#because this is not the first time they park bikes in my spot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

villainmorals · 14 days ago

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⠀ REMIND ME! SYLUS QIN X F!READER.

summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.

warnings. nsfw, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral sex (female receiving) because sylus is a munch, doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare

wc. 6.1k

note. … so, this is my first time writing on this platform. i do not stand by anyone’s depicted behavior but… what can i say? I love an unconventional concept. ^.^ see you at the bottom!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.

He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.

The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.

Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.

If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.

He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because it truly was a blessing and a curse.

For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once gotten to your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.

Surprise is etched across your face as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open even further. “What the fu—”

“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.

“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.

Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. He hated the look you were giving him, the one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like one).

“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”

“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”

You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.

“He isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.

Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.

And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.

You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, his eyes scanning your bedroom.

A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding.

Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.

“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.

He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”

You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.

A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.

“I see you went shopping,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”

“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”

Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.

“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.

“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.

Your eyes flit away at that. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.

“I am what your heart truly desires,” he lowly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”

Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.

In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone now. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”

He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.

“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you huff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.

“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.

“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”

Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.

“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”

“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”

That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.

It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.

Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering on your hand. “So, so beautiful.”

Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.

Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.

“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.

Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.

He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”

“I know you, baby. That’s how.”

A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms over his broad chest, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”

His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.

“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.

Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that.

He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.

“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”

Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.

Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.

“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”

You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.

You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.

Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.

Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.

You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.

“No response for me?” he asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.

You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, and Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, and the sight of the pink fabric clothing your pussy is enough to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.

“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”

If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)

“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his glowing red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”

Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.

“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”

He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”

“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.

“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”

You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.

It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.

Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.

“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”

You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.

(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)

Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.

(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)

His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot of fabric.

Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the fabric down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.

He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.

“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.

You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.

A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.

Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”

You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.

“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”

“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”

Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.

“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”

As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.

“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”

When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.

Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.

(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)

One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”

Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.

Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.

Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.

“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”

You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyes beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.

Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.

That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”

Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.

“Such a needy little thing,” he purrs, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby.”

You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.

“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re gonna have to prove it, baby.”

Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.

“How?” you ask.

He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.

“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the fabric decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.

“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.

You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.

It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.

“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his cock, and your phone.

He snickers, and he flips you onto your stomach, his hands grasping onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”

“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.

Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.

“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just wanna show him how beneath it you are.”

Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.

“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.

On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”

“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”

Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.

“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.

He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.

“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”

“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”

“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.

You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.

“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.

“Mm, gotta go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.

“Sylus!” you scold.

He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”

You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.

Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”

Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”

You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.

He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.

“Sweetie?” he breathes out.

You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”

Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”

Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.

He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”

Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.

He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.

“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.

He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”

You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.

“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.

Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.

As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”

He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.

A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.

“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”

He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”

Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.

You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you into his arms without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.

Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers through her hair just as he used to.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.

“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.

As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.

You know it’s crazy to think about.

After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.

note: thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

#love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #sylus #lads sylus #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #sylus smut #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #lads #love & deepspace

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sylusjinwoon · 4 months ago

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{ 200 }

tender love and care.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

because you were labeled as sylus’s woman while here at the n109 zone, you were given several special privileges that made you just as powerful (if not, than more so) as sylus solely because you had such a man wrapped around your fingers.

you recall the date that marked your three month anniversary with him, where sylus gifted you a ruby, teardrop necklace with a matching ring as he told you the significance of his gift immediately,

“each time you walk out to explore the city and head out to work when i’m not around, these rubies will be a reminder to others that you are mine. that you’re under my constant protection, and should anyone dare to disturb your life, i’ll be there to teach them a lesson they shall never forget.”

even the memory of the passion in his voice, coupled along with the way he playfully bites down on your ring finger was enough to make you shiver in response.

the fact that you held his heart within the palm of your very hands filled you with a sense of unbidden joy, where you wanted to do nothing more than to litter his face with gentle butterfly kisses and shower him with the type of unconditional love he had been missing from his entire life.

and you had been with him ever since, never once regretting your decision to remain by his side.

currently, due to certain circumstances at work where several people had called out sick, you were forced to work a double shift. you did your best to cover for your missing coworkers as your supervisor gave you a grateful expression. once your shift ended later that evening, he allows you to take the rest of the week off as a thank you for all your hard work. despite the exhaustion you felt, you couldn’t ignore the undeniable happiness that courses through your veins.

as you step out of your workplace, you were immediately greeted by sylus. he was parked directly in front of your workplace building while leaning against his motorcycle. a grumpy expression was seen on his face, painting his handsome features in a scowl as the sight of it all made you giggle in response. all too eager to see him, you stop directly in front of him and allow his arms to automatically encircle around your form.

“i should kill that boss of yours for making you take over.” he growls into your ear, clearly upset. you tighten your arms around him in hopes of calming him down when you admit to him, “hey, there’s no need to be so grumpy. in fact, my boss was kind enough to give me the rest of the week off thanks to my hard work.”

upon hearing your words, sylus visibly relaxes, pressing a kiss against your lips before tossing you your helmet. it was specially designed in your favorite color, and you couldn’t help but smile at it for a moment as you held your helmet within your hands. sylus ends up donning his helmet first before getting on his bike, turning back to narrow his eyes at you, silently gesturing at you to get on.

with a playful roll of your eyes, you wear your helmet and get on behind sylus, wrapping your arms around his front. he places his hands over your folded arms, giving it a brief squeeze before revving up the bike and making its descent out into the city. knowing that he chose to take the scenic route back home, you take a moment to admire how brightly the city lights shone like gemstones beneath the moonlight. giggles were heard escaping from your parted lips, and oddly enough, sylus was able to hear the sounds of your laughter as he briefly gives your arm another squeeze with one hand before navigating expertly across the streets.

quite some time passes before you and sylus return to your shared penthouse apartment. he parks in his usual spot before taking off his and your respective helmets, holding them both in one hand while interlocking his fingertips with yours in the other. despite how you had been with him for close to two years now, your feelings never once went stale for him. you were just as in love and enamored with him as the first day, the day when you had just met him.

while riding the elevator with him to the top floor, you cuddled your body closer to his shoulder, earning a knowing smirk from him as he gives your hands a gentle squeeze in response. when you both finally reach the top floor, you watch sylus as he takes long strides toward the penthouse all while unlocking it with his key.

the moment you enter your shared home. you were immediately hit with the mouth watering scent of your favorite takeout, seeing it all spread out on the coffee table. you were so happy to enjoy all of your favorite foods with sylus that you couldn’t help but lean in to give him a chaste kiss.

“you’re spoiling me, my grumpy crow.” you tell him while framing at his face.

he scoffs before taking your hand, gently biting down against it with his crimson eyes twinkling with mischief and love for you, “anything for you, darling.”

sylus gestures at you to enjoy the meal first, moving to the side to place his keys on the counter along with storing your helmets. with your stomach growling, you take a box and dig in with your fork while settled on the couch, moaning at how delicious everything tasted. a few minutes later, sylus returns back to you with his arms crossed, clearly amused at the way you kept stuffing your face.

“how cute.” he hums before catching you off guard, choosing to pick you up from the couch as he settles you on his lap. your cheeks were felt heating up in response, yet still, you were comfortable enough to cuddle yourself even closer to his chest while continuing to eat.

you both enjoyed the rest of your late dinner, with you spoiling sylus by feeding him bites of your food and vice versa with him as well. by the time you finished your meal, you felt so full that you could barely move, choosing to land against him when sylus places the empty boxes and utensils on the table.

“what’s this? has my princess had her fill?” you cough at how suggestive he sounded, hiding your face within his shoulder as you playfully bit down against it. a low groan was heard coming from him, and you let out a soft, victorious laugh while telling him, “sy, i’m too tired and full to move… can you carry me?”

he feigns annoyance with a huff of your name, but doesn’t deny you of your wishes (he never could deny you). with a grunt, he stands back to his full height while carrying you in his arms, bridal style. you end up giggling profusely at the sensation, burying your head within his shoulder as he leads you to your shared bedroom and opens the door to the master bathroom.

setting you against the counter, sylus helps with taking off your clothes, leaving you bare for him as he does the same. you were given a moment to admire his delicious body, eyes tracing at the muscles that decorate the entirety of his godlike body. he sees your hungry stare and smirks before taking you in his arms once more. he begins to hum an unfamiliar turn, but you bask in this uncharacteristic softness exuding from the leader of onychinus (a side he only saves for you).

while keeping you in his embrace, he fills his luxurious, porcelain tub with warm water, adding your favorite scented bubbles within it before entering it with you. with his back settled against the tub, your own back was pressed against the front of his chest. you let out a soft moan upon feeling the hot waters surrounding you. the sensation of it coupled with the way sylus’s large hands began massaging at your shoulders was enough to make you practically melt against him.

you were dimly aware of his rich chuckles against your ear, dozing off against his gorgeous body. sylus works on washing your form while lathering your hair with shampoo, the sensation of it all earning a series of soft purrs from you.

“heh, is my kitten satisfied?”

you merely let out a hum in response, moving your head to the side as you allowed sylus to give the newly revealed skin of your neck a series of reverent kisses. once he was satisfied with cleaning you, rinsing your body free of any soap suds, he gets out of the bathtub while still holding you within his embrace.

never once does he leave your side. from drying your body with a plush towel, to helping you get into your sleeping clothes, sylus takes spoiling you with care to the next level. and by the time he reaches your shared bedroom while placing you in bed, you were already half asleep.

as you lay beneath the covers, body curled as you remained cuddled to him, sylus takes a moment to admire you. his long fingertips were felt brushing through your damp hair as he manages to capture a wet strand within his grasp, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss against it.

“i bet you have no idea what you do to me…” his gruff whisper was directed toward you, but it was clear that you were so deep in your slumber that you didn’t hear him. with a huff of your name, sylus reaches over his nightstand to pull out a tiny, velvet box. upon opening it, it would be revealed to contain your dream engagement ring.

as his gaze focuses on you, he takes a hold of your left hand with a hum, sliding the ring against your left ring finger before admiring it. a smirk paints his handsome expression when he leans closer to press a kiss against your ring.

“once you awaken… then you’ll know that my promises of forever has always been true and not simply a play on words. i hope you’re prepared to be mine, my darling love.”

and despite how you were in a deep sleep, sylus could have sworn he saw you smiling in response to his fervent promises of forever.

a.n. - don’t mind me, this is just a self indulgent mess that i need in my life. i love sylus so much;;; i need him so badly 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sylus x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x you #jin woon x you #jin woon x reader #lads sylus #lads x reader #lnds x reader #.stories

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7ndipity · 2 months ago

Text

BTS As Girl Dads

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how the members would each handle being girl dads

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! This got me soo in my feels, they’d all be such great dads(I may have gone a lil self indulgent but who cares lol). Obviously, some/most of these could also apply to any kid, regardless of gender, but for the sake of the Hc, we’re focusing on daughters

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

He’s honestly such a girl dad, argue with the wall

I totally see him wholly embracing the title and all the things that are typically considered ‘girly’, like pink and sparkles and all that

He would indulge every single one of her interests. She likes animals? They’re going to the zoo every weekend. She likes music? He’s signing her up for lessons for whatever instrument she’s into

I have this mental picture of them sitting on her bed together while he’s reading her bedtime stories, using all these silly voices and wearing one of her princess hats or something bc she insisted he needed for the character and just-😭

Yoongi:

Yoongi would be the softest girl dad ever, like she had him wrapped around her finger from day one. He took one look at her tiny little scrunched up face, that reminded him waay too much of his own expression when he’s annoyed, and he was a goner

I see him just sitting soo patiently while she gives him makeovers, wearing like three different pairs of clip-on earrings at the same time

He would really focus on teaching her to stand up for herself and makes sure she never takes any shit from anyone

He might come off a little stern sometimes, but it’s just because he worries and wants the best for her

Hobi:

Okay, Hobi as a girl dad might be one of my favorite headcanons, bc he’d be soo fucking sweet with them!

The tea party King. Like he shows up dressed in the most ridiculous outfits to make her giggle, and ready to talk imaginary gossip with her and any plushies that are joining them🤭

He would love shopping with/for her, constantly trying to find the coolest outfits or pieces for her, and they would definitely wear matching outfits when she was little(she would be the best dressed toddler ever, lol)

I also see him being quite protective of her at times, being super nervous/worried about her doing things like riding a bike for the first time or on her first days of school

Namjoon:

Omg Namjoon as a girl dad would be soo fucking protective. Like if someone does anything to hurt or upset her, they’re fucked

I see him loving daddy-daughter days out together, taking her to the park or museums or bookstores, really just wanting to indulge her curiosity and interests

Like Yoongi, he would really work to make sure she knows how to stand up for herself, as well as others

For all of his sternness tho, he would have the biggest soft spot for her, he’s 100% the type to let her have dessert before dinner or something bc she gave him puppy eyes

Jimin:

Omg he’s soo girl dad coded, like it’s not even funny(he literally confirmed that on that ep of “are you sure?” like 🥺)

He would treat her like a little princess, doting on her at every possible opportunity, buying her toys/clothes/treats, taking her on special outings, etc. If she wants something, he will do whatever he can do give it to her

He would not be able to stand seeing her in any sort of pain. Like even her just having a scraped knee would make him slightly misty-eyed, even tho she’s not upset/crying about it

I see them having lots of long talks about whatever’s on her mind. He would really strive to be her safe place to ask questions about anything, from school and friends to life and the future

Taehyung:

I see him being an amazing girl dad! He has this amazing, comforting dynamic with the girls that he’s worked with/is friends with, so I can only imagine how supportive he would be with his own daughter

He would be so indulgent in whatever she wanted. Ice cream before bed? Heck yeah, let him grab a spoon too. She wants a new plushie/toy even tho she just got one like yesterday? Well, the new one needs a friend, soo-

But he would still have his more stern/protective moments with her, just moreso in little ways like making sure she’s always wearing her helmet and elbow/knee pads, brushes her teeth, does her homework, etc

He would play along with all/any of their imaginary games, fully committing to the role(and adding waay too many silly death/fainting scenes bc they make her laugh)

Jungkook:

Junkook would absolutely adore a daughter. Like she would be his little princess and anyone/anything that upsets her will have to answer to him.

