for him soon. You were just that good of a girl, and maybe you were too sensitive to cum without a little bit of a help. If he was inside you, you'd have creamed all over his cock by now, too fucked out to ride him anymore as he pounds into your pretty pussy from behind.

As much as he would love to see you beg for it, he truly thought that you deserved to cum and felt frustrated for you. You were such a sweet girl; the only reason it took you so long to try your new toy had to be because you were nervous. Good girls deserve the best orgasms, after all.

Shit, were you still a virgin? Did you even know how to make yourself cum yet? That would explain why he hadn't ever heard those pretty sounds before. Fuck, you were going to make him lose his goddamn mind if you didn't cum in the next 60 seconds. "Y-you'll cum for me, right? I know you can do it."

Geto did not make it to work on time that day, quintessentially ruining over 300 specimens all because you wanted to play with your pussy right as he had to leave for work. It was terrible timing, but he can't say he regrets bringing himself to one of the best orgasms he'd ever had without even touching you. It wasn't enough, though, just hearing you. He needs to see it, needs to feel your warm, tight cunt squeezing him dry while you moan into his ear.

A plan comes to him, albeit a risky one. The next time you leave to do your laundry, propping your door open like always, he slips into your apartment. It's an inverted copy of his own- the same appliances, same gray tiles, a balcony at the back of the living room. Your apartment is so girly, so shamelessly you, and not to mention spotless. Geto makes a poignant effort to keep his place clean, but only a control freak would keep their apartment this organized. You must be an anxious person- but that's okay, because he'll be there to help you through it.

Two minutes pass- you should be back any moment, and while he has an idea of what he'll say if you catch him, he really wants to avoid scaring you. He can't have you feeling scared around him, so he turns to leave- he can always come back another time after he's more prepared. But then he sees a set of keys lying on your counter, and the gears in his head start turning.

You've left your door open, so you'll be able to get back in- he doesn't have to worry about that. He knows you won't be leaving anytime soon. He's confident that he'll have enough time and he doubts that you'll notice your apartment key missing if you're not actively needing it. So, he pockets the whole set and slips right back out as silently as he'd come.

Early on Monday morning, Geto waits until he hears the jingle of your keys and the click of the deadbolt as it slides into place. The smell of coffee lingers, and his clock reads 8:06, but he can't risk you coming back, so he forces himself to wait a little longer. He's nearly vibrating with the anticipation of getting so much unadulterated time in your apartment. The copied key in hand is representative of everything he's done to get closer to you. This observation will help him learn who you are- what shampoo you use, what you keep on hand in your fridge, what toys you have hidden away.

He decides it's been long enough when 20 more minutes pass, and Geto makes a beeline for your bedroom. Compared to the rest of your apartment, your room is much more lived-in. The white comforter topping your bed is rumpled, exposing light pink sheets under a plethora of stuffies and pillows. He's more interested, however, in the nightstand on the side.

He pulls open the single drawer and sure enough, there's the white vibrator that you've been using quite often lately. Aside from a bottle of lube, there's nothing aside from some medications and a pair of nail clippers. His suspicion that you're a virgin persists from your lack of sex toys- no wonder you were so embarrassed when he hinted at the contents of your package. Already, he was half-hard thinking about how good he was going to make you feel. He was ecstatic to think that no one else had touched you yet. Whoever that guy was, the one you your often spent evenings with alone, wasn't going to stand a chance.

Geto steps away to make toward your bathroom, and feels something soft under his foot. He glances down and bends to retrieve the black lacy thong you've left so mercifully on the floor. It's foul, it's intrusive, it's perfect- he brings the fabric to his face and breathes in your scent. His cock throbs in his pants, begging for attention- for your attention, but he can't have you yet. No, it has to be perfect because you are perfect, and you deserve nothing less.

He shoves the thong in his pocket before going into the ensuite bathroom.

Later that week, the universe finally gives him a break.

That fateful Friday evening, he calls in sick to work. His throat is a bit sore, and he knows the ache in his muscles isn't from last night's workout, so he opts to take his temperature, which reads 38.2°C. He knocks back some cold medicine before burying himself in the blankets on his couch, dozing in and out as the effects sweep him away.

He's roused by a rap-rap-rapping on his front door, and even through his medicated haze, his heart jumps- is it you? Is he really about to get this lucky? He glances at the clock above the stove to see that it's half-past 11, and from the din coming through the wall, he knows that you've got your friends over. As he crosses to answer the door, he does feel a bit better aside from the persistent fog clouding his brain.

And it is you, dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink top that shows off your midriff. Your cheeks are painted with a light flush and your hair is bit disheveled, obviously tipsy from the way you're swaying a little. He smiles at you, drinking in the soft curves of your hips that he's been dying to dig his fingers into.

"Hey," you say. Your speech isn't quite slurred, but there's a lilt to your words that says all he needs to hear. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this, I know it's a little creepy, but-"

He doesn't mean to cut you off, but the words spill out of his mouth before he can stop them. "No, it's no trouble at all. Bother me all you want."

You're tipsy enough that the line works- you even laugh a little, and the sound makes his heart skip a beat. Every sound you make is so sweet

"Right," you say. "D'you have a wine bottle opener by chance?"

He shoots you his best disarming smile. "I do."

"Could I borrow it for a moment? I promise I'll bring it right back, I'm right next door."

He'd give you his left lung if you asked for it. He considers inviting you in, but the state of his illness deters him. All the lights are off in his apartment and he hadn't bothered to change out of his gray sweats and black sweatshirt. His hair is down, likely tangled and flat from dozing on his couch. No, you deserve to see him at his best- he'll get you to come over soon enough.

"Of course," Geto says. "Just a second."

He leaves the door cracked in the same way he's seen yours over the last month. Your fingers linger on his own when he places the wine opener in your hand. Even that slight contact sends a wave of excitement through him.

"Swear you'll come right back?" he teases, smirking a little.

You smile again, making him fall even harder when shoot him a wink before disappearing back inside of your apartment without a response. If this was your way of flirting, he's even more enamored with you. So coy, yet so sweet as you look at him over your shoulder before the door closes.

Geto goes into his kitchen to heat up a bowl of broth. Your tits sat so pretty in that little top- did you always dress like that? Not too revealing, showing off just enough to drive him mad with desire. He didn't get to see your ass, but if it was anything like he remembered, he knew that those jeans would cling to it like a film.

As he's sipping on his soup and scrolling mindlessly through his phone, there's another knock. He's on his feet and at the door in seconds, not even bothering to hesitate to swing it open so he can see you again. This time, you're holding a bottle of rose (because of course, you are) and his wine opener.

"Can you do it for me?" You're looking up at him with what he swears is a pout, and with how you bat your eyes through the question, how can he refuse? It would be criminal not to help, especially when you're asking so nicely with that cute look on your face. "None of us can get it open."

He's delighted that you've asked him. Were there no boys over there to help you? Did you choose him over them, or were you truly just too clumsy to do it yourself?

He cranes his neck to see if anyone else stands in the hall, but it seems deserted save for you, so he pushes forward. Geto does his best to seem mildly disinterested yet nice, not wanting to scare you away with the words he really wants to say. If he didn't fuck this up, maybe he wouldn't have to wait so long to get you to come back. His plan would get to move so much faster, but he had to be careful.

"I should probably do this over the sink," he says, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp. He purposefully lets his thumb brush the tip of your pinky- enough to test the waters, but not so much that it can't be played off as sheer coincidence. As he turns to go into the kitchen, he says over his shoulder, "Feel free to come in, by the way."

The suggestion is very forward considering you've said less than 20 words to the guy since moving in a year ago. Had you been of a better state of mind, you would have politely declined- you barely knew the guy even if your beds were separated only by a few inches of drywall. But you can't deny your curiosity; not once have you glimpsed what lies on his side of the wall. So you indulge yourself and step over the threshold, making sure to pull the door as you do so.

There's no way he's getting this lucky right now. All the plotting, the strategic timing of your meetings, and his careful research are finally paying off. You are walking right into his apartment without him having to lift a finger. He doesn't think you can get any more perfect- he hasn't even touched you yet, and you seem to already know what he wants. It was proof that the invisible string was real.

You stand at a safe distance on the side of the bar opposite from his, watching intently as Geto works the wine opener into the cork. There's a satisfying 'pop' as he gives it a firm tug. What would've taken you an embarrassingly long amount of time is accomplished with one quick flex of his forearm and a small grunt of effort.