On the flip side of that protectiveness tho, he is so unbelievably gentle with her. As an infant, he handled her like she was made of glass, and as she grows up, he would always speak to her in a softer tone than he uses for anyone else

(Also dodon’t think about him singing her to sleep every night as an infant. Getting up with her in the middle of the night and walking her around the house, singing to her softly till she drifts back off to sleep in his arms)

He would love teaching her things and playing games with her(I totally picture him teaching her boxing in tiny and falling over all dramatic when she lands a hit, lol)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0ghol @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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teenidlegirl · 26 days ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ౨౿ ׅ ۟ ֪ 𝓒hapter 𝓕ive

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ military!miguel 𝓍 fem!neighbor!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the bond between you and miguel grows a little more as you two continue hanging out together. however, things from the past come back unexpectedly.

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, angst, pet names, swearing, backstories (since it’s an AU, george o'hara is a good step-dad in this), brief mention of divorce, mentions of cheating, hint of a crossover

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

getting off work early today was a surprise.

it was a quiet day at the office, not much interesting stories to cover which was very rare in new york. but what surprise you the most is jameson telling you can go home early today. probably the most generous thing he has ever done.

you didn’t question why or hesitate to leave, it was basically a blessing in disguise.

pulling up in the parking garage and parking in your designated spot, your eyes detect a familiar broad figure across the lot. they light up ever so slightly, a your lips subconsciously raised up in a tiny smile.

why not say hi to him? just super quick.

grabbing your purse and exiting your car, you make your way over to him. miguel is kneeling beside his bike, cleaning it with a black rag.

sensing someone approaching, miguel ups look and immediately smiles when he sees you. he worried it would’ve been that annoying neighbor jason from the 6th floor bugging about buying his bike. miguel would never, it’s his precious baby. a huge wave of relief hits him when he realizes it’s you.

he’s glad that it’s you.

miguel quickly takes out his earphones, the wires dangling over the collar of his shirt since he tucked them inside his shirt, and stands up, towering you.

“hey. how was work?” he asks while cleaning his hands with a different, clean rag.

“for once, great. i got off early.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah, it’s just strange because my boss never lets anyone off early but i’ll take it.” you chuckle softly.

“where do you work at again?” miguel recalls you’re a journalist back at the bar with your friends but can’t remember which company you work for.

“the daily bugle.”

“oh, now i see why it’s strange.” miguel chuckles, aware of the company’s, and jameson’s, reputation. “how long have you been writing for him?”

“three years and hopefully more to come.”

miguel smiles softly at your enthusiasm, how hopeful you seem for your future. the sight makes his heart warm. he hopes for more years to come as well.

“so, how long have you had this pretty thing?” you nod your head at his bike.

“7 years, it was birthday present to myself.”

you hum. “my dad used to own a red one.”

“really?” his brows raised up amusingly.

“yeah, it was his first baby but unfortunately had to sell it since he became a dad.”

“must’ve been hard but had to make the sacrifice.”

“he still misses it to this day. he still loves it more than his own damn kids.” you joke.

miguel chuckles at that. “it was a tough sacrifice.” he indulges in your joke. arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging through his shirt.

“it was.” you laugh. “he’s a big motorcycle fanatic, i think you two would get along well.” a tiny smirk plastered on your lips, arms crossed as well.

for some reason, the idea of meeting your dad seems amusing to him. miguel is curious to know your dad’s preferences and opinions. it would be nice to talk to someone with a similar interest. his buddies in the military aren’t the biggest fanatics nor owned bikes themselves but still managed to talk about them.

“i think so too, looking forward to it.” he mirrors your smirk, mimicking each other’s stance.

the amount of times this man has been able to make your heart flutter is insane yet you adore it.

“is your dad a motorcycle fanatic too?”

you watch his smirk falter a little. the amused expression turns into a solemn one. you recognize it from your last encounter. you notice that whenever you ask or mention his family.

“no, he isn’t.” miguel said solemnly. “he’s more into money and control.” he watches your brows furrowed, a sign for him to elaborate. “he’s a ceo.”

you hum lightly, acknowledging the given information. “which company?”

“the most famous company, alchemax.”

your brows raise in astonishment. “wow. well, he definitely is into money and control.”

you’re aware of alchemax’s reputation, one of the most successful companies in the country. the fact your neighbor is the son of the ceo amazes you. it was something you weren’t expecting.

miguel briefly smiles at your amusement before turning away, tossing the used rag in a small container then grabs the other he was using previously. “we were never close.” he crouches next to his bike and begins cleaning. “my step-dad is more of a fanatic.”

now it makes sense, his parents are divorced. you can’t help but feel sympathy for miguel.

“he owned a harley. i never liked harleys, i was more into yamaha and ducati.” miguel elaborates while cleaning his bike with the rug. “he taught me how to ride, how to clean, gave some tips and tricks.”

flashbacks of those days, george teaching a young miguel about motorcycles in the garage. iron maiden blasting through the stereo george had in the garage as he and miguel endorsed in father-son bonding. sometimes gabriel would join them, learning some information about motorcycles but never grew interested in them like his older brother.

those memories makes miguel smile, ever so slightly.

you remain silent, attentive to every word he says. you yourself imagine a little miguel learning about motorcycles with his step-dad. the domestic thought makes you smile as well.

“he taught me how to do my first wheelie, right in our neighborhood. my mom saw it and she was furious.” he softly chuckles at the silly memory.

you laugh as well. “did you get your ass whooped?”

“no, thankfully.” miguel chuckles. “she said i couldn’t do it again and gave my step-dad shit for teaching me. she was more worried than angry.”

“i don’t blame her.” you snort. “wheelies aren’t safe, especially doing it as a kid.”

he chuckles at your retorting words. “it isn’t a good childhood without busting your ass.”

“alright, fair point.”

you and miguel continue chitchatting when he cleans his bike. you’re in a middle of a sentence when your phone suddenly rings. grabbing it from inside your purse, your face drops at the number on the screen.

you recognize that number immediately.

the one phone number you deleted two years ago.

never thought you’d ever see it again.

your blood sudden goes cold as you stare at the number. phone vibrating in your hand as the ringtone echos through out the parking garage.

it can’t be… there’s no fucking way.

he swore to leave you alone…

he swore to never call you again. well… you demanded him to never call you again, delete your number just like you did with his. you were there when he deleted it, to make he did.

but… he kept it?… these two past years?

that lying, selfish son of a bitch.

the other option would be him redialing by memory.

miguel noticed the sudden silence from you, turning around to see your mortified expression staring at your phone. his brows furrowed. “everything okay?”

his voice makes you snap out of it, quickly blinking away the nasty feeling in your chest. “yeah, it’s fine.” quickly tapping the decline button, you shove your phone back in your purse as if nothing happened.

miguel’s brows furrowed more, confused by your sudden change in behavior. you seemed so mortified, it worried him. whoever that called you, you definitely did not want to answer. as if you were getting a phone call from a serial killer.

miguel did not like seeing you so terrified.

he wants to know who was calling you. should’ve taken a glance at the number so he could dial them himself. if it got you scared like that, miguel wouldn’t hesitate to track the caller ID. being part of the military includes hacking skills.

“are you sure? you seemed scared.” hint of concern laced in his tone.

“no, i’m fine.” you lie, shaking your head. “it was just a scam call, that’s all.” a fake smile painted on your face, concealing your freaking out state.

even if you sound genuine, miguel knows you’re lying. you didn’t stare mortified at your phone for a scam call. his concern level rises even more.

he’s about to ask again but you start walking away.

“luna’s waiting for me, see ya.” you flash him a half-hearted smile before rushing away, entering the apartment building, ignoring miguel calling after you but you keep going, never looking back.

a confused, worried miguel left in the parking garage. he wants to chase after you. he was literally packing away his stuff until he noticed you were long gone, completely out of his sight. vanished into the air like a ghost. his brows only furrowed more.

who the hell called you?

why did you seemed so terrified to answer?

it bothers miguel so much. an uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest. unable to feel relief until those questions are answered.

miguel desperately wants to head over to your apartment. but he figures you wish to be alone, left unbothered. the last thing he wants is to pry. it seems personal and miguel wants to respect that.

but that doesn’t stop the unease sensation bubbling inside him, consuming his body.

with a sad sigh, he finishes packing up and leaves.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

it’s been four days since that asshole called you.

you were scared he would call back but thankfully he didn’t. that fucker hurt you, why the fuck would he try to reconnect with you?

two years later? no mames güey.

work has been a distraction but also busy. jameson on everyone’s ass like always. one day you had to pick up eddie after his car broke down. he spilled the beans about him and anne have been talking. two old friends reconnecting in a slow process. it’s a great start for them, you wish them well.

after working endlessly, it’s your day off which means relaxing time. you take luna out on a walk around your block. it’s perfect weather for a nice walk out. rays of sunshine casting down on you from the vibrant sun, relishing the warmth. the sky cleared from clouds, only the gorgeous blue atmosphere.

the sunlight makes luna’s fur glow. a white fluff ball wandering around. her adorable little pink bows and matching leash. yes, you’re that type of pet owner who dresses up and stylize their pets. she’s your baby, you dress her up however you like.

as you’re heading back to your apartment building, a figure slowly approaches you.

you smell it… you smell him.

you know his signature scent from miles and miles away. that fucking cologne you adored. the intoxicating scent consuming your senses.

looking forward, your heart fucking drops.

no no no… it can’t be.

he can’t be here.

that son of a bitch who broke your heart. betrayed you with his disgusting behavior and lies. who pathetically begged you to not leave, said he needed you and couldn’t live without you.

why did he need you when he was fucking another woman? in your shared bed, not to mention.

you never forgot that night.

two years later, it still haunts you sometimes.

your blood suddenly goes cold, just like when you got that phone call the other day. his phone call.

clad in a basic black shirt and jeans. an outfit you loved seeing him wear. the asshole knew what he was doing. dressed up like that running back to you.

the asshole who hurt you.

joel fucking miller.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219

#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #military!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

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mountainsandmayhem · 10 months ago

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You’re Mine, Little Dove

(Joel Miller x Female!Reader) 18+

Summary: You’ve always loved walking at night, but an unexpected visitor goes from the most terrifying to most erotic night of your life.

TW: predator/prey dynamics, ropes, blindfolding, gagging, non consent, consensual non consent, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby girl etc.)

A/N: I can’t say much without giving anything away, but this scene has been so fun for me to write. I’m tagging @untamedheart81 @beboldbebravethings @rav3n-pascal22 and @spookyxsam since you 4 wonderful people had such amazing support for my last story. And because delulu is the solulu, I’m also tagging @swiftispunk and @thetriumphantpanda because they’re both incredible creators and I truly admire their work.

🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍

You’ve always loved the night, and since getting promoted at work walking in the dark has become your way of winding down. Your friends think you’re crazy, blabbing on about how it’s dangerous and you shouldn’t be out there alone. One even suggested buying really dark sunglasses and walking during the day. You all laughed at that as you sipped rosé, but it’s not the same. For one, the summer sun in Texas is way too hot most days, but it’s also too “peopley” during the day. You want the solitude and quiet that comes with the dark.

All day you’re interrupted and expected to do things outside of your lane. Take work for example, today you were asked to take meeting minutes for a meeting that the team you lead isn’t even a part of. You lead a team, and have an assistant of your own who takes meeting notes, doesn’t that team lead have an assistant who can do that?

Probably not. He’s an arrogant prick, you think to yourself. But he’s the boss's son so he gets away with it. And because of that, you agree. You always fucking agree. Always happy to help, never saying no.

Here in the night though, it’s just you. The night doesn’t ask you to do anything but sleep, which you will do after enjoying the cooler summer air on your skin as you wander through the park behind your house.

There’s also a slight edge of danger to it that entices you. The park is well-lit, but who knows what could happen in the darkness between the casts of yellow light from lamppost to lamppost. Those darker spots might be your favourite, just a few steps away from the safety of the light.

You stop in one of those dark spots, closing your eyes and tilting your head up to the sky, taking a big cleansing breath in.

Silence. Calm. Peace.

You hold your breath for a few seconds, silence ringing in your ears before you slowly exhale. Just before you open your eyes, two strong arms wrap around you. A hand clamps over your mouth, the other arm other snakes tightly around your waist, pinning your arms down with it.

Silence, calm, and peace, were quickly replaced with fear, terror, and panic.