"What's the occasion?" he asks.

You stare at him blankly. "Huh?"

He returns the wine opener to its rightful drawer, drawing out the motions to maximize how long he's got you in his apartment.

"It's champagne, so I figured maybe it was for something special," he explains. "Or are you just fancy like that?"

You're smiling at him again and his heart soars. He prays that you'll always look at him like that, and only him, but he gives no indication of the depth of his feelings. He wraps his hand around the neck of the now-open bottle and extends it toward you as he rounds the side of the counter.

"You could say that," you reply with a giggle. "Thank you..um, it's Geto, right?"

He nods. "Anytime. What's mine is yours."

It comes out wrong- way too intense to say if he's trying to stay above ground with you. But you don't seem to mind. If anything, the flush on your cheeks deepens as you take the bottle from him. From where he stands, he can make out a faint scar dragging across your exposed collarbone. He wonders what it might feel like to run his tongue across you delicate skin and leave marks. Would you keen into him and clutch at him as the quick, sharp pain pulls a whine out of you?

"Um, I'm sorry if I'm ever loud or anything," he says. "I work nights, so I think we have opposite schedules." A white lie, but he doesn't want you to leave yet. If he just keeps you talking, maybe he'll get the chance to ask you to hang out. He's desperate, honestly, but he tries to hide it as he stands between you and the front door.

Your face lights with a carefree wave of your hand. "Oh no, I can hardly tell you're there most of the time. I'm a super heavy sleeper, too, so don't worry about it."

He hums and shoots you a grin. "Guess I've been worried for nothing, then."

"Same to you, though," you continue. "I have people over like, all the time, I know they can get really loud."

It's awkward now, as you stand there with your eyes darting around the room and occasionally meeting his. You're nervous, he realizes, shifting your body in a way that makes your hip jut out. He doesn't want you to leave, but he's less apt to make you too uncomfortable, so he makes to walk you out.

"Thank you again," you say, smiling at him widely. He returns your thanks, and watches you disappear into your apartment once more. Already, his mind is reeling as he checks the time. Your friends should be leaving in a couple of hours- the noise usually diminishes around 2am, which will be no trouble to stay up until.

And he makes it despite taking another dose of medicine, having long since grown used to being awake during these hours. You should've have mentioned that you were a heavy sleeper, because now he has to do this.

His clock reads 3:10 when he quietly turns the lock with his copy of your key. The lights are off and it's silent, such a vast difference from the earlier commotion. He leaves his keys on the counter in case there's an unfortunate jingle when he finally enters your room.

You sleep naked- god, you make it so easy for him to love you. Your lips are parted and the passive rise and fall of your chest signals just how deeply you're sleeping.

He slides a hand between inner your thighs, unable to help himself any longer. He teases at your entrance to see how wet you are, dipping his fingertip in just far enough to get a taste of you as he brings it up to his mouth.

And fuck, his index finger slides right in and your cunt flutters around it.

But you don't stir; there's not even a hitch in your breath as he curls his finger into that spongy tissue that he's sure should've roused you. You weren't exaggerating about your being a heavy sleeper, and Geto silently sends praise to whatever gods that were helping him pull this off. However many drinks you'd had earlier were keeping you pulled under the sea of unconsciousness.

He thinks about sliding his hands under your thighs and burying his face between them, licking and sucking at your clit to properly taste you. Surely you'd have to wake up from that, but his patience is wearing thin.

He needs this- he needs you. He's so desperate to finally sink into you, to fuck you like he's been aching to for months. His hands are on the waistband of his sweats and he's pulling out his cock, the tip already weeping as he thumbs at his slit. He wraps his hand around his shaft and starts thrusting into it, finally letting himself begin to unravel as he lets out a pleasured sigh.

God, he doesn't know where to start. Your perfect tits bounce ever so slightly with every rise and fall of your chest. The collarbones he's been wanting to bite are so vulnerable and delicate, sitting right there for the taking. But he doesn't want to ruin the moment by waking you from too much stimulation. He leans over your still body, holding himself up on his palms as he glimpses your pretty face.

He feels that he might die if he doesn't fuck you right now, lining up his cock with your entrance before he buries himself inside you.

"Ohh, fuck," he breathes. So tight, so warm, so perfect- his own perfect little pussy, so much better than anything he could've imagined. He fears that he might cum right then, digging his fingers into the sheets in attempt to steady himself. Even in such a deep sleep, you're soaking his cock with each slow thrust. Are you dreaming about him fucking you right now? Is that how your slumbering brain is making sense of all the pleasure?

Once he's got some semblance of control, he rolls his hips into yours, sinking back into you until. It's too good, and he needs more, he needs to have his cock as deep as you'll take him. He moves his hands to your knees and bends your legs until your thighs are pressing against your chest. It's desperate, the way he fucks you, but somehow, you remain as still and quiet as you'd been when he first came in. Your body jostles with each thrust and he sees the tip of your tongue creeping out from between your parted lips- fucked dumb, even fast asleep.

He knows he should probably pull out, but he's too fucked out to think straight, not to mention the cold medicine running through him right now. It's not right, but with how fucking good you feel, he doesn't care. You're going to wake up with his cum dripping out of your aching cunt, wondering obliviously if your period came early. Traces of him will be all over you and he just knows you'll love the feeling. He can already tell you're going to be his little cumslut- you're too sweet to deny him such a pleasure.

His thrusts get faster until his balls are full on slapping against your ass and his muscles tense all over. You're squeezing him so fucking tight, it's a wonder he's lasted this long, especially with how needy you've made him.

An involuntary flutter of your cunt sends him over the edge. His orgasm wracks his entire body and he's trembling with each spurt of his cum that covers your gummy walls, uncaring as to what consequences might await him. He moans out your name, panting as he empties every drop into you, and you just take it so well. Just as he's about to pull out, your eyes flutter open ever so slightly.

But you're so tired- you don't even notice that it's Geto hovering over you before they slip shut again. "Mm," you murmur. "Wh-what are you..mm." The words trail off, and a moment later, your breaths are soft and even again as sleep takes you once more.

You're adorable. He slips out of you as gently as he can, he waits until he can see his cum start to trickle down to the curve of your ass. He lifts a hand to stroke your cheek and brush away the stray hairs on your face, but he doesn't want to risk waking you when you're already so sleepy. With how pliable and motionless you are, it's clear that you need your beauty sleep.

As he slips out of your apartment and back into his, he can't help but think of how lucky he is. He's so lucky- how is it that fate has blessed him so richly? He was going to make you his. You were going to get so addicted to his cock, to his scent, to his taste that you'd never dare to leave him. You'll belong to him, free for him to use and praise as he pleases. But he will always reward you for being his sweet girl.

And, he thinks, you are so so lucky to have such a good neighbor.

i felt like a mad scientist the entire time i wrote this. if you've thought about trying to write fanfic, JUST DO IT because sometimes it's really fun.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #somno breeding #yandere #yandere geto suguru #obsessive love #idek

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innerfare · 2 months ago

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Blue Balls - Law: Part 2

Summary: Law takes care of his blue balls; text below the cut. If you haven't already, read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: dirty talk, daddy Law, penetrative sex

Word Count: 1,437

———

Feeling as if he had finished a marathon, Law fell backward on his bed. His mattress had never felt so plush, his blankets so soft. He kicked off his boots and slid further back, propping himself up on the pillows to watch you close and lock the door behind you.

“Y/n-ah,” he said in annoyance when you didn’t dive into bed after him.

“So impatient,” you tutted, kicking off your boots. You took off your shirt and slipped off your pants, leaving you in a matching bra and panties that were all pale blue tulle and white lace, the frivolous sort of thing Captain Law disdained unless it was on your pretty body.

He narrowed his eyes analytically at the coordinating intimates and propped himself up on his elbows. “You knew, you little brat.”

“Knew what? That you would snap today?” A smile ghosted your lips. “I had a hunch.”

Law opened his mouth to chew you out, but his mind went blank when you reached up and pulled your hair out of its clip, allowing it to spill down your shoulders. He loved the color of it against your skin, almost as much as he loved the sight of your nipples poking through your bra, obscured in part by your curtain of hair.

“Come here.” He patted the bed beside him expectantly.

“Should I?” You ran your fingers through your hair like you knew he was dying to do.

“Y/n-ah,” he scolded. “You know I don’t like these games.”