A solid wall of a person leads you to the grassy, non-lit areas of the park and you realize you have never known fear before. The fun fear of a roller coaster or haunted house, yes; but never true heart-stopping fear. Your stomach drops and everything inside you is yelling to fight.

“Don’t scream, little dove.” A deep voice rumbles through you. If it wasn’t for his massive form holding you up, you’re sure you’d fall over.

This doesn’t happen here. This is a safe neighbourhood where you know all your neighbours. For a second you think it’s a joke, someone sneaking up on you that you know, but it’s almost midnight on a Wednesday. Who would be up at this point?

As he pulls you along your fear evolves into terror. You’re frantically trying to catch your breath through your nose as every happy memory floods through you. The sparkly pink bike you got when you were six. The first time you saw white sand and crystal clear blue waters. Watching your best friend get engaged. How proud your parents looked when you got promoted last year. What was the last thing you even said to your parents?

His strong frame forces you to the grass. He places a knee on your back, holding you down as he ties your hands with a scratchy rope. Your mouth is free as your forehead rests on the grass.

Scream. Now.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Why can’t you scream or at least look back at him to see who he is so you can describe him to the police?

Oh god, what if he doesn’t let you go?

Just as you open your mouth to try to scream again he gags you and then blindfolds you. You’re pretty sure it’s done with silk ties, but you really can’t be sure.

“Good job, little dove.” He coos in your ear as he helps you up. “You’ll be rewarded for keeping quiet.”

He leads you through more of the grassy fields. You try to map out which house you’re headed toward in your mind’s eye until you’re interrupted by the sound of crunching gravel under your shoes. You assume you’re in an alley or street as you hear the clicking of a car door.

Your overly conservative father's voice comes into your head. “You can’t go out dressed like that. Boys will get the wrong idea. You’re inviting them to take advantage of you.”

That was years ago. You’re an adult woman now, with a degree and a mortgage. You know your clothing isn’t an excuse for this man’s abhorrent behaviour, but maybe you should have changed from your denim skirt and tight black top.

As you hear the vehicle door open the panic begins. Your breath comes in shorter and shallower, and it feels like your heart is thumping in your throat. You’re sure your captor can hear it, or at least feel it through the skin of your bicep that he’s gripping so tightly. A whimper escapes you as he hoists you into a back seat and slams the door.

“Don’t cry, little dove.” He says from the front as he starts the engine. “It’ll only entice me.”

Fuck. Fuck. You’re dead. Or trafficked. How could you not have screamed?! You let him take you, but did you stand a chance either way? You could feel his chest on the back of your head when he grabbed you, he was probably a foot taller than you. His strong hand was large enough to practically cover your whole face. He was the predator…you were the prey.

You calm your breathing and focus on the turns the vehicle takes as it pulls out of your neighbourhood, not letting the tears fall, you refuse to give him that sort of satisfaction.

It feels like you’ve been driving for hours before you finally come to a stop. He hasn’t said anything from the front seat. No music played. As he turns off the car you can hear the sound of a garage door closing. You’re royally fucked.

The door near your feet opens and you scramble to the other side of the vehicle as your instincts to fight ignite. A strong hand grabs your ankle and pulls you forward. You kick blindly with your other leg, screaming through the silk that’s wedged between your teeth. He catches your other ankle, squeezing them both together with one hand and binds them together.

He hoists you over his shoulder and lays a hard spank across your ass, eliciting a squeal as the walls of your pussy clench a little. “Behave, little dove,” he says cockily. You can’t see him, but you know he’s smirking over how easily he overpowered you.

You try to say ‘fuck you’ through your gag.

“Oh, I intend to.” He says as he takes you inside and up the stairs.

He drops you down on a bed and undoes the gag. “Tell me your name.”

“Touch me again and I’ll rip your dick off.” You spit.

He chuckles a little while straddling you and lifting the hem of your shift, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. “I love it when my little doves talk dirty to me.”

He places light kisses along your skin and you squirm to try to get free, but his large frame has you trapped and your arms and legs are useless if they’re bound. A deep moan from his chest shoots straight to your core, sending a new wave of arousal as your body starts to betray you.

“You’re a fucking coward,” you say with as much hate as you can muster, trying to ignore the want that’s spreading through your traitorous body.

He lifts your shirt higher, exposing all the skin between your bra and denim skirt, continuing to place soft kisses and light nibbles along your skin.

“I only want to make you feel good, little dove.” He says in a husky whisper, “How does that make me a coward?”

God dammit he feels so warm against you. You push his soft lips and deep soothing voice out of your mind and focus back on the fear, terror and panic you felt earlier.

“Capturing someone in the night. Binding them. Real men aren’t afraid of the fight.” Taunting him is incredibly risky, but if you entice him enough he might untie you and you can fight like hell to get free. He couldn’t have taken you far.

His kisses cease. You almost let out a whimper of protest at him stopping. Are you this desperate for touch? You have a boyfriend.

“Is that what you think, little dove?” He shifts to be straddling your hips, leaning forward with both forearms on either side of your face. He brushes away some hair that has stuck to your lips. “That I’m not a real man?”

You can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach as you try to squirm free. “Yes, you’re fucking pathetic.”

His lips move to your neck. Wet kisses moving from your ear to your collarbone. You’ve always been a sucker for neck kisses and with sight being taken away, your sense of touch seems heightened. Shit, his lips feel good and at this proximity, you catch a faint smell of leather and cedar. He trails his tongue back up before gently biting your earlobe.

Fuck, a small shiver runs down your back and your breath hitches as you squeeze your thighs together.

“I’ll make you a deal, little dove,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “If you can keep your breathing steady for the next 5 minutes, I’ll untie you and remove the blindfold.”

You feel dizzy by the closeness and gentleness of him. “And if I can’t?” You breathe.

“If you can’t…I’ll untie your ankles and remove the blindfold. I have a feeling you have beautiful eyes.”

You swallow hard, contemplating your options. He kidnapped you. He doesn’t have your consent to any of this, but based on the wetness that is now coating your thighs, your body doesn’t seem to get the same message.

You take a deep breath before saying, “Deal.”

Before the word has fully left your lips, he’s ripped your tank top completely open. His fingers work the front clasp on your bra as he whispers that he’s sorry about your shirt and starts placing hungry kisses down your neck. Your breasts are completely exposed to him, the cool air turning your nipples into stiff peaks.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He says as he cups both your breasts. His tongue swipes along the left nipple as his thumb caresses the smooth skin underside of the right one.

You remind yourself that he kidnapped you and try not to let your body and breathing betray you, but your thighs squeeze tighter for relief and your mind is swimming.

His tongue swipes harder before he moves over to the right one, sucking it into his mouth and rolling the other between his fingers.

He’s playing you like a fiddle. How does he seem to know exactly what you like?

He releases your nipple with a pop before gently blowing cool air on it. He latches back onto the left one, swirling with his tongue and your hips involuntarily buck forward as your breath stutters.

“Good girl, little dove.” He says with a low growl, coming back up to be face to face. “Looks like I win. Your hands stay tied, but I’ll free your ankles and take off the blindfold.”

His minty breath hits your nostrils. Fuck, my hands!! How could you have forgotten about your hands? Shit. You can’t believe you let this monster make you feel good.

He slips the blindfold off and you blink a few times, adjusting to the dimly lit room and taking in the man on top of you. Fuck, monster he is not. His curly dark hair is pushed back and you can see some salt and pepper around the temples. He has patchy facial that you couldn’t even feel when he was kissing you, he was being much more gentle than you thought. He’s handsome and rugged…if anything, this man is your type.

“I was right,” he says, his deep brown eyes staring right into you. “You do have beautiful eyes.”

Now that he sees you as a person, you might be able to elicit some sympathy.

“P-please let me go.” You say, holding in tears.

He tilts his head to one side, a small smile revealing a dimple that makes you melt a little. “Let you go? We’ve only just started, little dove.”

The fear starts to come back again as he shifts to untie your ankles. “Please don’t do this.”

He kisses up your thighs and speaks between kisses. “Sshhhh…let me make you feel good and then you can go home.”

You should kick or flail or do something, you had your best chance just seconds ago, but his warm, soft kisses had you too distracted. You start to think this man wouldn’t actually hurt you. But he is hurting you by forcing you to be here in the first place, isn’t he?

You look down at him to see him lying beside you, head propped in one hand near your hip as the other trails up and down your legs. His features are soft, eyes wholly focused on the tiny goosebumps he’s leaving on his skin. His hand slips between your thighs and tries to part your legs, you’re suddenly unsure if you’re squeezing them together to ease the throbbing of your clit or out of fear.

“Open your legs for me, little dove.” He says as he kisses the tops of your thighs.

You shake your head as the tears you were holding in roll down your cheeks. He’s right near your knees now, you could draw one up into his jaw, but those big chocolate eyes are looking up at you so lovingly.

He get up, walks towards the end of the bed and grabs your ankles. Like the flip of a switch, his look turns harsh and angry before he pulls you to the edge of the bed. Your skirt hikes up around your waist from the motion and he licks his lips as he wedges his body between your knees, spreading you apart enough for him to see you glistening for him.

“Tsk, tsk.” He says while shaking his head and lowering himself slowly between your legs. “Walking alone at night, in this little skirt with no panties?”

He lowers himself between your thighs and you begin to realize just how broad he is as your leg muscles cry out from the stretch. The rest of the room comes into view. There are handcuffs and ropes, along with paddles and whips hanging on the wall. There was no escaping this man, and your curiosity is peaked by the ropes you notice around the bed frame.

“Perhaps you’re not a little dove after all.” He taunts, looking at your wide eyes as they take in the room. He’s going to take what he wants from you and you barely fought it. You’re enjoying his words and touches, even more so now that you see how incredibly handsome he is.

“Please.” You whimper, making eye contact with your captor. Though you aren’t sure if it’s a plea to stop or keep going.

“You look even more gorgeous spread out for me like this. So wet. And warm.” He’s looking at your cunt like it’s the newest wonder of the world. “Doesn’t look like she has gotten the attention she needs lately. Does your boyfriend not know what he’s doing?”

His warm breath hits your core as he speaks, sending waves of warmth from the base of your spine out to your fingertips.

“He….” you aren’t sure what to say. You love your boyfriend, “he does. He just isn’t…skilled.”

A gentle kiss is placed on your mound, right above the spot that’s aching for attention. “Poor baby. Do you need me to take care of it, little dove?”

You clamp your eyes shut. You shouldn’t. This is wrong. But your traitorous pussy has other plans and you very quietly whisper yes.

His mouth is on your before you can even process what you just agreed to. A flat, wet tongue laps from your entrance to your clit a few times before he sucks your clit into his mouth. He groans deeply as he tastes you, sending a rumble straight through you. You cry out loudly and arch your back, pushing yourself into him.

“Good girl.” He says before doing it again. “I want to hear you enjoy it.”

His mouth continues to keep you on edge. Rotating between licking and sucking, adding pressure until you start breathing heavily and then easing up. You’re right on the edge, but he’s not letting you over.

“Please. Please let me come.” You beg.

He stops, looking at you with a cocky smirk, revealing that fucking dimple again. “That boyfriend of yours has been mistreating you, little dove. So worked up.”

You let a whine when he stops and begs some more. “Please. You feel so good.”

He slams two fingers deep inside of you. You’re so wet that it happens with ease and when he curls his fingers forward, right to that spongy part, you start to feel like your bones are dissolving.

“F-fuuuuuck,” you gasp.

His tongue begins to flick against your clit again, gently at first as he works you with his fingers. You can feel your arousal dripping down his hand and pooling under your ass. He starts applying more pressure with his tongue and you know that he’s going to make you come. Hard. And with your hands still tied behind your back you won’t be able to push him away when you become too sensitive. Too overly stimulated.

“Come on my little dove,” he says between licks. “Show me how good this feels.”

Your orgasm hits with a force you have never felt before. Electricity feels like it courses through your entire body and you scream out to the room, legs shaking as you cover his hand and mouth with your arousal. He doesn’t let up, sucking and licking as your orgasm feels like it lasts forever. Finally, you can’t take it anymore and you try to roll away.

“S-Stop. S’too much,” you gasp. “Please.”

He pulls his fingers from you, pinning your hips down with his forearm making you a prisoner to his tongue. He’s going to make you come again.

“I can’t,” you huff as you try to escape.

“Ssh, little dove. You can take it.” He keeps sucking and licking your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your body starts to shake, the word no escaping your lips over and over. You mean yes, but this man is overwhelming you with pleasure in a way no one ever has before, and you don’t know if you can take it.

He moans against you as he sucks, that same rumble from earlier, it consumes you and that’s what does it. You come again, grinding shamelessly against his face as he smiles up at you.

“Good girl. Fuck, I am going to ruin you for every other man. No one is going to make you come as hard, or as much as I will. Roll over.”

The fact that he’s taken you against your will is not even in your mind as you slide back into the bed to roll over. He pulls you up so your knees are resting right on the edge, fully on display for him.

“Such a perfect little pussy. And a perfect girl. Being so good for me.” You hear his belt and jeans hit the floor. Glancing back you see him naked from the waist down, pumping his cock in his hand. Your eyes widen at the size of him.

“No. It’s not gonna….I can’t do it.” You crawl up the bed to get away, laying flat on your stomach.

He climbs up behind you and hitches one of your legs up before aligning himself with your soaked entrance.

“Relax, little dove,” he whispers in your ear before gently kissing your neck. He pushes himself into you and you tense up at the size of him.

“You need to relax, baby girl.” He says deeply, “Take a deep breath. You can do this.”

You do as he says, looking over your shoulder at him and breathing deeply.

He pushes into you more, not breaking eye contact. “Good girl. Make room for me.”

He’s stretching you almost to the point of pain but you listen and breathe. The more relaxed you are the better it feels. There can’t be much more left for him to get inside of you.

“Almost there. You’re such a good little dove. One more breath baby.” Finally, you feel his hips pressed against your ass. He stays still for a second and you grind back into him.

“Fuck, stay still for a second. You’re so tight.” He gasps. Pride fills you that this big man can be brought to pieces by just the tiniest wiggle of your ass.

He takes a few breaths this time before he starts to move. He starts slow. Moving halfway out and then back in a few times. You need more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Please. Ruin me for other men like you promised.”

A hard smack lands on your ass cheek before he pumps in and out of you. He’s rough with you now, grabbing your hair and pounding as deep as he can after pulling out to the tip.

“You won’t be able to walk for a week.” He grunts before releasing your hair and spanking you again.

It’s euphoric. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. You arch your back more and he lays another slap across your ass.

“You’re not a little dove are you?” He growls as he fucks you.

“No,” you breathe. Barely able to form a thought.

“Tell me what you are.” He says, slapping your ass again.

“I’m yours. I’m your desperate, cock loving little dove.” It comes out as a whine, your orgasm growing closer.

He doesn’t stop pounding into you. “Fuck. That’s my good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

You can feel your arousal soaking the sheets below you, and hear the squelching as he fucks into you. You arch your back again so he can brush against that spot you love so much. He reaches under you, rubbing tight little circles on your clit.

“Oh….f-fuck.” You coo.

“Yea?” He taunts, “You like that? My rough fingers on your beautiful little cunt?”

His words send another rush of arousal to your core, this is wrong. You shouldn’t like this, but you’re not sure you’ll survive if he stops what he’s doing.

“N-no. Fuck you.” You try to sound mad but it hits his ears in breathy moans.

“My perfect girl.” He taunts, “Come on my big cock. Squeeze me with that tightly little pussy.”

Your vision blurs as you start to gush all over him. Your whole body tenses as wave after wave of pleasure consumes you, moaning and squealing like a woman possessed. Your legs shake so hard that you feel like you’re in the middle of an intense gym session. Slowly you gain control of your body again and he’s right, you’re ruined for all other men.

“Good fucking girl,” he says as he pulls out and climbs up the bed. “You’re so hot. Open your mouth for me, little dove.”

He pumps himself over you as you roll on your back and open your mouth. His strokes and breathing become erratic as warm ropes of come hit your tongue and face. He lets out a deep moan as he covers you.

He leans in a kisses your lips, not caring about the come on your chin or cheeks, the biggest smile crossing his face.

“Let me get you a face cloth, babe.” He says with a little laugh.

“Thank you, Joel.” You say with a wink. “And please untie me, my hands are asleep.”

He laughs, “I would, but I’m just your unskilled boyfriend now.”

He gently wipes off your face before reaching back and untying your wrists. He kisses them gently before laying back on the bed. “Was that ok?”

You curl into his arms. “It was perfect, baby.”

“Are you sure?” He squeezes you reassuringly. “You seemed genuinely scared a few times.”

“I told you I was in theatre in high school.” You laugh to yourself.

He chuckles deeply as he rubs your back. “I don’t think all of that was acting…”

You glance up to see him smiling at the ceiling, clearly very proud of himself for making you come so hard. “True, I think we need to change the sheets.”

Another gentle kiss lands on your forehead. “I love you.”

“You too, Joel. Very much.”

———————————————

Tags: @wannab-urs

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedrohub #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader

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zablife · 4 months ago

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Ask Me Why I'm Like This

Johnny Davis x female reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Summary: After Benny leaves you questioning your life choices, Johnny is there to pick up the pieces.

A/N: This is in response to @semperamans's amazing fic about toxic!Benny. The thought of providing the reader with some loving aftercare from Johnny wouldn't leave my mind so I hope you don't mind that I ran with the idea, darling!

The phone only rings this late at night with bad news, someone's in hospital or jail, but regardless Johnny answers because as club president it's an indication he's needed somewhere. When the caller doesn't immediately identify themselves he takes a deep breath, the whimpers and shaky breathing on the other end of the static filled line telling him everything he needs to know.

"What's wrong, baby doll, hmm? Tell Johnny," he hums to you gently, finger stroking the receiver as he might your delicate cheek if only you were standing in front of him now. He's well aware if he doesn't take care in this moment, you'll give up and slam the phone down and that's the last thing he wants.

"I saw B-b-benny..." you stutter before breaking down again.

His hand slides down his face as he remembers he was the one to tell you Benny had returned, practically encouraging your return to the kid’s doorstep.

"Where are ya?" he asks over the sounds of your muffled cries. "You know I'll come," his deep voice promises in a slow, steady rhythm.

His fist clenches tightly at his side as he waits for your reply because it's times like these he could throttle Benny for his carelessness. Johnny tries to steel his mind and yet he still imagines you running from the safety of the telephone booth. He pictures you stumbling into the darkened street in a thin nightgown, weak and vulnerable. It isn't hard because this isn't the first time he's had to find you in the middle of the night after Benny's wetted his dick.

"M-montrose," you sniffle.

"Okay, stay there," he instructs. "You don't move, alright?" he adds for good measure.

"I w-won't move," you repeat back to him through hiccuped sobs.

Twenty minutes later, Johnny's bike is roaring toward you, his eyes wild with fear. You amble toward him as if in a dream, waiting for your knight in shining armor.

He brushes the fringe from your forehead, as he asks, "You okay?"

You nod as he helps you climb onto the bike, arms finding a comfortable spot low on his abdomen instinctively. "There's my girl," he coos before driving off into the twilight.

The cold clutch of your fingers against his stomach bothers him despite the lingering heat of the day. Johnny wonders if it hadn't been a bad idea to introduce you to Benny after all if this was going to be the aftermath.

When he parks the bike in front of the house, he has to help you from the seat, your exhausted body still trembling. "You don't look so good," he blurts before he catches himself.

"M fine," you mutter, heading toward the house and he rushes to catch up, gathering your bowing body under his strong arm. Scooping you up, he carries you up the flight of steps, suggesting a bath to calm your nerves.

That's not the real reason, of course. With your body pressed so tightly against him, he can smell Benny on you and feel the sticky remnants when his hand brushes the backs of your thighs. He grits his teeth when he thinks of Benny's selfishness, especially after the constant reminders that bordered on threats. "Wear a rubber, kid. Don't want you ruinin' her life, you understand?"

As your head rolls into Johnny's shoulder with a drowsy little yawn, he knits his brow, wondering if this scene will replay itself in the fall over a child Benny will want nothing to do with. But Johnny's eyes soften at the corners, the beginnings of a smile lighting his face as he thinks of his hand being the one to rest protectively over your stomach.

The daydream is fleeting, no use borrowing trouble when all you need is the steaming hot water filling the large tub in his bathroom. He busies himself with finding items for you, a soft towel and one of his worn t-shirts.

Your toes sink into the plush bathmat, giggling at the baby pink Betty must have chosen long ago. Johnny doesn't notice, or maybe he thinks it's his knuckles brushing softly against your ribcage as he slips your nightie over your head. Whatever it might be, neither of you consider your nakedness as you slip into the water with a hiss. What you have with Johnny is far too comfortable for anything resembling modesty.

That's why it surprises you when Johnny turns his head, muttering something about making a pot of coffee. "It'll sober ya up," he decides with a nod, turning to leave you in the froth of too many bubbles.

“M not drunk,” you protest, small hand darting out to paw at the leg of his trousers. “Just need somebody to hold onto," you confess, reddened eyes and puffy lips staring up at him like he's your whole world.

And he can’t ignore that, your plea for comfort within the safety of his arms. Without another thought, he’s undressing and sloshing water onto the floor as he seats his hulking body behind you. "I'm here. You're not alone," he tells you, caging your body between his muscular thighs.

You rest your head against his chest with a sigh, fingers searching his beneath the soapy water. When you’ve locked hands you whisper, “I never meant it to happen like this, I swear. But you always take such good care of me. Don't know why I didn't come here in the first place...”

Johnny can hear the catch in your throat before he hushes you, placing a kiss to your temple as he feels his cock stirring. Why do you have to be so goddamn sweet at a time like this, he wonders? It makes him want to ravish you, but that’s the last thing he should be thinking about after Benny’s had his.

He tries to displace the thoughts, but they return with a vengeance as soon as he takes up a sponge and lathers it. Stroking along your exposed arms, then down the valley of your breasts. He can’t help but notice how you drop your knees open for him as he draws closer to your core, heart thundering against your back as he wonders if he should be the one to clean the mess Benny's left.

You reach a hand behind you deftly, landing at the base of his neck with little effort and you begin stroking your nails along the shorn hairs, feeling them prick against you with every passing sweep.

As he draws figure eights against your delicate folds you moan softly into his chest hair, the exquisite feeling pulling high pitched whimpers from you. "D-don't stop," you beg as his calloused fingers finish what he's begun, knowing the friction against your inner wall will be too delicious to stop now.

You come with his name on your lips, melting into him as your orgasm washes over you like the waves of lukewarm water lapping against the side of the bath. It isn't nearly what Johnny craves, but he accepts tonight is about you and your needs, especially as he notices how droopy your eyelids have become.

He shifts beneath you, resting your chin on the ledge as he drains the tub. Lifting you out in one swift motion, he drapes you in downy softness, the scent of him encircling you like a bulwark.

"M tired, Johnny," you mumble against his neck and he wastes no time laying you across his bed, dressing your limp body like a rag doll before tucking you beneath the covers. He places a kiss to your cheek as he turns out the light, sliding in beside you to cradle you against his warmth.

Just as he thinks you've drifted off, your small voice cuts through the silence. "Why am I like this?" you whisper, lips grazing his collarbone.

"Like what?" he asks, trying not to bob his chin which rests lightly atop your head.

"Fucked up....lost..." you mutter in confusion, bottom lip teetering between your teeth precariously.

Johnny finds your cheeks, pinches them between his thumb and forefinger as he brings your face up to meet his eyes which have only just adjusted to the dark. "You're not lost when you're here with me," he reminds you and that thought calms you instantly.

Wrapping an arm around his waist you drift off into the most peaceful sleep you've had in weeks.

-------------------

Read the epilogue here

#the bikeriders #the bikeriders fanfiction #Johnny Davis fanfiction #Johnny Davis x reader #Johnny Davis #Tom hardy #Benny Cross fanfiction #Benny Cross x you #Austin Butler

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scar-crossedlvrs · 1 year ago

Note

Older Leon you say? 🫣🫣🫣🫣

How about RE6 Leon coming to get you after your lectures ends, just imagine him leaning on his bike with his arms crossed, and when you call out to him he has the biggest smile while calling you baby. 😩😩😩😩 Leon then takes reader out on a date on his bike (assignments? Nahh those can wait, a date with that sexy old man is more important.)

Leon S. Kennedy -

imagine being able to title things. couldn’t. be me.

This was too sweet, I’m too soft for this man. Anyway, while this was intended for an age gap i 100% believe it doesn't have to be because you can go to school at any point in your life <3, sincerely a college student in her l8 twenties. I'm also super aware that finals season is pretty much over for everyone, but like?? it made sense in my head to focus on it?

cw for implied age gap. gentle reminder that all of my works sfw or not are intended for 18+ audiences.

You couldn’t help but struggle to pay attention to the exam in front of you. Everything was too loud, the clock ticking on the wall, the sound of fellow students scribbling answers on their own exams, the loud breathing of the person sitting next to you. All of it kept you from actually focusing on the questions in front of you.

But what bothered you more than the noise, was the radio silence of your phone. It had been quiet all morning. He was supposed to be coming home today, and apparently he hadn’t even the mind to send you a good luck text.

Rude.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you forced yourself to pay attention to the task at hand. You had to at least try and pass this final. Scolding him would have to come after, while you were studying for the second and final test of the day. Before too long, you’re scribbling answers down with only a slight tinge of uncertainty.

You finish just in time, turning in your exam and escaping the stuffy lecture hall in a hurry. You didn’t stop until you stepped out the main doors of the building and into the bright midday sun.

You notice the bike first, parked on the curb. The sleek black Ducati that you’d recognize anywhere. A smile curls at your lips as you spot the owner, his back facing you with arms crossed and head hanging low. Despite that, you’d recognize those leather clad shoulders anywhere.

“Leon.”

Your voice rings out across campus and you can see the man shift from his spot against the bike. Head snaps up, his tired eyes turning to see you jogging towards him. You can see the smile tugging at his lips as he pushes off the bike, moving around it to meet you as you approach.

“There you are, baby. Sorry I lost my phone at work.”

So he hadn’t forgotten

Arms wrap around your waist as you reach up to kiss him, the annoyance from earlier slipping your mind as you press your lips to his.

“You know, you’re giving off creepy old man vibes, right.” you tease softly, “Hovering around a college campus like this.”

“There’s nothing creepy about just wanting to see you.” he shrugged casually, letting go of you to reach for the helmet on the back of his bike and holding it out to you, indicating that he wanted you to leave with him. Eying it hesitantly you shake your head.