“You know I do.” You pulled on the straps of your bra a few times, causing your breasts to bounce up and down.

“I’m the captain, and I say to come here.”

“You think pulling rank will work on me?”

Law thought he was going to explode. He wanted to scream and smash things, to slam his fist into the metal wall until there was a dent beyond any hope of repairing, until his knuckles were bloody and his fingers and hand were broken. Instead, he uttered a small, “please.”

He was a pathetic, trembling creature. Had he looked in the mirror in that moment, he wouldn’t have recognized the face that looked back at him, the frown lines and furrowed brows a usual fixture but the quivering lips a new, despicable addition. But he didn’t care, not when you climbed onto the bed and crawled toward him, your breasts spilling out of your bra and your ass in the air, a sound like a purr leaving your lips.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his throat and lips dry. “Come to daddy.”

“Daddy, huh?” You straddled his hips. “You’re sure not acting like yourself, daddy.” You had grown accustomed to the quiet dominance your boyfriend exuded, the precision with which he guided both of you to orgasm. The desperate man beneath you was a far cry from Trafalgar D. Water Law, the way he whined when you sat down on his erection proof of that.

“Must you torture me?” He grabbed your hips and tried to pull your core against his painful bulge, but you resisted.

“Law.” You placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb up and down. “If it was this bad, you should’ve said something. I would have helped you.”

“Liar. You’ve been teasing me all week.”

“Only a little.”

“Besides, what was I supposed to do? You’re always with Bepo.”

It had been hell to get him to open up before, to trust you enough to express his needs, and in the time you had been away, he had clearly regressed. Knowing what your patient needed, you stopped teasing and began unbuttoning that black shirt of his.

Law felt giddy as your fingers worked at his buttons. He could do nothing but watch, the anticipation building in his gut. Just when he thought you were going to punish him endlessly, you gave him exactly what he needed, just like you always did. Your ability to tell when he was right on the edge was something to be studied.

“Come on, daddy,” you whispered in encouragement, lips brushing against his. “Show me how much you missed me.” You finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled the black fabric off his skin. He helped you get it off and threw it across the room where he intended for it to stay for the rest of the afternoon and night and well into the early hours of the morning, perhaps even the hours of the next evening.

Finally, he had a sense of control again. It put him at ease, the feel of his blankets against his bare skin, and he flipped you over. There was no stopping him, not after that.

“You should’ve said something,” he mocked, shoving your bra straps off your shoulders and pushing the stupid garment down around your midsection. “I would have helped you.” He caught one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down hard.

You yelped, hands going to those broad, tattooed shoulders of his.

Law clamped a hand over your mouth, his free hand tormenting your other nipple. He tugged and sucked, catching your moans in his hand. He wanted to do that to you for hours, wanted you to feel the ache he felt, but he didn’t last long enough to torture you.

As soon as he felt you tugging at his belt, he came undone.

He pushed your hands out of the way and undid his belt himself, unbuttoning his pants, too, and shoving his zipper down. He pulled out his throbbing length, careful not to crush his sensitive balls, and gave himself a few strokes. His breathing turned shallow, and he felt his face and chest flush.

Finally.

He shoved your panties to the side. His fingers stroked your entrance a few times, making sure you were good and wet. He pushed two inside you to stretch you out a little, but the feel of all that warm wetness was too good for him to waste on his fingers.

“That’s it, daddy,” you said as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Just like that.”

Law growled. He pushed the head inside you, almost missing your moan as white hot pleasure washed over him. He sank his full length into you, burying his face in your neck and bottoming out in your cunt as it clenched hard around his length.

“Oh, fuck. Y/n-ah.”

You thought you might cry- finally, you felt full again. You wrapped your legs around your boyfriend��s waist and tangled your fingers in his hair, the feel of his hot breath against your neck and your aching nipples pressing into his hard chest only adding to the sensation.

“Fuck me, daddy.”

With measured breaths, he began moving. His rhythm was sloppy, rather out of character for a man like Law, and you both knew it. He couldn’t find a good pace, though, not without the rubber band in his belly snapping and him emptying all the tension in his balls before you even got the chance to adjust to his size.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said in his ear. “I just want you to cum.”

“Ugh, don’t say that.”

“Cum,” you told him anyway, relishing the feel of his thrusts as they grew sloppier. He had the perfect size cock, nice and thick, curved at just the right angle to stimulate your g-spot without much effort. And he thumbed your clit out of habit, not even realizing how mindlessly yet effectively he pleasured you. “Cum inside me, daddy. Please cum inside me. Balls deep. It would feel so good, wouldn’t it?”

Law grunted into your neck. “Y/n-ah. Oh, y/n-ah” With that, he shot his load inside you, pumping his hot seed as deep as he could get it. And just when he thought it should be finished, it continued, more and more shooting out of him. He felt it seeping out, gathering around the base of his cock and balls. He couldn’t even experience the embarrassment of cumming so quickly, not with the amount of tension he had just worked out of his system.

He fell on top of you, almost crushing you with his body weight.

“Mmm.” You hummed in his ear. Though he was heavy, the feeling of your bare chests pressed together was well worth it. “Law?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you wear the black shirt because you know it’s my favorite?”

“Hmph.”

You giggled and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Law?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we go again?”

Already, he felt the hormones raging in his system, the blood flowing right back to his cock. He untangled himself from you and sat back on the pillows. “Take that off,” he said, eying your bra. He tugged on your panties. “We’re just getting started.”

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #Trafalgar Law x Afab!Reader #law smut #trafalgar law smut #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #trafalgar d water law

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michelle-anadytop · 2 years ago

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noiseproblemsonline · 2 years ago

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Things you should know about sound deadening material

Even if you can get the best materials available for soundproofing, it will not be of much use unless they are properly put in position. Therefore, they should be installed during the construction of the house itself. Although you can still derive benefit of the sound deadening material once the construction is over, it is sure that it won’t be as efficient as in the pre-construction phase.

Insulation is a way of blocking the undesired sounds that come from outside. While you can make your interiors soundproof by using noise cancelling curtains, the best place to start is the floor. The floor insulation is an inexpensive choice. It also offers an efficient soundproof between your floor and the adjacent building or floor.

You can make your windows impervious to sound by using a glass type with a special quality. The glass panels that efficiently block the external noise are occupied ideally with dense sealing. You can use blinds or acoustic ceiling panels to block the sound that may still make its way into your room. There are various other types of material that are efficient sound blockers.

It is to be kept in mind that soundproofing is different from that of sound absorption. Absorption that type of sound improvement wherein the effect of sound is deadened in a conference room, home theatre or recording studio. It limits the entry of other noises and maintains only the positive sounds in the room. In another technique of soundproof, people go to construct an additional stratum of wall in the room, with a bit space in between. This space is the main absorber of sound and thereby improving the sound quality diffusing in the room. You may also use a sound proof booth in case you feel the requirement.

#Sound deadening materia #Noise cancelling curtain #Acoustic ceiling panels #Sound proof booth

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fwibblefwobble · 6 months ago

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Jason Todd loves a lazy Sunday morning.

He wakes with his cheek smushed against the pillow. Blinking slowly, he lifts his head to assess his situation. The first rays of morning peek through the weave of the curtains, dousing the bedroom in a soft glow. The comforter bunches around your bodies, insulating your shared warmth. His left arm dangles lazily from your midsection. Your slow, even puffs of breath warm his chest through the thin cotton of his sleep shirt. He tilts his chin to look down at you, and relaxes. You're snuggled close and safe in his arms, right where you should be. His head falls back against the pillow and he closes his eyes. For once, he allows himself the indulgence of falling back asleep.

The second time he wakes, the clock face reflects 10:36. You begin to stir from sleep, slipping your hand from his back to rub at your eyes. He yawns, exhaling the funk of morning breath right into your face. Your nose scrunches and you feign offense before doing the very same right back at him. He recoils playfully, swatting at the air in front of his face.

The two of you lay in bed for another five minutes before he pulls you up from the bed and into the bathroom. He smiles at the way toothbrushes lean against each other in their container. It's the first thing he looks for in the morning, small but tangible proof of the life you've built together. He needs them, sometimes - reminders of the life he's living, the reality he has trouble trusting. Little pinch-me's litter the bathroom: his razor next to your face wash on the counter, two pairs of bathroom slippers tucked neatly against the wall, the mingled medicine cabinet. He smiles at them all as he brushes his teeth next to you. The two of you make eye contact in the mirror and exchange sleepy grins, sudsy mouths and all. He hums contentedly when you rope him into your morning routine, dutifully rubbing in the various serums and creams you dab onto his face.