“Lee I’ve got an exam in two hours.”

“So?” His words are punctuated by silence as he urges the helmet into your hands.

“So I need to study, and from the looks of it you need to sleep.” you finally say, trying to push the helmet back towards him.

“I can sleep later, let me help you study over some lunch.”

You pause for a moment before your hands close around the motorcycle helmet. “Fine, but if I’m late you’re paying for the class next semester when I have to take it again.”

Triumphant, he doesn’t say anything more as he mounts the bike. You slip the helmet over your head, settling behind him with your arms wrapped snugly around his waist as you pulled yourself close to his back.

Some nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you weren’t going to be doing a lot of studying.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #tea writes things

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melon-fodder · 4 months ago

Text

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: college setting, fem-bodied reader, mentions of a toxic ex, stalking, reader is Matsumoto’s stepsister, shorter reader, clothing described, first meetings, cunnilingus, reader is in a vulnerable place okay, we aren’t judging, dirty talk, reader’s pussy described as “pretty”, “sweet”, “chubby”, Hiragi’s POV

Note: this will either be a fun standalone or part of a bigger project. It depends on the flow as I keep writing more. For now, I hope you enjoy this intro~

Is this Hiragi? I’m Yodai’s sister. He said I could call you if I need help on campus.

Hiragi reads the text message a couple times, wondering if this is an introduction or a cry for help, but before he can ask, three dots show up beneath the first message.

I think my ex is stalking me.

Well, that answers that. Straight and to the point.

Getting up from his seat, Hiragi grunts to his curious friends, “somethin’ came up,” then strides out of the café and to his bike.

Yeah it’s me. Library right?

He doesn’t wait for a reply, just shoves his helmet over his head before pulling out of his parking space. The university campus is only a few minutes away, but that’s more than enough time for some creep to climb the steps and corner someone in a dark alcove—specifically his good friend’s sister.

There are only a few cars in the lot, late night studiers or maybe profs trying to get shit ready for tomorrow. It’s a little past nine, and most of the lights of the main building are turned off.

Yeah, how’d you know?

Your bro told me you work there. Omw up now.

He takes the concrete stairs two at a time, easy considering how long his legs are, all the while scanning his surroundings. There isn’t anyone lurking in the shadows that he can see, but who knows who might be sitting in one of the cars outside?

The glass doors aren’t locked even though they probably should be, so Hiragi is able to walk right in, scanning each sign—lab, tutoring—until he reads ‘Library’ and follows the arrow pointing down the corridor.

It’s dim inside, the only light source coming from the lamps that hang over the checkout counter, and underneath, bathed in their soft glow, is a single figure.

Hiragi clears his throat, and you nearly fall out of your chair, “Jesus—” eyes wide with panic when you spot him.

“Just me,” he assures. Like that’ll do anything. It’s not as if the two of you have ever met before. You only know of each other because of Matsumoto.

Your voice is a little shaky as you take in a few deep breaths and question, “Hiragi?”

He nods, moving slowly toward the counter so that he doesn’t scare you even more, knows he doesn’t exactly look welcoming in his leather jacket and ripped pants, not to mention the fading bruise on his cheekbone.

He’s surprised at the fact that you don’t look any more inviting than he does. From what Hiragi can see, you’re dressed in a dark t-shirt partially covered by a rolled up flannel, and your hair is tied into two messy buns. Your lips look bright but raw, like you’ve been chewing on them, and there’s smudged makeup around your puffy eyes.

Stop staring.

You don’t look like you should be working in the college library; you look like you should be making drinks in a dive bar or at some no-name punk show. You look like the type of girl Hiragi might try to impress.

Not that it matters. He’s here for one thing: keep you safe as a favor to your brother.

“Thanks for coming,” you finally sigh, sliding out of your chair and bending down to grab your bag from under the counter. “I know this must seem so lame, but I swear I’ve seen Yuki’s car pass by, like, six times.”

“Not lame,” Hiragi tries. “Dude sounds like a creep from what Matsumoto’s told me.”

“Creep doesn’t even do it justice,” you mumble, slinging the old backpack over your shoulder then reaching to turn off the row of hanging lights. “Fucking psycho is more accurate.”

Yukinari Arima—Hiragi was already a little familiar with the guy just because of previous scuffles. When he heard his friend’s sister was dating him, he was a little caught off guard. Matsumoto has been the fun-loving type for as long as Hiragi’s known him, but letting his sister hook up with someone like Arima? Definitely not in his character.

“I’ve tried to get her to break up with him, but all she does is call me a hypocrite and shut me out.”

“She came home cryin’ again today. Wonder what that fuck-ass did this time.”

“If he ever lays a hand on her, I swear to God I’ll kill him.”

Hiragi gets it. He understands being protective over the people he cares most about.

And when you round the corner in your scuffed up Converse, tighter-than-hell leggings, and smile up at him— “seriously, I really appreciate this, Hiragi,” —he can easily see how you bring out that big brother instinct in his friend.

“Not a problem,” Hiragi shrugs. You lock the doors from the inside with an Allen wrench, and he tries not to not to admire the shape of your ass as you walk around. He usually doesn’t notice things like that when first meeting a girl, but the subtle sound of your leggings swishing with every step draws his attention without his permission.

Fuck’s sake, dude. She’s Matsumoto’s sister. Don’t be an idiot.

“I owed him a favor anyway,” Hiragi adds. You peer at him suspiciously while you both make your way out of the building.

“And, I’m that favor?”

Your eyes are still a little red from what must have been your crying earlier, but they still twinkle with something a little playful.

Trouble.

“Guess you could say that.”

You laugh quietly, but it dies when you reach the parking lot and your focus shifts to your surroundings. There’s nothing but a few parked cars, Hiragi’s bike, and some litter that the wind catches and pushes along the ground.

A dog barks in the distance, startling you, and you actually squeak when Hiragi puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Easy. M’not gonna let anything jump at you.”

A shaky breath leaves your chest and you steel yourself, apparently believing him, and walk the rest of the way to your car with a little more confidence. It’s a little hatchback, nothing modded except for the speaker system that starts blasting as soon as you turn your keys in the ignition.

“Not in that headspace anymore,” you mutter, the familiar rock song fading when you quickly twist the knob.

“I’ll follow behind to make sure he isn’t tailin’ ya,” Hiragi says.

A laugh gets caught in your throat, and he matches your expression—curious, eyebrows raised— “you, a scary guy, are gonna follow me home… to make sure another scary guy… isn’t following me home?”

“I—” Hiragi pauses. Doesn’t make much sense when you put it like that, but still. “Gotta pick your poison, I guess.”

You nibble on your lip again, now sitting in your driver’s seat while looking up at Hiragi from below. The thoughts that churn in his head are… weird. Not like him.

Matsumoto really should have warned him about how damn pretty you are.

“Fine. But only ‘cause I’ll need you to know where I live if he ever shows up there.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me,” Hiragi chuckles.

Your expression turns serious again, voice a little sad when you tell him, “you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to justify these last couple years.”

Fair. You probably haven’t had a guy, aside from Arima or your brother, anywhere near your home in a while, and your ex doesn’t seem the type to appreciate other men spending time with you.

Hiragi doesn’t know what to say to that. The only response he can come up with is an honest, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He watches in absolute horror as tears well up in your eyes, but you turn toward the windshield and away from him before things can get too awkward.

Jesus, when’s the last time a dude was nice to you?

“It’s not far from here,” you state. “I’ll drive slow.”

Hiragi will be able to keep up no matter how you drive, but he doesn’t bother saying so. He’ll just follow your lead.

Student housing is not what Hiragi expected you to be living in. Small, modest, cheap. At least it’s not shady, though, many of the unit lights still on inside.

“I tried to tell my stepdad that dorms were fine. Not like I need a lot of room, but he said I deserved privacy,” you say as you walk with Hiragi to your front door. “It was probably a blessing. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle all the eighteen-year-olds.”

He’s not planning on going inside, just wants to make sure you get in safely, but you pause after unlocking your door and ask, “do you mind sitting with me for a sec? I’m just… I don’t know. Nevermind.”

“I can stay,” Hiragi answers. “It’s okay to be kinda shaken up. Break up wasn’t long ago, was it?”

He follows behind you, crosses the threshold, no idea what he’s getting himself into.

“We did the on again off again shit for a while. The final split was a couple months ago, but it wasn’t until he found out I was moving that he started getting…”

“Scary?” he offers.

You nod. “Texts and calls from burner phones. His friends conveniently popping up around town. And I swear I keep seeing his stupid car everywhere. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“What kinda car does he drive?”

Rolling your eyes you describe his Nissan as ‘obnoxiously loud’ and ‘modded to hell and back’. “It’s hard to miss.”

Hiragi stays in his place against the door, not wanting to impose. He glances around at the parts of your apartment that he can actually see—beige walls, wood flooring, small couch that doesn’t look broken in yet. The tiniest kitchen he’s ever seen is tucked into a corner, a ladder off to the side that leads up to what’s probably your sleeping space.

It feels cramped to be honest. Decent for a single college girl who spends more time on campus, but Hiragi feels more and more claustrophobic the longer he stands here. Then again, the tightness in his chest might have nothing to do with the apartment and everything to do with the way you’re staring at him.

He can’t read your expression entirely. There’s curiosity there, and… appreciation, he thinks. Admiration?

Attraction. That’s it.

You’re attracted to him.

Which really does not bode well considering Hiragi has been struggling to keep his eyes to himself.

“I have a weird question,” you state, and he swears his heart drops into his already upset stomach. “It’s embarrassing and cringey, but I figure I’ve already made myself look like some stupid girl who can’t defend herself and—” You ramble, and he lets you, watching you get flustered all by yourself before you finally blurt, “do you think I’m pretty?”

Hiragi blinks.

“Sorry. It’s just been a long time since anyone—and you’re a guy, so I feel like you can make that judgment ‘cause I don’t know, I just don’t feel like—”

“Definitely.”

You stop mid-sentence (was that even a sentence?) and get all doe-eyed again.

“Yeah?”

Damn, Arima really did a number on you.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t really say anything since your brother would kick my ass—or he’d try to—but,” he stalls, distracted by the vulnerability that’s been etched into you. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and I might have to show ya how pretty I think you are.”

He’s not sure where that last part came from. Absolutely did not mean to say it out loud, but now it’s there, and he can’t take it back, and this is not how Hiragi expected this night to go.

You’re slow to smile, like you’re still a little in shock, but when your lips start curling they don’t stop until you’re grinning sideways at him.

“Better be careful saying things like that to a girl like me.”

Hiragi pushes off the door, takes one long step to stand directly in front of you. You’re a good bit shorter than him, enough that he has to tilt his head downward to keep eye contact, but it’s cute the way you have to crane your neck to look at him.

“Yeah? What kinda girl is that?”

Fuck. Fuck. He isn’t supposed to want you. He told Matsumoto he would keep you safe from the pervy assholes around here, and now he’s acting like one of them.

“The kind who’s had to fake all her orgasms for the past three years.”

His dick twitches at the idea of you cumming at all, and Hiragi reaches up, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your face even closer to his. He doesn’t lack confidence by any means, but it’s rare that he’s this bold.

Something about you, though… the nervous babbling or your ass in those leggings or the way the word ‘orgasm’ flowed off your tongue so casually…

“Poor thing,” he murmurs in a low voice that makes you shiver for him.

Your gaze flits to his mouth for a moment, meets his again, and then you whisper, “show me how pretty you think I am.”

Your cheeks are hot under Hiragi’s palms when he grabs your face, crushing his lips against yours in a fevered kiss he could never have predicted.

You whimper immediately, clutching the collar of his shirt before frantically shoving at his jacket.

Oh, you need this, don’t you? You need someone to scratch that itch your ex never could.

Hiragi shrugs out of the leather then walks you backward toward your couch, his tongue sliding against yours as he maneuvers you to sit on the armrest. You tear your own jacket off, arms flying up when Hiragi starts pulling your shirt off. The bra you have underneath is made of soft material and does nothing to hide your hard nipples. He unclasps it with one hand, feels you smile into the kiss.

“Had some practice, have you?”

He smirks, “a bit.”

You yelp when he shoves you, sending you falling back onto the cushions so that he can get to the waistband of your bottoms and pull. You shimmy to help him, and once they’re off Hiragi is ready to spread your legs and feast on what’s between them only to find your knees locked together.

“What? Gettin’ all shy on me now?”

He’s not gonna force you to keep going if you don’t want to, but fuck, his cock is already painfully hard.

“No, I just… it’s been a second. I’m not fully, um, scaped.”

Hiragi snorts. “I’m not some frat boy bitch. A little hair ain’t gonna bother me.”

You nibble on your lip but eventually start to relax. Hiragi speeds up the process, looming over you while pressing your knees apart, and when his eyes land on what you were so worried about, his mouth starts to water.

The cutest, chubby pussy he’s ever seen, already wet for him. You’ve obviously ‘scaped’ recently, hair past stubble but nowhere near the point of curling—not that he’s ever minded that—but your insecurities are stupid.

He tugs you toward him so that your hips are lifted against the armrest, exposing more of you to him. Hiragi spreads your folds with his thumbs and licks his lips.

“Look at this sweet pussy,” he groans, pressing the tip of a finger into your drippy little hole. “All this for me?”

You let out something between a moan and a cry, nodding awkwardly, and your voice breaks when Hiragi leans over you to look at your face, sliding a long finger all the way inside of you without warning. You can take it, he knows, already soft and slick so there’s no resistance.

“You don’t even know me,” Hiragi states, hushed and a little condescending. He doesn’t know you either, but he sure is ready to stick his dick in you.

Your eyes roll, back arching, and you clench around his finger. When he curls it the way he’s done many times before, stroking against your swollen g-spot, your jaw goes slack.

Arima really couldn't do this for you? What a fucking moron.

Hiragi knows you’re gonna cum for him. He’s gonna make you. And fast. He just keeps stroking over that doughy bundle, rubbing circles over your twitching clit, and sure enough, within a matter of minutes your thighs are tensing and you’re squirting all over his shirt.

He shoves his face against your pussy, nosing between your folds as he laps up the cum still leaking out of you, forcing more and more out with each thrust of his finger.

“Oh fuck, fuck—I…”

Sucking your clit into his mouth, he keeps fucking into you, adding another finger and abusing your g-spot. You wanted an orgasm, and you’re gonna get one. Squirting is fun and messy, but he wants to get you to climax—one of those full-body, toe curling, tunnel vision kind of orgasms.

When your fingers curl in his short hair, holding him in place, Hiragi makes sure to keep up his current pattern, sucks with the same pressure, flicks his tongue in tandem with the movement of his fingers, never changing his pace as he pushes you further and further to the edge.

You begin to undulate beneath him, and even though he was about to use his free hand to palm his aching cock, he uses it to hold you in place, humming when your legs tremble over his shoulders.

“I’m—I’m, ohh~”

Your breath catches as your whole body opens up for Hiragi, pussy pulsing, blooming like a god damn flower as you cum hard, pushing out cream and another stream of squirt while your hips move against his hand uncontrollably.

“There we go,” Hiragi praises, “fuck, poor baby just needed to cum, yeah?”

“God, yesss,” your voice is thick and shaky, and you shiver almost violently as Hiragi fingerfucks you through your orgasm.

When the last few waves wash over you, and you’re only jerking from aftershocks, Hiragi removes his fingers only to replace them with his tongue. He licks inside your creamy cunt, cleaning you like the fucking gentleman he is, leaking precum into his jeans as he tastes every part of your hole he can reach.

You moan so pitifully for him, breathless and cute, and when Hiragi finishes, he kisses your clit like he’s married to it, sweet and chaste.

Wiping part of his face on his shoulder, Hiragi leans over you again, smirking at your fucked-out expression. Your eyes are glassy, smile dazed and goofy.

“Feelin’ a little more relaxed?”

You giggle drunkenly. “Mmmuch more, thank you.”

“Any time,” he responds honestly because truly, he could eat that pussy all day every day.

Am I pretty? What a dumb question. You’re a fucking masterpiece.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta get home and jack off ‘til my dick bleeds.”

Your snort is undignified and adorable. “You could always just fuck me.”

Tempting, but, “babydoll, if I fuck you in the state I’m in right now,” —he gestures to his confined, throbbing cock, “—I will hurt you.”

You groan like you want it, but Hiragi can’t. He would destroy you with how pent up he is now, would bruise every part of you and wouldn’t be able to stop. He probably wouldn’t even be able to pull out. Christ, to cum in that pussy…

“Call me if you need anything,” he tells you, helping you sit up again, eyes wandering to your bouncing tits. He wants to bite them, mark them up with his teeth and tongue.

Another time, maybe. Hopefully.

“Anything?” you play, displaying yourself while you stretch what are sure to be sore muscles.

Hiragi chuckles, “anything.” He pulls you into a long kiss, the kind that leaves him a little dizzy, and adds a mumbled, “just don’t tell your brother.”

He leaves after gathering your clothes for you, drives back to his own apartment at break-neck speed, jacks off so many times that his cock is raw by the time he’s finally satisfied.

Matsumoto is gonna be so pissed if he ever finds out, but it was kind of irresponsible of him to put Hiragi in this situation. You should come with a damn warning—caution tape tied around your neck in a little bow.

How is he supposed to focus on keeping you safe around town when all he can think about is tasting you again?

Of course, there’s always the chance that this was a one-time thing. You’ll wake up in the morning, feel better now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, tell Hiragi ‘thanks, but that was a mistake’, and he’ll have to agree with you because it was.

Fucked up as it is, he hopes you’ll make a few more mistakes with him.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #hiragi toma x reader #toma hiragi x reader #hiragi x reader

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mw4n · 4 months ago

Text

Should ¥XX,000,000 Make Fushiguro's Shit Worth It? - ch. 1

༄ synopsis - Being Toji Fushiguro's in-house private solicitor may pay well, but recently you're reconsidering if the pay makes all the stress (read: Toji himself) worth it. At this point, with all the less-than-legal actions Toji commits on the regular, you're practically a certified mob lawyer. [ full synopsis ]

༄ series tags - toji fushiguro x reader; lawyer! reader; no curses; yakuza/organised crime; violence; explicit content; dilf! toji; tags to be added

༄ wc - 5.8k

<< teaser || ch. 2 >>

( う-´)づ︻╦̵̵̿╤── \(˚☐˚”)/

“You know, you really shouldn’t smoke.”

High-heeled shoes clicked against the floor of the rundown bar, a sagging tote filled to the brim with court documents unceremoniously plopping onto the barstool next to Toji Fushiguro’s lone frame. The bartender didn’t even greet you, knowing you weren’t here to drink but just to fetch Toji.

A hand intercepted the fresh cigarette in Toji’s hand. So fresh, he hadn’t even had the chance to set down the lighter.

He turned to you, raising a brow. The incredulous look on his face increased by two more points at the sight of the cigarette now in between your lips. You inhaled the nicotine, tugging the cigarette from your parted lips to blow the haze out with a tilted head. The tenseness in your face relaxed as the sensation of the drug entered your system.

You rarely, if ever, smoked, but the recent events really did call for it.

“You’re smoking my cigarette.” You had been working with Fushiguro long enough to know when he was actually annoyed, and this was nowhere close.

You rolled your eyes, snuffing the cigarette out on the ashtray next to Toji. “With all the stress you give me, I need it more than you.” A pause. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. “And you shouldn’t smoke anyway, you’re the one with the kid.”

“I could put a kid in you, easy enough.” Toji smirked.

Externally, you looked as unperturbed as ever, ignoring his quip to rifle for his document in your tote. That was what you were here for, afterall. Externally, you were the image of a perfectly professional lawyer.

Internally, you had just creamed your underwear.

The first time you met Toji Fushiguro, it was through the second encounter with his son: Megumi. You say second, well, because you’d met Megumi before when his bike had crashed into the side of your parked and stationary car on Sugisawa Lane.

Given that the meetings were only a week apart, it wasn’t too difficult for you to recall how the events had unfolded.

“Motherfucker-!” Someone cursed, almost in tandem with a jostling abrupt impact at the side of your car. It was moments like these where you were reminded that in times when most people deliberated between flight and fright, you were an outlier and chose to freeze.

You tear your eyes away from where they had been fixed onto the mirror, carefully focused on navigating yourself into this tight parking spot, and slowly turn your attention out the window. Just nestled underneath was a teen sprawled disgracefully over the road, legs all sprayed.

He was dressed in the uniform of the local middle school nearby: a white buttoned shirt, a jacket, black pants. With hair that spikes out in every direction, he has an uncanny resemblance to the sea urchins your grandmother used to bring from the wet market. The urchins that you would watch split orange-tinged liquid all over the sink. Hmm…

As the student rubs said spiky hair, wincing all the while, your vision slowly pans towards the banged up bike next to him. No doubt the culprit behind a fresh dent in your car.

Wait- middle school uniform? Your mind catches up to the observation you made.

The stream of expletives from his mouth finally clarify into real words in your mind, now morphing into a variety of legible curses ranging from ‘motherfucker’ to ‘dogshit piece of shit’. Privately, you thought, the last one lacked creativity. Really? Dogshit piece of shit? But you had more pressing issues.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” you frown, unclipping your seatbelt. If he’s in middle school, that puts him at thirteen, at the very oldest.

Almost instinctively, he retorts a petulant, “make me.” Then, realisation that he’s the one in the wrong here dawns on him and he flushes. “I mean- sorry, miss.”

You sigh. From the sound (and the feeling) of the crash, you would have to inspect the damage on the side of your car yourself.

Your new car!

There’s an all-too familiar little wail in your heart. You’d heard it when you paid your law school tuition, you heard it when you found out that your tuition hadn’t covered your graduation gown or other expenses, and you heard it when you had put the down payment on this brand! New! Car!

Admittedly, ‘brand new’ might have been a stretch. The car was comfortably second hand. But you had just acquired it! It had barely been two weeks and a kid scrapes it up with his bike? It was brand new to you!

“You alright?” You have the dedency to ask. The car door clicks as it opens, prompting the pre-teen to shuffle out the way. He’s grimacing. “Crash sounded bad.”

At this point, you’ve tuned out his minor hisses. You assess him as you step out of the car and, aside from a couple scrapes and a smudge mark of… something on his cheek, the kid looks fine. Your focus of attention pivoted onto the state of your car.

He mutters darkly to himself, something about a shitty bicycle ripoff seller, before answering you. “I’m sorry about this, miss.”

You finally gauge the damage, pinching the bridge of your nose to ward off the incoming pressure in your sinuses at the sight of the accident. A comical sound effect of coins clinking plays in your head as you imagine the damage your bank account could take.

There’s a rippling crater in the side of your new, albeit, second-hand car, and a long gouge. A part of the bike had caught onto the metal as it used your car as a veritable crash cushion. The damage either said something about the strength and tenacity of this kid’s bike or the fragility of your car.

You close your eyes.

This was as clear cut as a case as it gets. You were peacefully and calmly exiting your parking spot, checking both mirrors and making sure there were no obstructions. You had done your duty. It was this kid who came out of nowhere and slammed into your car with his bike.

Good thing you had car insurance. Though you had nearly bit through your lip when you paid it, words couldn’t describe how relieved you were now.

“Where are your parents, kid?” You turned to him fully, crossing your arms.

He takes in your whole one hundred seventy centimetre self. Your tight pencil skirt, flats, and buttoned blouse. You look every bit like the office slave you are.

He’s also trying to estimate how amenable you would be towards eating his bullshit, and judging by your unimpressed pursing of the lips, you don’t look like you’d take it with a spoonful of sugar.

You stare down at him, waiting.

But still, he gives it a try.

The teen pulls out a phone, punching in some numbers. It’s the newest model. The phone rings for a bit and a cheerful voice picks up.

You hear a cheery “Megumi~!” through the tinny speaker before the kid starts speaking, still sprawled on the road floor.

“I need some help. My bike accidentally bumped into someone’s car and now she’s asking to speak to my parents. Probably about the damage. It looks pretty bad. Can you sort this out with her?” For someone who had caused such hefty damage, he seems relatively nonplussed by the whole situation.

A beat goes by, clearly the person on the other side asking a question. The kid - Megumi - makes a ‘mhm’ in response. Then he hands the phone over.

You don’t even reach out to receive it.

“That’s not your parent.”

He blinks up at you. “It’s my dad. He’ll handle this.”

You look away. “Call your actual dad.”

The likelihood of someone manually hand-dialing their dad’s number when asked to instead of selecting from contacts on your phone was way too unlikely for you to believe that Megumi had just called his dad.

Your eyes had caught that little action. Coupled with the fact that he hadn’t called the person on the other side ‘dad’ once, only added to your suspicion.

Megumi scowls. Without even saying bye to the person on the other side, he hangs up.

This time, he taps the phone app and selects someone from speed-dial. Satisfied, you lean back on your car and wait.

In no time, someone - a deeper voice - picks up.

“Megumi?”

A sharp contrast from the first person. Megumi stays silent for a bit, and then speaks.

“Hey dad,” he says in a resigned manner. “I hit someone’s car with my bike by accident-”

His dad says something. Megumi pauses. He shakes his head and then seems to remember that his dad can’t see him. “No, I’m fine.”

Another question.

“Yeah. Yeah. She’s asked to talk to my parents-, I called him but…” Megumi rolls his eyes now, “he’s a bit unreliable. So in the end I still called you.”

His dad says something and then Megumi hands the phone over to you. His eyes dart to you, almost nervously, and he bites his lip.

Finally, you receive the phone, flicking your hair out the way.

“Hello?” His voice is deep, the kind of deep that must reverberate in his chest, and stern against your ear. At such close quarters… meeeeoww!

You perish the thought.

“Hello, it’s as your kid said. I was parked when his bike slammed into my car.” There’s a thin veneer of professionality that you’re gripping with the edges of your fingers, but you’ve played the game long enough to know others can’t tell that.

Megumi’s father is rather cooperative, providing his insurance details and his number for any further inconveniences. You expected there to be some resistance, maybe some blame from him onto you, but there was nothing.

During your conversation, Megumi busies himself with straightening out his bike. The front wheel is busted. The spokes? Busted. You have no idea how the crash had actually happened, having only caught the aftermath of it, and not enough knowledge on bikes to know how the wheel spokes can protrude and bend like htat.

He’s still inspecting it when you conclude the conversation, thanking Megumi’s father - Fushiguro, going by his minimal introduction - and hanging up.