He follows you into the kitchen afterwards to perform your respective morning tasks. It's a mutual compromise: Jason decides food, and you decide beverage of the morning. Today calls for tea, you think, reaching for the tin of lapsang souchong in the pull-out drawer. The pan sizzles softly behind you and you turn, interested. The sight of Jason, bedheaded and domestic, makes your heart squeeze in your chest. You can't help but walk over and press a kiss between his shoulder blades on your way to fill the kettle. He turns, gesturing at you to kiss him proper before going about your way.

A comfortable silence hangs between the both of you as you eat, intermittently broken by the scraping of silverware and sounds of eating. Diffused sunlight warms your skin to a glow, swathing your body golden against the shadows of the apartment. Jason admires you over the tilt of his coffee mug. He loves you like this, tousled and swallowed by your sleep shirt. He loves watching you eat the food he makes you. It helps him reconcile with the hands that made it, that they’re still capable of loving and nurturing despite the brutal take, take, take of his night job. You catch his stare and slow your chews, swallowing.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just lookin’ at you.”

“Something on my face?” You brush off the sides of your mouth.

“No, dumbass. I just think you’re pretty.”

You blink, your brain lagging in a response to dumbass and pretty said in succession.

Your face reflects your hesitation, and he laughs. He takes the opportunity to reach for your hand, kissing the inside of your palm and cupping his face. The display warms your heart and numbs your retort. You exhale through your nose, quirking your lips. It’s impossible to be miffed at him when he blinks slowly at you with those stupidly gorgeous eyes, blue and gleaming with mirth like burnished sea glass. He flutters his eyelashes at you, and all your remaining fight acquiesces.

“Was there anything you wanted to do today?”

He hums, considering. His head shakes no.

“Lazy day in, then?”

His head tilts, interested.

“What do you have in mind?” he asks.

“Well… we could finally do that read-a-thon thing we’ve been wanting to do for a while.”

You pause, considering. “I read your favorite, you read mine, and we can live react to each other?”

His face splits into a wide grin. “Deal.”

The rest of the day is spent on the couch with his head on your lap and a book in his hands. You mirror him in an upright position, fingers threading lazily through his hair in between flipping pages. Every so often, you look down at your hulking lap cat of a boyfriend to check in. Each time, you find contentment resting soft and easy on his face. Your heart squeezes with affection, proud of the little slice of heaven you’ve carved out of his day off.

Peace looks good on him, you think.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #red hood/reader

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anisespice · 1 month ago

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“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 3

one two

synopsis: “ just drop your boyfriend. ”

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!!), mikey and baji’s are fairly long, mitsuya’s short and sweet, not proof-read, mild mention of violence, mild angst (for the exes), and i think that’s it

notes: whew wasn’t sure where to take some of these, but i’m fairly satisfied with this conclusion for hate your boyfriend! thank you all for showing it love and i hope y’all enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

The sun was the first to greet you as it peeked through your curtains.

Awaking with a soft groan and a stretch, you winced at the immediate ache in your muscles that answered instead of relief. You began to slowly sit up, hissing through your teeth as you did. Blinking groggily at your naked form, you could vaguely make out the bruises painted along your inner thighs. The longer you examined them, the more memories that came flooding in:

Your legs were high enough to nearly touch your shoulders, spread wide and unabashed with your back pressed into the mattress, fingers tangled in silky tresses that curtained over your hips like spilled ink while an experienced tongue fluent in your pleasure buried itself deep in your…

You remembered. MIKEY had paid you a visit last night.

When your mind eventually caught up with your body, you turned to the other side of the bed hoping to be met with the comforting presence of your still sleeping companion. You grimaced.

Empty.

Tears slowly welled up in your eyes. Biting your lip to push back the whimper you so desperately wanted to let out, you hit the pillow where his head laid instead, then a couple more times for good measure. To think that this visit would’ve been any different, that for once you would mean more to him than just someone to fool around with whenever he felt like it.

But, before you could wallow in self pity any further, there’s a knock on the bedroom door. You jumped, tugging the covers up to salvage what little decency you had in your vulnerable state. With your heart thumping wildly in your ribs, your breath hitched…Did he stay after all?

A second knock. This one a little more persistent.

With a stuttered intake of breath, you answered, “C-Come in.”

There’s a brief pause, as if the person on the other side hesitated in case they heard you wrong. You called out again, this time more confidently, your fists bunching up the sheets in anticipation at the sound of the doorknob turning; hope bloomed where dread had been planted. A watery smile grew on your face, however, the person who ended up peeking around the door wasn’t at all who you were expecting.

“Wha—Takemichi?!”

Your screech made the blonde startle, jerking back into whoever was standing behind him causing them both to yelp in pain before he was promptly shoved further into the room. Stumbling over his footing, Takemichi fell flat on the floor with a large thud. You winced, reflexively pulling the covers closer to your chin. Shortly after, the culprit revealed himself, a disgruntled Chifuyu holding his nose in pain as he glared down at the offender.

“Jeez, dude, s’your head made outta freaking stone?”

Takemichi grunted from below, “You were the one breathing down my damn neck!”

Like a deer in headlights, you watched the two of them bicker back and forth for a good second until the realization of your very nakedness beneath the covers caught up with you. With fire shrouding beneath your skin, you squeaked, “U-Uh excuse me!”

The two blondes froze, as if they just remembered what they were supposed to be doing. When their eyes darted in your direction, faces lit up like Christmas, Chifuyu and Takemichi swiftly turned on their heels with stiffened bodies while profusely apologizing as they faced away to give you privacy. Nervously, you searched around for a shirt or something, seeing clothes already waiting for you on your nightstand. You knew based on how haphazardly folded they were, Mikey left them there.

Your chest didn’t feel as tight anymore.

Without hesitation you snatched the shirt and sweats and quickly threw them on. Now somewhat decent, you gave the devastated pair the okay. “You can look now…”

Even from behind, you could tell how flustered they were, their ears red and demeanor meek as they hesitantly turned back around. Chifuyu scratched his cheek and Takemichi rubbed the back of his neck, both avoiding eye contact. The former was the first to break the awkward silence, “Sorry ‘bout that, [_____].”

He elbowed the latter. “Guht!… right. Sorry [_____].”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “It’s fine…you did knock. I just…wasn’t expecting to see you two.”

“Oh, right. Mikey called us. We arrived a few minutes ago, actually.”

“Yeah, he told us to check on you to see if you were awake—”

“He’s still here?” You perked up, hopes raised high to the ceiling. The duo finally looked at you again to show their confusion. Were you not aware of that?

Clearly from your elated expression, that seemed to be the case. Both nodded firmly, and they could’ve sworn the room grew brighter from your smile alone. However, it soon dissipated when an unanswered question still hung in the air.

With a confused blink, you asked, “Wait but…why’d he call you?”

They avoided eye contact again. Takemichi answered.

“You uh.. you’re needed in the living room.”

—

Though you struggled to get out of the bed and walk, you were grateful neither of them commented on it as they escorted you out of the bedroom. From down the hall, you could faintly make out a few other voices coming from the living room, nerves beginning to raddle as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt—More people?

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight you’re greeted with. Your eyes locked on the individual tied to a chair in the middle of the room, first. His head hung low, as if he were on the verge of unconsciousness, but there was no mistaking it. “A-Aki..”

Your presence was acknowledged instantly, every pair of eyes now on you. You felt rooted to the floor, utterly gobsmacked as you scanned the small area with alarms sounding off in your head—Draken, Mitsuya, even Baji came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of ice before halting in his tracks upon noticing you. He greeted you with a wordless, fanged grin before the one man you’ve been wondering about since you woke up trailed out from behind him.

His low, tired gaze slowly sparked to life when it landed on you, lips spreading into a warm grin as he opened his arms and said, “Mornin’, angel. Sleep well?”

You widely blinked.

“Mikey…what’re you.. what is—what,” you stammered, having difficulty choosing what question to ask first as you vaguely gestured.

Your boyfriend sluggishly lifted his head, revealing his taped mouth and swollen face. Your jaw dropped, hand flying up to catch it; man’s was fucked up. And to add insult to injury, the former blonde practically floated over to you to happily engulf you in his strong embrace, as if the scene in front of you wasn’t there. You hesitated returning his affection, perturbed as you watched Baji set the bowl of ice on the coffee table and submerged his fists in it to numb his knuckles.

You gasped before gently pushing Mikey back to shout at the ravenette, “Don’t!”

Baji paused, looking over his shoulder at you. With mild annoyance, he said, “But t’s my turn.”

“Fuck your turn,” you looked back at Mikey, practically staring into his soul. “Explain yourself. Right now.”

He frowned. “No good mornin’ kiss?”

“Mikey.” You pressed, making him pout. When he didn’t say anything in response, you huffed before quickly pecking his lips, face boiling at the fact that there was an audience; you could feel Aki’s glare trying to burn you both. Mikey, on the other hand, beamed with satisfaction. “Now, will you please-”

“One more.”

“Wha—No.”

He pouted again. “One more, and then I’ll explain-”

“Right now, Manjiro!”

Your volume was unexpected, the room startling to a halt. Before Mikey had a chance to speak, you cut him off by lightly shoving him while spewing questions at him, “What the hell is Aki doing tied up in my living room like a fucking hostage? And why are you giving our friends turns?—Turns for what? Is this what you’ve seriously been doing while I was asleep? Trying to make some stupid point? Sneaking around with you wasn’t enough?”

“[_____]-”

“Why did you make me wake up thinking you left again without saying goodbye, you asshole?!”

That last part resulted in you beating your fists against his chest, and Mikey took every hit without protest.

Draken went to speak, since obviously their leader was taking his sweet time providing explanation, but swallowed his words when the shorter delinquent merely wrapped you in his arms again, placing a kiss on your forehead to smooth out the stress lines. He lingered there for a moment before resting his chin upon your head, hands soothingly rubbing your back as you shakily returned the hug, tightly clutching onto his shirt.

Gazes respectfully averted from the vulnerable display, aside from Aki as he continued to watch the two of you, overcome with despair when it all sunk in; you were never his. He had always been second place when it came to Manjiro Sano.

“Don’t be upset, angel. ‘m not going anywhere.”

You sniffled. “Then why-”

Mikey replied, coldly. “Seems your little plaything’s been busy. He paid off a couple of third-rate gangs to try and ‘stomp me out for good’.”

You stiffened, pulling back to search his eyes for any hint of a joke, but the abyss merely stared back. With a slight shake in your head, you attempted to deny the information, not wanting to believe Aki would do such a thing. But, after getting confirmation from the others, there was no room for any doubt.

“Only took us minutes to find out,” Mitsuya said. “Some of their members were cocky enough to go around running their mouths in hopes of recruiting other guys.”

“We tracked down every single one of the bastards involved. Took a few days, but a success nonetheless.” Draken added.

“And guess whose sorry ass was at the root of it all.” Baji sneered, kicking the side of the chair and sending Aki toppling over. He landed with a large thud, moans of pain following shortly after, muffled under the tape on his mouth.

You winced slightly at the sound, but weren’t able to dwell on it for long when Mikey redirected your focus back on him with a gentle nudge under your chin. His expression spoke a thousand words, ranging from solemn to devotion.

Reaching down to hold your hands, he explained.

“That’s why I left town the night after your party. Didn’t want you getting caught up in anything until we got this shit sorted out.”

With a blink, your eyes briefly shifted over to the groaning figure on your living room floor. “A bit late for that.”

Draken shook his head. “Told him we could’ve gone somewhere else to do this. Dumbass just wanted to wave his dick around.”

Mikey flushed, glaring at his second in command. “Did not!”

“Did, too.”

“Shut up, Ken-chin...” he huffed, pouting. “I just knew he wouldn’t suspect anything if [_____] asked him to come over.”

Your brows furrowed. But, your questions are answered when Mikey pulled said device from his pocket, handing it back to you.

“Might’ve borrowed this while you were sleeping.”

Taking the phone in one hand, you could only stare down at your reflection in the screen as it felt like a heavy weight in your hand. Your eyes trailed over to Aki, meeting his pained gaze as he breathed heavily through his nose. A large part of you felt horrible. With him receiving a beating on top of discovering your unfaithfulness, there was no ignoring the lump in your throat as you struggled to swallow. "I...I didn't want things to get this bad..."

Mikey squeezed your other hand, "It's not your fault, angel. Aki just forgot his place, that's all." He shot down an indifferent look at his pathetic form, Aki's blood running cold as he attempted to make himself appear smaller to avoid it. The former blonde directed a softer look at you, rubbing your arm as he assured you. "But the boys'll take care of it, so don't worry your pretty head."

Draken nodded at Takemichi and Chifuyu, the two of them making quick work to sit the guest of the hour upright, each grabbing at the chair's legs to lift Aki up and carry him out of the living room. He slowly began to panic, eyes wildly looking around the room and then landing on you as he pleaded with them, yells muffled by the tape around his mouth. "Mmmh! Mmfh! Mmfhh!"

You gaped, nervously taking a small step forward, "W-Where are you taking him?"

"Relax. Pah's lending us his truck, we're gonna load the fucker up and drop him at the hospital. I wanted to let him stargaze by a dumpster somewhere, but I was outvoted." Baji grumbled.

You allowed yourself to find relief in his statement, although it only sparked another concern. One that Mitsuya picked up on as he waved a hand. "We'll have Michi and Fuyu keeping tabs on him, make sure he behaves."

Mikey scoffed. "Even if he's stupid enough to run to the cops, we've got a few of his buddies ready to pin a bunch of shit on him, if necessary."

Without realizing just how much adrenaline you were running on, you could feel your legs buckle under you. Mikey was quick to steady you, bringing you over to the couch to sit you down, gently. He gestured for someone grab something to drink from the kitchen, Draken being the closest doing just that while Baji and Mitsuya trailed Takemichi and Chifuyu out the door to help with the truck.

Sitting there, lost in your thoughts, eventually the cold sensation of the glass of water pressed to your cheek snapped you free. Absentmindedly taking it from Draken, you muttered a soft thanks before chugging it down. Mikey sat beside you, rubbing your back as he let you take it all in. The second in command was dismissed shortly after to give the two of you some alone time, him placing a hand on your shoulder before taking his leave and closing the front door with a slam.

You jumped, blinking for a moment. Mikey took the empty cup from your shaky hands, taking them into his own as he held them. “What’s on your mind, angel?”

Closing your eyes, you deeply inhaled. Everything. Everything, everywhere, all at once, that’s what. However, you merely exhaled a small chuckle in disbelief, shaking your head as you eventually lifted your gaze to meet his attentive one. Squeezing his hands back, you softly, tiredly, responded. “Can you come back to bed now?”

Mikey looked at you, caught off guard. Then, he offered you a small grin of which soon turned into a yawn of his own. “Of course, angel.”

“So. This a thing now, or..?”

Inui’s eyes darted between you and DRAKEN, all cuddled up on your side of the booth. He was sipping his drink nonchalantly with you wrapped around his bicep, playing with his free hand while scrolling through social media. Both of you exchanged looks, him swallowing and your thumb stopping mid-scroll, then back at the confused blonde.

“Yeah.”

“Pretty much.” You chirped.

Inui heavily sighed. “Great. Means ‘m officially a third wheel. I’ll think twice before agreeing to hang out from now on. I’ve been traumatized enough when you were just on friendly terms. And I use that label lightly.”

Draken rolled his eyes. “Tsk. We were not that bad.”

“Need I remind you of the time I came into the shop earlier than normal, and you had them spread across the—Ngh!”

“Whoops. My foot slipped.” You coyly hummed, going back to scrolling. Inui’s brow twitched, reaching down to sooth his poor shin.

Draken snorted, face subtly flushed having remembered that day, vividly. It was one of the times you and your boy toy got into an argument; give you one guess about who. He cleared his throat, fist up to his lips to hide the growing smirk as Inui shot him a small glare, mouth opening to say more…until he’s loudly interrupted.

“You should’ve seen ‘em. I had that loser running for the hills!”

All three of you paused, exchanging looks of bewilderment. Peering over the booth you could see a group of guys entering the cafe, their leader instantly being recognized by both you and Draken; Takeru. You blinked in surprise, the two mechanics watching with mild interest as the boastful nuisance picked a nearby table, completely oblivious to the attention they've drawn. His friends appeared annoyed, groans leaving their lips as they slumped in their seats.

"Yeah, man, so you've said...for the hundredth time already." One had said, the other shaking his head.