“It’ll be sorted now,” you hand the phone back over to Megumi.

The teen tucked it into his pocket. His spiky hair looks less energetic, noticeably drooping and reflecting his dejected demeanour.

“I just got this bike too. I got ripped off.”

Judging by the state of his bike, it’s unusable.

Maybe there’s some sympathy in you for that. You too had also just gotten your car when this had happened.

Looking away awkwardly, you run a hand through your hair. I better not regret this.

“Kid… you want a ride?” You ask hesitantly.

You’d actually just meant a drive to the nearest train station, but somehow Megumi seamlessly manipulates you into driving him pretty much all the way home. Which is annoying, because after a long day of work, there’s nothing more you want than to be at home, showered and in bed.

But instead, you have to deal with your itchy pantyhose for thirty more minutes.

Whoever made your piece of shit workplace dress code was a demon. Who makes heels mandatory? A small curse goes out to your ageing, withering male-dominated management who care little for female comfort and more for female eye candy.

If you keep thinking about it actually, you’ll get too worked up.

You distract yourself by driving through the unfamiliar suburbs.

“A lawyer, huh?” He says, impressed. “What kind?”

You hmm for a bit. “I’m early enough in my career where I’m kind of still figuring out what I want to settle in. Ideally, something that uses a mix of everything, but I’m not sure.”

“What about criminal law? Locking up murderers or whatever,” Megumi stares out the window. “Left.”

You shrug, turning left. “Could.”

The area around you slowly transitions towards some expensive looking apartment complex. It’s gated for goodness sake. There’s little decorative glass lanterns for goodness sake.

The black gates stay closed as you approach, but when Megumi rolls open the window and sticks his head out, the gates open.

He doesn’t even speak.

A deep seated envy in your heart!

Wasn’t being a lawyer supposed to rake in the big bucks?

And here you were, ferrying a kid in a busted second-hand car.

Another reason to hate your current boss. He’s definitely underpaying you.

Despite the gate being open, you don’t drive in. Honestly, you’re too embarrassed to have the people who live in this apartment complex possibly seeing the state of your car. But you don’t tell Megumi that.

“This is as far as I’ll take you,” you insist stubbornly. “And it’s more than what you deserve, running into me like that.”

He nods at that. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for the ride though.”

You watch the kid struggle with getting his banged-up bike out of the trunk of your car through your rearview mirror, and then you drive off to your mechanic. At least you can invoice it to Megumi’s father.

But taking the metro to work tomorrow! Another wail in your heart goes off at the thought of that. You can already imagine how packed it’ll be during peak morning time.

The second time you encounter Megumi Fushiguro, it’s on the train, and you’re on the way home. Having had to stay behind for an hour or so to catch up on last minute added work, the usual intense numbers brought on by rush hour has ebbed a significant portion.

Originally engrossed in responding to an email on your phone (can your piece-of-dog-shit boss really not see that you’ve attached the relevant document sixteen hundred times for him in the previous emails?), your thumbs tapping a mile a minute, a shout by the end of the car draws everyone’s attention - including yours.

As a rather low-presence member of society, you’re quite surprised that you recognise one of the participants in the altercation. Still, you feel no desire to intervene, content with maintaining your bystander status.

A middle-aged man, puffy and red-faced, appears to be the main instigator. Shouting abrasively, he’s manhandling the collar of a familiar looking spiky-headed student.

Though there’s an easy two meter gap between you adnd them, you can make out the white knuckled hold he’s got on the student’s uniform, speaking volumes about how much strength he’s putting in.

He’s so angry, you can hardly understand what he’s saying, an undercurrent of a gai-jin accent protruding too much from his words.

Interestingly enough, despite the numerous gaze concentrated on them and spittle flying in his face, the student looked almost bored by the whole situation.

You’ve already identified him via the unique hair he sports, but the expression locks it in.

Megumi?

He’s so carefree from the situation that his wandering eyes make contact with you, flickering with recognition.

You mean to raise a hand up in greeting, but a sudden jolt of the train over a rough patch of track forces you to grab a nearby pole for stability.

You flail, stumbling, causing the person next to you to look at you with alarm. By the time you’re balanced and looking up, the situation’s reversed.

Instead of Megumi being gripped by the man, you manage to catch the tail end of a new student - his friend, you presume - socking the man squarely in the jaw. Gasps fly up in the crowd, and even you can’t help but blink in shock. Dumbfounded.

“Get your hands off him, you creep!”

Compared to Megumi, his friend appears foreign, sporting lighter tawny coloured hair and strange birthmarks on his face that make him stand out from the homogenous crowd.

He’s not even breathing heavily, frowning as he stands defensively in front of Megumi. The latter of which has placed his hands in his pockets and settles into a near-mocking slouch. He’s clearly not even taking this seriously.

“Why you-!” The middle-aged man bulges like a frog. You have no idea what caused the conflict, but when the man starts rolling up your sleeves, that’s when you start looking around. No one’s intervening.

You feel your conscience twinge.

It’s true that in between three guys, you really shouldn’t get in the middle of things, but you know Megumi’s only in middle school. He’s just a kid! And as a law abiding member of society, you feel it’s kind of your moral duty to at least try and dissuade the conflict from escalating any further.

Suppressing the urge to cast a powerful stink eye at the cowards remaining silent, you step forward and approach the man cautiously.

Differentiating from the crowd makes you nervous, but who cursed you with a bleeding heart?

“Sir, if this goes any further, I’m going to have to call the police.” You say calmly, brandishing your phone. The numbers 110 are stark against your screen’s light-mode.

The man turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a matador standing in front of a bull in an enclosed area. Sweat starts to prickle down the nape of your neck, though your expression remains as stony as ever.

“He punched me and started it! Go ahead, call the police, see what they say!”

Megumi’s friend looks faintly surprised to see someone intervening on their behalf. Megumi doesn’t.

“Please step aside, sir. You need to calm down.” In the corner of your perception, you can see the announcement that the train is approaching the next station roll by on the panel. Perfect, there’ll be staff there. You can just hand it o-

???

Stars flash by your vision from the abrupt pain shocking your system. The man lunged at you, shocking everyone and sending you crumpling towards the floor.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”

He probably meant to get your face, but he tripped over someone’s briefcase on the floor and the fist swung lower.

You have mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s punched you. On the other hand… at least it wasn’t your face?

Apparently watching an older man beating up two middle-schoolers isn’t anything to fuss about, and people are generally content to let it all play out. But when an older man tries to pummel a defenceless, beautiful woman who’s just trying to be a good citizen? That’s what gets people to fly up in a frenzy.

“Hey, that’s too much!”

“Back off her!”

A whole bunch of white knights.

You’re still dizzy with the force when you’re pulled out of the flurry. With the posture of pulling a drowning man ashore, arms under your shoulders, you look up to see Megumi’s friend holding you.

A (this is estimated) thirteen year old easily lifting you?

You feel a little flattered by the internal thought that you’re so light (though, of course, Megumi’s friend could just be really strong, but you dismiss that consideration). Just a dust mote, you are. People should be careful not to brush you off their clothing next time you go out.

He’s looking all concerned, staring down at you. The birthmarks along his cheekbones catch your attention, but you have the sense not to gawk.

“Are you ‘kay, miss? Sorry you had to get all mixed up in this.”

Using his solid, stalwart stance as a support, you stand on shaky legs. The dull pain across your collar compounds with the ache in your heeled-feet, and you just wish you were home again.

Really, who gave you such a bleeding heart?

That was less of a rhetorical question, and now an annoyed query to the divine up ahead.

“I couldn’t just watch things get worse for you and Fushiguro without doing anything. You’re just middle schoolers,” you sigh. Your imposing manner against the man is nowhere to be seen now. “And who would’ve expected he would be so crazy that he would just lunge at me?”

Megumi finally speaks, arms crossed over his chest. “I could’ve handled it without your help.”

You shoot him a glare. “This the thanks I get?

He looks away but the tips of his ears pink. “Thanks.”

You’re reminded a little bit of your first meeting, when Megumi had been similarly embarrassed but repentful all the same.

Heh.

“Eh? You know Fushiguro, miss? That makes more sense.” His friend scratches the back of his head, looking friendlier. You’re reminded of the dumb looking golden retriever your childhood neighbours used to raise. The round one that would press between the bars of the gate, fat fur spilling out through the gaps, and whimper for pets as anyone walked by. “I was wondering why someone like you intervened.”

The words ‘like you’ shoot into your heart like two arrows.

What does that mean?!

“Like… me?” You say slowly, despair leaking into your voice.

“!!!!” He waves two hands, shaking his head concurrently. “No! I meant, why an office worker like you stuck your head out!”

“Like… me?” Your eyes look empty.

Am I getting old?

“!!!!!!!!! Because you’re dressed so neatly, I didn’t take you for someone who was so righteous! It would be one thing if it had been a big, tall guy, but you know, you’re just a frail miss!”

Frail!

A third arrow pierces into your heart. At least he didn’t call you aged or withered or decrepit or-

“Alright, enough, Itadori,” Megumi claps a hand onto his panicking friend’s shoulder. “You’re making things worse.”

The friend deflates.

You don’t look much different.

The train doors slide open, finally arriving at the station, and you’re taken off guard by the two policemen standing in front of the incoming passengers.

Clearly someone during the whole ordeal called the police, and during the conversation with Megumi and Itadori, the crowd has long subdued the rampaging man.

Disgruntled, he’s thrust over to the authorities to be taken away. Megumi and Itadori get singled out, and follow after the arrested man to have their statements taken.

You watch them leave with mixed feelings, but shake your head in the end and head towards your exit.

At least, you would’ve been heading towards your exit if it hadn’t been for the policeman stepping into your path.

With a serious face, he blocks the path - undoubtedly preventing you from leaving. Passengers waiting for the next train watch unabashedly.

Your eye twitches.

“Yes?

“Miss, the other passengers said you were involved in the altercation. Unfortunately, you’ll have to come with us.”

Then the thought occurs to you.

If Megumi hadn’t crashed into your car, forcing you to bring it to the mechanic, you wouldn’t be on the metro in this situation in the first place! Did you owe the Fushiguro family in your past life?

Oh, how the chips fall.

Regretting that you had intervened after all, you ended up following the policeman with undisguised annoyance.

You hate cops.

It’s at the Kanekaburo police station where you finally meet Megumi’s father - the man financing your car repairs and cosmetic tune-ups - Toji Fushiguro.

He arrives when you’re in a stare-down against the middle-aged man’s lawyer, crossing your arms, Itadori and Megumi behind you. The policemen sweat nervously.

“He might be a minor, but he still punched my client. Everyone saw it!” The other lawyer sneers, his client - of which you had learnt was called Mr. Nakamura - stands with a puffed chest.

“It’s self defence,” your lip curling. “With your client as the aggressor. Honestly, they’re just middle schoolers. It’s unnecessary for him to have been laying hands on them in the first place!”

Mr. Nakamura puffs even more. “That’s only because they had been so rude with me!”

You don’t know what happened before so you ignore that. “And what do you think you’re doing, punching me? That’s battery, and if you really want to escalate this, section 47 assault.”

The lawyer glances at Mr. Nakamura but then looks like he’s made up his mind. “Do you really want to bring this to court?”

You hesitate. To be honest, you’re not really sure if this is really worth the trouble, and you’re not too clear on the situation of why Megumi had been in the altercation with the man in the first place. Settling might be better.

Opening your mouth, you’re cut off from answering by a third party entering the scene.

“Megumi,” a familiar voice drawls. “Get over here.”

The tone, though dulcet and lazy, sends your back straightening and hair prickling. You furrow your brow, turning to see the new entry that even the police couldn’t stop from waltzing into this area.

Dressed in a tight black shirt that does nothing to conceal hard muscle lines and loose grey sweatpants that hang off his hips, you can’t help but let your eyes wander appreciatively down his broad frame. The contrast between his tight upper clothing and baggy lower clothing only draws more attention to his taut waist.

He thumbs at a pale scar at the edge of his lips, like a subconscious, absent-minded habit, and his other hand runs through his ink-black hair with a troubled sigh.

“You’re such a troublemaker, Megumi. I only just get home, when I get called in for this?”

It’s only then his voice registers.

You had heard his voice before, albeit filtered, so it doesn’t take long for you to put the two and two together and realise this is Megumi’s father.

Your eyes dart to his huge hands, where two observations promptly wrap around your thoughts. One, he hasn’t got a ring. (You don’t know what that says about you, noticing that.) And two, his fingers are huge and, almost as importantly, long.

Something indescribable paws at the edge of your thoughts but you don’t even think twice before punting it decisively to the recesses of your mind.

Your travelling gaze makes eye contact, and a spark travels up your spine.

!!!

His arms cross over his chest.

Holy mother of biceps, you think, almost in pious prayer.

“Who’s this?” He smirks.

As his stare connects, you squash the quivering in your knees at his full undivided attention crashing onto you. The image of a lost tree trunk in the ocean, buffeted by tempestuous stormy waves, fizzes into your mind.

There’s just something about the air he exudes.

Like a black panther lounging on a branch, one wouldn’t dare relax from the feline’s lazy flicking tail or careless posture. You just know instinctively that every single muscle is coiled tight and ready to pounce at the scent of weakness.

Megumi saves you, stepping forward and taking the heat. There’s a furrow that manifests in his brow that you haven’t seen at all today.