"I still don't buy it. I mean, you, of all people, scaring off the Draken? No shot in hell."

Inui's eyes widened to the size of plates, you nearly choked on air whilst the forementioned man merely raised his eyebrow at the slander. Him? Running from that wet napkin? Damn straight no shot in hell. Takeru, on the other hand, was very adamant on the events being true.

He gave a smug laugh, sounding like a cartoon villain as he crossed his arms in triumph. "Well, you better believe it! I told him off for getting too friendly with [_____] and left him picking himself off the floor afterwards. It was light work."

His friends didn't look convinced in the slightest. "Mhm." "Sure, dude."

"I'm serious!"

Draken set his drink down, wry smirk growing on his face. He then cracked his neck and his knuckles as he readied himself for a much-deserved confrontation. Inui sighed, following suit as he rolled his shoulders back before standing. You sat up on your knees, whining at him as you tugged on his sleeve. "Don't kill him, Ken, I still need to get some of my things from his place..."

"I'll buy you new shit, doll." He said, gun-metal eyes hardening as he looked over at the other table. "'fraid I can't make any promises this time."

With Takeru facing the opposite direction, there was no way for him to notice the impending doom behind him. His friends, however, resemble deer in headlights at the sight of the six-foot-one and five-foot-ten approaching. Instantly recognizing the infamous dragon tattoo, they knew their friend's fate was about to be sealed. One gulped and the other merely closed his eyes in prayer.

Takeru tilted his head at them, brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, only for a large hand to latch onto his shoulder and squeeze, rendering him speechless as pain racked through his body like red alerts across a screen. Draken leered over him like a blanket of death, wearing a sharp grin as he spoke venomously.

"Oi. Mr. Light Work. Why don’t you tell me and Inui here all about how you had me ‘running for the hills’ and ‘picking myself off the floor’. I seem to recall a different scenario, but hey, you can help jog my memory outside, yeah?"

When Makoto first opened his eyes after what felt like an eternal slumber, it took him a moment to gather his surroundinngs. The bright, cold lights on the ceiling. The crisp smell of lemon-scented disinfectant and latex. The rhythmic beating of his heart monitor.

Hospital. He was in the hospital.

With a few confused blinks and a groan, he wracked his brain to try and remember what happened that landed him in there. How long had it been? A day? A week? He wasn’t sure. But, he wouldn’t have to ponder long when his privacy curtain is pulled back to reveal his mother and a nurse. She gasped, flocking to his bedside with tears instantly flowing out of her face, kisses being showered on his bruises that instantly made him hiss in pain.

“Ngh-! M-Mom,” he rasped, struggling to lean away. The nurse, though nervously, advised against any sudden movements due to his weakened state.

“Ma’am, it may not be wise to overwhelm the patient so soon, he’s-”

She fixed the nurse with a hard glare, tears still streaming down her face, looking rather unhinged. “My husband doesn’t donate thousands of dollars to this hospital for you to give unsolicited advice. Do your job and get him something to eat.”

Bristled, the nurse bit her tongue before saying something she’d regret. With a small bow she excused herself, leaving just the two of them. Immediately, his mother went back to wailing about his injuries, asking him a million questions, whilst cursing about his ‘no-good significant other for getting him into trouble’—

“Wait, wait, wait. What did you say?”

“Hm? Oh, that [_____]. I told you they were no good, just based on their lack of decorum and who they associate with, it was bound to have you end up in the hospital, or worse. Thank God they agreed to leave you for good after this because I don’t know what I would’ve done if-”

“What did they say happened?” Makoto asked, exasperated.

His mother blinked, then burst into tears once more. “Oh, no! My poor baby has amnesia! Nurse! Nurse!”

“Mother!” He exclaimed, latching onto her sleeve before she could cause more of a scene. “Tell me what [_____] told you!”

“Honey, they said you got into fight trying to protect them from a mugging.”

Makoto froze. Then, with the speed of a man on fire, tossed the thin, scratchy blankets off to the side and jumped out of bed. Nearly giving his mother a heart attack, her nagging fell upon deaf ears as he made a beeline for his things gathered in a chair sitting in the corner, immediately searching for his phone. Upon finding the device, his sourtude only worsened when he saw there were no missed calls, no texts, no nothing from you.

He began blowing up your phone, but to no avail. Went straight to voicemail every time. Minutes passed, and Makoto grew increasingly more irritated to where one could see steam emitting from his ears. His mother continued pestering him, and soon the nurse came back with a tray of food, shocked to see him out of bed and joining the pestering, of which turned into the both of them arguing once more. But he paid them no mind, too busy delving into white hot hatred, ready to sign a deal with the devil himself if it meant you and that BAJI paid for humiliating him.

Just as he was about to dial again, there's a knock at the door.

The nurse and his mother pause their back and forth, looking over at the doorway to see a boy with dual-toned hair and a dangly earring. He gave a small grin, but his eyes practically pierced through Makoto. He didn't recognize the visitor, but judging based on his tatted neck and unsettling aura, he knew it couldn't mean anything good.

"Excuse me," his mother soon broke the silence. "I believe you have the wrong room."

"Oh, no, I have the right room. My name's Kazutora. I'm a friend of [_____]'s."

Makoto's eyes widened. He thrusted an accusatory finger at him, "N-No, I know you! Y-You're that felon, you work at that pet store with that psycho who attacked me, Keisuke Baji!"

Kazutora tilted his head. "Hm? Baji didn't attack you. You were knocked out cold by a thief. [_____] called him to help bring you all the way here-"

"There wasn't any mugging! I was assaulted by that thug in [______]'s apartment!"

"What?!" His mother screeched. Kazutora merely shook his head.

"Mm, no, I think you're mistaken. Baji was at the shop when [_____] called him. They're both at the police station right now giving their statement. They sent me here to check in on you." Kazutora lied effortlessly through his teeth, stare unwavering as he gaslit everyone in the room. "Clearly you hit your head pretty hard, man. Maybe you should lie back down. You aren't thinking straight."

Makoto floundered, gesturing wildly. "HE'S FUCKING LYING!"

His mother and the nurse didn't make the situation any better, cornering him and ushering him back to bed. Even though he struggled, there was no stopping the strength of an overworked, underpaid nurse as she slammed him down onto the bed, wrestling with him for a moment until she secured him with his mother's help, tucking him in tightly within the blankets. His mother fawned over him, combing through his hair, being careful of the bandages. Tears welled up in her eyes again, thinking that her son had gone hysterical. "My poor baby..."

"No, mother, you don't understand! You need to call our attorneys right now, c-call the police! That b-bastard's trying to make me sound crazy!"

"Maybe some morphine will help calm him down." Kazutora casually commented to the nurse. She grunted in agreement, worn out from dealing with the both of them as she left to prepare a heavy dosage.

He continued to shout in protest, all the way up until the nurse stuck him with the morphine. He tried to fight against it, but it was no use. And the last thing he could comprehend before the world faded to black was the hazy outline of Kazutora, approaching his bed as he leaned down to whisper a parting threat.

"Don’t try anything stupid. We know where you live."

—

Baji's phone vibrated, causing him to groan as he turned to squint at the offending device. With you fucked out, laid out, and passed out in his arms, he wanted nothing more to ignore whatever asshole was texting him. But, upon further inspection, it was his favorite asshole sending him an update on his little problem.

from : tora 9:09pm “ 👍. ”

He grinned, sharply. After locking his phone and setting it back on the nightstand, he tugged you closer to his side, exhaling deeply in satisfaction. He'll be sure to visit the 'brave hero' tomorrow. May even bring Patches.

He wished he had a camera to capture the look on your boyfriend’s face right now.

When Haji came over to apologize for his behavior yesterday, flowers in his hand and everything, MITSUYA was the last thing he expected to see. Said lavender-haired delinquent looked him up and down, disinterest coloring his expression as he leaned against the doorframe, shirtless, mind you. It didn't take Haji long to notice the assortment of hickies painted across his pale torso, all the way down to his pelvis visible in his low-hanging joggers.

Haji could feel bile rise in the back of his throat. Anger soon bubbled right after.

But, before he could even think to spew out threats, Mitsuya reeled his arm back and with the strength of God himself landed one crack right between Haji's eyes, sending him and the flowers flying backward, right off the stoop. He landed with a sickening thud to the pavement, flowers spreading haphazardly as some fluttered in the air until they eventually landed on the ground. Mitsuya shook out his knuckles, turned on his heel to grab the couple of boxes sitting near the doorway, filled with some of Haji’s stuff. He tossed them out the door to land right by his unconscious body, dusting off his hands before heading back inside, slamming the door right behind him.

Like he said. He only needed one.

#🍁wasabi #*rings bell* KNOCKOUT #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tr smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev scenarios #tokyorev headcanons #tokyorev imagines #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

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distantdarlings · 3 days ago

Text

SORE LOSER // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* After tossing and turning for hours, you decided to take advantage of one of your Prefect privileges, which is the gorgeous Prefect’s bathroom. It seems, though, that someone else had the exact same idea.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in gn!Reader), gender neutral reader, fingering (gn!receiving), slight voyeurism, Dom!Theo, Sub!Reader, sex in bath, spanking, Theo is slightly rough, language, not fully proof-read. (Lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

ME&U - Zeke Bleu, Midnight Moon.

- - -

Between the day you had and the evening you’d failed to make relaxing for yourself, you would have assumed you’d be ready to pass out. But for some reason, you could not fall asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying here, tossing and turning amongst the golden silk sheets, but you knew it had to have been a while.

The quiet breathing of your dorm mates beyond the canopy curtains, had slowly transformed into calculated, deep inhales and little snores. You knew that you were the only one left awake, and for some reason that made you feel even less confident you’d ever get to sleep, simply because of how focused you currently were on the little sounds they made.

The whole room was too quiet and the cold stone walls seemed to amplify every single breath that was taken in and bed spring that creaked. It was maddening.

You rolled to your left side and shut your eyes, the change in position was comfortable and gave you a bit of hope until the student to your right let out an echoing snort and a few nonsensical murmurs.

At that moment, you huffed and yanked your duvet back, feeling the cold air scrape along your exposed skin. You pulled the canopy curtains aside and let your feet hang over the bed. With a whispered summoning charm, your slippers whizzed to your feet. You stood and made your way to the foot of your bed.

Your shaking fingers gripped the heavy lip of your clothing trunk. The old wood creaked against its hinges as you slowly eased it open, wincing at the interrupting sound.

Hopefully, it wasn’t loud enough to wake any of your dorm mates. You plucked your soft robe off of the hook fixed to one of the bed’s posts and slipped it over your shoulders.

Quickly, you selected a change of clothes, toiletries, and a towel, before easing the trunk lid back down.

You shuffled over to the dormitory entrance and slipped through the heavy door. You supposed if anything would make you sleepy, it’d be a nice, warm bath. If that didn’t do it, you may resort to knocking yourself out.

Once outside the dorm, you readjusted everything stacked in your arms and held your breath. A second passed before your body felt as if it was sucked into a tube.

Whooshing sounds echoed all around you, and your arms struggled to keep all of your supplies clutched together. Just as it felt as though you were about to drop your things, your feet landed on solid stone ground. Your legs wobbled just slightly as you gathered your bearings, recognizing the gorgeous stained glass shimmers that belonged to the Prefect’s bathroom.

As your eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, you noticed that the grand pool had already been filled to the brim with steaming, bubbly water. With a sigh, you smiled and set your stuff down one one of the benches lining the water.

It never failed that the castle read your mind and prepared exactly what you wanted. You had previously thought that the only part of the castle that could read one’s mind was the Room of Requirement, but you soon discovered other areas of the castle could also do it.

With a deep sigh, you worked the knot of your robe loose and let the heavy material slide off your arms. It hit the floor with a muffled thump. Next, you tugged the old tee shirt over your head. The cold air swirled around your exposed breasts, coaxing your nipples up and forward.

You slipped your bottoms down your legs. Colored moonlight shone across your thighs and hands.

Just as your bottoms hit your ankles, you stepped out of your slippers and the thin fabric puddled atop them.

Even though you could wash them, the thought of your underwear touching the bare bathroom floor was too much for you to handle. You stifled a gag at the thought.

Turning, you slipped strands of hair behind your ears and walked to the edge of the pool. The tile was cold and biting beneath your feet, but the water was warm and inviting. Even from the rim, you could feel its heat radiating up.

Settling a toe into the water, you could feel the heat spread across your feet and up. Chills erupted along your whole body as the warmth combated against your cold skin.

You sank the rest of your body down the stairs, each inch submerging more of your aching muscles.

Once you settled all the way down, and sat on the edge of the tile that jutted out near your hips, you closed your eyes. The warm water ringed around your neck, soothing every bit of your body.

You couldn’t help but let a slight moan slip between your lips as your skin heated up.

You could already feel the pain and insomnia alleviating.

Your fingers wiggled aimlessly in the black emptiness, their weightlessness easing your mind. If you picked your feet up, the pool was just deep enough that you’d float.

A thought passed briefly before your eye. You gasped and opened your eyes.

For a moment, it felt as though someone might be here. The feeling creeped up your spine and niggled in the base of your skull.

You glanced around, the tips of your damp hair gliding across your neck. The light from the grand windows was just enough to cast glares across your eyes as it reflected off the water. It was near impossible for you to see anything at the opposite end of the pool clearly. It all just seemed to disappear into the dark.

Trying to ignore the feeling, you murmured a locking spell, hearing the door’s lock clunk into place. If someone had been in here, you would not have been able to just walk in. They would have locked it. Surely.

You shook those thoughts away and turned to reach for your things laid out across the bench. You selected some hair oil and body wash—the same you’d used since you were a child—and set them just at the edge of the pool.

The water splashed gently as you wet your hair and face. The only sound was the soft pattering of the water and your breathing.

As you lathered the oils into your hair, your eyes shut and you thought of the stressors that had thrown themselves at you earlier today.

Not only had you spilled your tea all over your bottoms (and were late to class because of it), you’d actually gotten something wrong in your class today. And that wasn’t even the most frustrating part of it. Everybody got things wrong in class from time to time, but no one had ever gotten a fact wrong in the middle of a debate with the only asshole in Hogwarts that had ever managed to upstage you. And to make matters even worse, it was a debate on Astrological matters, which was your best fucking class.

It was humiliating. You could still see the way that bloody Theodore Nott had smirked when he realized you’d misspoken. He knew he’d gotten you cornered, and you’d known you were screwed.

How pathetic.

You rinsed your soapy hair out, wringing the excess bubbles from the strands and watching them pool around you in the water.

“I haven’t gotten a show like this in a while—”

A scream left you as shock splattered across your body. You turned anxiously, trying to find the source of the voice, while simultaneously trying to cover your naked body.

Finally, your eyes landed on a figure in the darkness, hidden by the rays from the window.

“Who’s there?” you demanded, covering your body beneath the water.

Then he walked into the light and you recognized the very boy you were trying to ignore. Theodore Nott.

Your eyes betrayed your mind and glanced down, tracing the tight muscles that ran along his entire body. Quidditch would do that to a boy, you supposed.

“Hey, Hufflepuff,” he whispered, edging closer.

“No, Nott,” you said, holding a finger out. “You stay back… Cover your eyes and I’ll get out and leave.”

He was now standing a few feet from you. You could see the details in his unfortunately gorgeous face. A deep smirk was drawn across his lips. The light behind him illuminated him like a god. You swallowed nervously.

“What if I don’t want to cover my eyes? Or want you to leave?” he asked, cocking his head to the slide slightly.

With every word, he slid slowly closer, the soapy water trailed over his naked stomach. Even at your full height, the water consumed most of your chest. You hadn’t remembered him being this tall.

He stopped just before you, your head directed upwards just to look him in the eye. The moonlight carved into one of your eyes, painting your skin in reds and greens and blues.

One of his fingers slowly came up to trace the lines of the patterns the stained glass cast on your cheek. Then you were stepping back away from him.

“Uh, Nott, that’s not a good idea,” you shuddered, looking away from him. You pulled some of the bubbles closer to your chest to conceal yourself.

Standing naked in a relatively small body of water with your notorious academic rival wasn’t exactly the greatest idea. The thought of his hands being so close to your exposed body was making you nervous.

He was gorgeous—that much was obvious. Given the chance, you’d likely sleep with him but—

Given the chance, you’d likely sleep with him. Was this your chance? Merlin, you were pathetic.

“Why not? Call me Theo, by the way,” he said, walking back over to you.

“Erm, alright, Theo…this isn’t a good idea.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Well…,” you started. You couldn’t lie—it was hard to think of a reason why the two of you couldn’t do something, besides the whole rival thing. “Because you’re a Slytherin.”

You almost rolled your eyes at what you’d blurted out. Because you’re a Slytherin. What, were you five years old? You refrained from slapping a hand to your face.

He chuckled a bit and placed an arm to the right of your head, caging you against the wall of the pool even more. Your hands shook beneath the water.

“Because I’m a Slytherin? Isn’t that a reason to want to fuck me?”

Heat shot to your abdomen, but it wasn’t from the water surrounding the two of you.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you laughed nervously. His other arm went beside the left side of your head. He had now completely caged you in.

You could hardly believe how he was behaving. You didn’t think he’d even noticed except when you were in the middle of one of your heated class debates.

Then, he not only noticed you, but he saw you as well. His eyes looked through you and into you. His lips formed every word so perfectly as he pushed and fought for the win, and, damn it, if it wasn’t one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen.

Those debates always had you panting and with your hands between your legs. All except for today. You’d never lost before.

You win every time, you feel the tension between his desperation to overcome you, you fuck yourself beneath your sheets. You lose, he feels the tension, he fucks you? Was that how this worked?

“Come on, Hufflepuff,” he whispered, face so close to yours. “You know you want to. I know you feel it when we debate. The way your eyes always flicker down to my lips, the way your cheeks flush. That’s not just nerves from a debate. No…” He leaned down beside your cheek, lips gently caressing your ear. “It’s lust.”

He pulled back and watched the changes in your eyes. Fear was keeping you from slamming your lips into his, but desire was urging you to take him right there. You were frozen.

The back of his index finger stroked the outside of your arm. It traced slowly up the curve of your elbow, then your bicep, then your shoulder. It stopped when he reached your collarbone.

At that point, his hand turned and pressed its palm between your clavicles. His hand was so large, the tips of his finger spanned up to the top of your throat.

The heat from his skin was ten-thousand times hotter than the water. Your eyes fluttered.

“Say you want it,” he whispered. Your eyes opened again.

Could you even say yes to this? After years of pining after him, would there even be a point? A quick fuck and then the two of you never talked again? That didn’t sound good to you.

Still, the pulsing between your thighs was almost too much to bear. Between the light cutting across your skin, the hot water, and his skin on yours, you found it impossible to even move your lips enough to form words.

Desperate for more of him, you ignored all of your doubts and nodded your head.

Without another moment, the hand on your chest cupped your jawline and pulled your lips to his.

His lips were hot and wanting—angry, almost. His tongue pried your lips open with a cruelty that was unmatched. Your shaking fingers lingered on the edge of his naked chest as he kissed you open. You wanted so badly to touch him, but—

You gasped. His hands roughly grabbed yours and pressed them flat against his chest. He must have sensed your hesitation to touch him.

He pressed your body even farther against the edge of the pool as his lips detached from yours and attached to your neck.

You’re gasping and your stomach is broiling and heat is building between your legs and everything in you feels like it’s engorging.

With a gained moment of confidence, your fingers rose to curl in his damp hair. Your fingernails scraped gently over his scalp, to which he replied with a sighing moan against your skin. His hot breath blown against you made chills erupt down your arms.

His fingertips traced down your sides, eliciting flames with their trail. You shuddered beneath his body which controlled your every move.

Once they’d reached the top of your thighs, he pulled away from your neck and placed his forehead against yours. Panting against your lips, his body smelled lightly of his toothpaste and the heat between the two of you.

“Can I?” he breathed.

“C-can you what?” you stuttered, fingers holding onto his shoulders like a vice. The water was warm around you.

“Can I fuck you?” He didn’t linger on the question. He just asked. His confidence was like a drug. His nose brushed yours as his fingers slipped toward the inside of your thigh, teasing farther and farther, until you let out a stifled whimper and nodded your head frantically.

Then he was sinking his hand between your wet thighs and grasping you within his palms. You gasped beneath the pressure of his large hand. The pure size of him covered the entirety of your core far better than yours ever could.

The amount of nights you’d spent imagining this happening with Theo was lengthy, but you’d never imagined how much bigger he truly was.

Your eyes clenched tightly at the sensation. Your lips mouthed his name silently, your fingers scraped down his back. He groaned against your lips at the sensation, the pain urging him on.

“Turn around,” he demanded. He released your sex and grasped your waist roughly.

The speed with which he turned you around and leaned you over the rim of the pool had your head spinning. The cold tile pressed against your bare chest and stomach, the shocking sensation blurring your eyes.

The edge of the pool bit into your hip bones as he raised your ass out of the water and balanced you against it.

You placed your hands down to try and rearrange yourself when Theo grabbed them and pulled them behind you. They were held tightly against your tailbone, clutched meanly in just one of his hands.

You groaned at the sensation, the tile rubbing against your sensitive nipples and core. Fuck. Between the heat of the water still covering your legs and the freezing tile, your heart was racing.

“You’d better be loud for me, baby,” Theo said, free hand tracing down the line of your ass. “Want all of the school to hear who’s fucking you so well, okay?”

One finger breached your entrance suddenly, the sudden feeling causing your body to jolt forward away from the boy behind you.

“Fuck, Theo,” you moaned.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Let me hear you.”

He worked you open gently, surprisingly letting you adjust to every inch of his lengthy finger before he added a second, then a third finger.

Once he felt you were stretched enough, he hummed approvingly.

“Breathe for me, darling,” he whispered. “Gonna hurt just a little bit…”

Then he was pressing himself against your entrance as anticipation swirled in your stomach. Your cheek pressed against the cold bathroom tile.

When he pushed into you, your fists clenched so tightly, your fingernails bit sharply into your palms. You were sure blood was pooling across your fingers.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking tight. You ever been stretched like this?”

You moaned loudly as he slowly worked himself out, then pressed himself back into you. Every inch of his length was tracing every inch of your insides, claiming your body as his.

His free hand came down hard against your ass. You yelped loudly at the sensation, the sound echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Answer my fucking question,” he demanded, hand around your wrists squeezing tighter.

“No! No…never,” you moaned louder.

“All those fucking debates,” he growled, beginning to pound into you harder. “Always giving me that fucking smirk when you win. It got to the point where I wanted you to win so you would give me that smirk and turn to the rest of the class and bow. I could always get the perfect view of your ass. Merlin, I wanted to bend you over the fucking desk and show everyone what a bitch you are.”

You groaned at his filthy words.

“You may have won those fucking debates, but I’ve won this fucking body. You’re mine.”

“Theo,” you whined shamelessly, your finish building up rapidly within your lower stomach. Your shoulders were beginning to cramp from where Theo was holding you so tightly.

“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” he teased. “Always wanted to make you feel…so…good…”

Every last word was punctuated by a particularly sharp thrust.

The sloshing of the water between the two of you splashed up around your hips, coating you in its warmth. Every sensation was building and beginning to become too much.

It wasn’t long before your hands were clenching again and your hips started to shift. You were so close and Theo knew it.

“Fuck, I can feel you tightening around me,” he groaned. His voice was cracking slightly with every few words. His fucked out rasp echoed off the walls, traveling around and crashing into your ears.

The sound alone was enough to push you over the edge, but the hot stripe that he leaned down and licked along the length of your back finished you.

You came hard. Your stomach clenched as your eyes rolled upwards.

Your orgasm slipped into the water between the two of you.

The sensation of your finish clenching around Theo had his thrusts becoming more desperate and disorganized. He only lasted a few more strokes before he was cumming shamelessly inside of you.

He released your arms and laid across your back, groaning deeply as he finished himself off, pulling himself out and then pushing back in. He pumped you full of his cum a few more times until the sticky sensation was rippling overstimulation through him.

“Fuck, that was perfect,” he groaned against your wet spine. He placed an open-mouthed kiss against your flesh there, his tongue curling against you.

You moaned sleepily, only half-present as he pulled himself off of you. He helped you slide comfortably off the edge of the pool and settle your cold top half into the warm water.

You sighed comfortably and looked up at him.

“I had no idea you were such a sore loser,” you teased.

He smirked, a small chuckle coming from between his lips. He leaned across you and selected your hair oil from where it still stood on the tile, long forgotten about.

He poured a bit into his hands before turning back to your tired body. His fingers slid against your scalp, lathering the product into your dampened strands. Fuck, his fingers weren’t just good inside of you… Your eyes slipped shut as he washed your hair so gently.

His lips pressed softly against the shell of your ear. “The only one around here who’s going to be sore is you, baby.”

- - -

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