“Stop that. This is Y/N, she got roped in because of us.”

Peeping from behind Megumi, Itadori beams and flaps a hand. Out of all three of you, he seems to be the most unbothered by the appearance of Megumi’s father.

“Heyyy~ Mr. Fushiguro.”

“Yo, Itadori,” Megumi’s father raises a palm. Tilting his head, he thinks to himself for a bit. “Y/N? You wouldn’t happen to be the reason why that invoice from Chezai Mechanics of-“ he spits a series of numbers that, for your mental health, you immediately filter out, “-is sitting on my desk, would you?”

You raise a brow.

“I think we both know that the reason for that invoice, Mr. Fushiguro, is really because of your son.”

An indescribable sense of pressure leverages onto you, but you just scoff and turn to the side. Your thin nonchalance barely conceals the tenseness in your posture.

Then he snickers, and the feeling is gone.

“You’re right. It is because of Megumi.”

Megumi grumbles.

Everyone relaxes.

It’s at this moment that the huffy middle-aged man seems to have had enough of the spotlight taken off him, making another fuss.

“Now that the father of the one responsible is here, you should know to educate your son! I’ll- I could take this to court, you know!” He swells, tinting pink in the face. His lawyer looks mildly panicked. Clearly they hadn’t discussed this.

Megumi’s father narrows his eyes and the power in the room shifts invisibly. The airflow almost stagnates. As if subconsciously aware, everyone seems to hold their breath. No one seems to take heed of the fact that the police have literal guns strapped to them, least of all the policemen, who stay silent with wide eyes.

Then, just as quick as it happened, the moment passes, and Megumi’s father is chuckling.

The colour leeches from Mr. Nakamura’s face, the red fading to reveal a fear-conjured white that only serves to highlight his greasy skin texture.

“Oh, really? For what?”

In hindsight, this should’ve been your first sign that Megumi’s father wasn’t just anyone. How could a regular person hone that kind of presence without spilling some blood?

“F-for- for-“

You cut in. “For the two counts of assault and battery you’ve committed against Fushiguro’s son and me, you mean.”

The bluster flies out of Mr. Nakamura just as fast as it had accumulated.

In the end, all that heat that Mr. Nakamura had mustered faded once Mr. Fushiguro smiled a bit more at him. Even the hotshot lawyer who you had been butting heads with felt like he had tamped down.

You had received Mr. Nakamura’s number and details for any injury-related bills incurred, and were rather satisfied.

As you leave the police station, dreaming again of your shower but knowing you’ll have to get on the metro and jostle again, both the Fushiguro’s and Itadori are right behind you.

“I’m so~rry, Megumi,” Itadori sheepishly says behind you. Megumi harrumphs in response. From this snippet, you can tell that whatever the reason is for Mr. Nakamura’s anger, Itadori was most likely the primary member behind it.

Though you can’t see it, you can almost hear Megumi rolling his eyes.

Heading towards the bus stop - because you really can’t stomach incurring more transport costs - you’re a little taken back by the extra set of footsteps behind you. In the reflection of the shiny bus stop advertisement, you can see Fushiguro looking at you.

“Y/N, right?”

You pause. “Yes.”

He doesn’t say more than that, just looking at you thoughtfully.

A premonition…

“It was nice meeting you and your son, Mr. Fushiguro. Itadori.” You nod at the trio.

Mr. Fushiguro opens his mouth but you’re already skating off. Who said your heels hurt!

You think it’s all behind you, casting the series of events from your mind. The injury on your collarbone has deepened into a gross yellowish-green bruise that pangs every time your blouse even brushes against the skin, but you’re actually regretful it wasn’t worse.

With little else but a bruise ointment from your nearby convenience store to bill Mr. Nakamura with, you can’t help but feel you’ve lost out.

It’s not like you advocate hurting yourself to hurt your opponent, and a pyrric victory isn’t a true victory… but… some part of you is miffed that you hadn’t been able to take a bigger chunk out of the man who punched you.

You should’ve fought harder.

Still, you’ve got bigger fish to fry.

Your boss has just ripped into you for about thirty minutes- well, you and the rest of your team - for work that he definitely had just lost by himself and not because none of you guys had emailed it to him, so you’re slumped over your office chair in a defeated manner.

Uncaring of your image, you cover the back of your eyes with your forearm. Your skirt crumples against the chair and you kick off your heels under your desk.

At least in your private cubicle, no one can see you like this.

That’s when you get two identical notifications to both your private email and your message inbox. The alerting vibration against the plastic table buzzes.

You don’t recognise the string of numbers and most of the message is cut off by a line break, but you don’t open it - pressing onto the notification to enlarge the whole thing.

Y/N,

What do you think about working for me?

You’re a bit curious as to why this number had reached out to you in this manner rather then just through your L**kedIn, but that curiosity is outweighed by the fact that someone has your personal email (it’s not really hard to guess that one), your phone number, and your name.

Your thumb moves over to the block button when a second message rolls in, again pinging into your email inbox and your phone messages.

Of course, annual salary negotiations start at ¥XX,000,000.

HOLY SHIT- Before your mind can catch up to your actions, you’ve opened the message, read it, typed, and sent a response.

Sorry, who is this?

The mysterious person doesn’t respond for a couple minutes. You’re just about to turn off your phone, dismissing this as a cruel prank on an office slave when another message pings - just in your messages, this time.

…Fushiguro. Megumi’s father.

I did give you the correct contact, no?

Ahhh…. a searing sound akin to steak on a grill rings in your head.

You’re embarrassed that he’s caught you in the act.

In truth, he had indeed given you his comprehensive details but it wasn’t like you actually saved it into your contacts. You had just written it down onto your notes app and handed it to your mechanic to be processed.

You weren’t good with numbers.

You don’t respond, but he doesn’t push the topic, continuing.

What do you think about being my own private solicitor?

There’ll be an exclusivity fee, of course. To ensure you’re not busied by other potential clients.

More?!

The calendar app opens on your phone in a heartbeat, and you strike out the upcoming ‘private’ meeting with your boss mercilessly. You might get an annoyed shout for that, but you’ll probably just gaslight him into thinking he scratched it out himself. He wasn’t the best with tech, afterall.

I’m free at 16:30 today to discuss.

You refrain from adding an exclamation mark at the end. It would be bad to come off as too eager, would it?

Fushiguro stops responding and your momentary passion ebbs, leaving you overthinking. Was it too much? Maybe he wasn’t even free today. Maybe he was just probing your interest.

You turn off your phone, feigning disinterest - only to pounce when the screen lights with another notification.

This time, there’s no words, just a location pin for a nearby cafe.

You check the time.

If you rush the scrapped document, you can make it!

Your fingers fly over the keyboard immediately. With this motivation, even the tedious work that you had agonised over is nothing.

Unknown to you, you’re biting at your lip, filled with anticipation.

¥XX,000,000.

In a couple months time though, you would be lamenting your decision.

---

next chapter link here

(Years later…) Megumi: actually this was all masterminded by me when I was twelve years old- Reader: !!!! You were twelve?! Itadori: ...you're ignoring the mastermind portion?

༄ A/N - whewwww! chapter one of this series out! i hope everyone likes my tumblr jjk writing debut (シ_ _)シ and my writing style !

(♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) please feel free to interact w me in any way shape or form, I'm always excited for new friends new mutuals~~~ shoot me an ask or a like or anything hehe

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fic series #fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n #¥XX000000 #mwr4ting

137 notes · View notes

starsfic · 2 months ago

Note

Fluff 49 is someone jealous

Mei (could be taken as platonic, romantic, or QPR, hell it could be dark)

while I'm not sure if Eastern dragons display hording/possessive tendencies like there western counterparts. But I wanna think Mei due to her dragon instincts gets somewhat possessive over things and people she highly values. From objects like her bikes, and stuffed animal collection to living people like her parents, pigsy and tang who may of been like second parents to her at this point and of course her best friend for eternity MK.

So when red son joins there friend group shes happy at first when him and mk start getting on surprising well. But starts to grow jealous when redson starts cutting into her personal time with mk. Heck at times she feels like he's deliberately trying to hog mks attention.

As much as she loves red she feels the need to assert some boundaries, and remind him or even both of the boys who was here first.

Long Xiaojiao felt sometimes that there was a great big fat divide between her and Qi Xiaotian sometimes.

It wasn't a divide that couldn't be crossed. But it was there. Between her and Red dealing with the Samadhi fire and Xiaotian dealing with the whole "Harbinger of Chaos" stuff with Wukong, there was stuff that they couldn't share because the other wouldn't understand. It sucked, but there was still things to talk about. Especially when Red started tagging along!

Red, like she thought, was a great friend when he finally relaxed a bit. He knew cool demon spots to hang out with and could rattle for hours about different topics. He was fascinating. Xiaojiao's favorite hangout was when he led her and Xiaotian to a secret demon fighting ring and they spent most of the day placing bets (with food) on fighters. Then someone got the bright idea to challenge her to a fight and Xiaojiao enjoyed watching Xiaotian's eyes darken with desire as she fought the guy barehanded.

Xiaotian was her best friend. Hers since the day they met at the park, playing in the mud. Red was also hers, although the desire to hoard him was much less due to the new nature of their friendship. They were happy, all three of them.

And then Red tried to make that divide wider.

At first, she didn't notice. She had been delighted when Red suddenly had a free night on Saturday night, an old tradition of hers and Xiaotian where they had a movie marathon. It was nice to have something that was just them even in the craziness of their lives now. She thought it would only be once.

Except "one free Saturday night" became "every Saturday night was free". It wasn't a problem, not at first.

Not until she looked over to realize that Red had wrapped an arm around Xiaotian to cuddle close and realization struck her like a fist on weird behavior she had noticed from Red. The ability to remember Xiaotian's favorites, the insistence on sitting next to him, oh my gods all the touching.

She loved Red, really. But she loved Xiaotian more.

Her breaking point came when they were at a bar, drinking in congrats for Xiaotian's webcomic finally being published. Of course, most people would be interested because it was the Monkie Kid writing it, but Xiaojiao knew his art style and storytelling would win.

Red leaned close, smiling at Xiaotian like pure sin. "So, Noodle Boy..." The nickname was sweet as sugar, no longer containing a disgusting note. "I had to notice some things about the love interest. They mentioned knowing how they kissed. Unfortunately, I don't think I've won something like that from you before..."

"Oh," Xiaojiao said before Xiaotian could answer. "It's because of this." She patted her lap and Xiaotian stood up, a sweet smile forming across his face. Red raised a brow and then his hair floomed into flames as Xiaotian straddled her, the motion easy.

"Hey," her best friend cooed.

"Hey," she cooed back, her fingers settling in their favorite spots before Xiaotian leaned down and kissed her.

For a few glorious moments, it was just him and her. She didn't need to steal him or lock him away. He gave himself to her, his best friend in the whole world, willingly.

Finally, though, air had the nasty need of being needed and Xiaojiao pulled away. Xiaotian instead settled his chin on her shoulder, sighing contently.

Red stared at them with wide eyes. Then his eyes narrowed.

It was a secret challenge. Xiaojiao answered it back.

(Xiaotian hid his smile in his best friend's shoulder. Hopefully, she and Red got the worst of the instinctual possessiveness out of their systems before his preparations were done.

He intended for them both to be his.)

#Stars Answers #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Long Xiaojiao #Red Son #Qi Xiaotian #Goldendragon #Goldendragonshipping #Spicynoodles #Spicynoodleshipping #Chimera #Chimerashipping #my writing #prompt fill #prompt fic

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 year ago

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When Ice and Mav actually moved in together for the first time (after dodging it for about five years) when Mav had to take in Bradley, Ice found pretty soon that Bradley and Mav had no sense of safety --- would always forget to lock the door, either while leaving the house for the day or retiring for the night.

So he installed locks that would lock automatically as soon as the door shut.

Of course, Mav and Bradley didn't remember to lock the doors because they didn't remember to take the keys with them. One can imagine this becomes a problem.

After the twentieth time Bradley biked from school only to wait three hours for Mav, and then another two to wait for Ice because Mav also forgot his keys, Bradley decides to do something about it.

He's very much Mav's kid so instead of doing the normal thing and making key copies and putting them in some secret spots/his locker room, he decides he's just going to learn to pick locks.

It's the nineties so he basically just goes to a locksmith and asks if he can buy some tools off him and the guy is so fascinated by this scrawny thirteen-year-old who wants to learn to pick locks to break into his own house, he not only teachs him basics but also gives him lock picking mags and a book.

So Bradley learns on old locks and bike chains and then one day, he forgets the keys and breaks into their own house. It happens again and again.

Mav finds out when he picks Bradley up from the principal's office one day and arrives at the house to promptly realize he didn't take his keys in the morning. He asks Bradley if he has the keys, he doesn't, and Mav just gets fed up because there's no way they're waiting six hours until Ice comes back so he has to go back to base.

Bradley makes a deal with him. "If I get us inside, you won't ground me."

Obviously, Mav agrees. And Bradley picks the lock.

And like, Mav probably shouldn't indulge this, but it also means he doesn't have to worry about carrying keys again so, yeah, he buys Bradley a new lockpicking mini tool belt. And Bradley gets even better at it.

One day, Ice is supposed to be at home the whole day, brought a suitcase full of confidential documents with himself, the type that has both a lock and a code, and tells Bradley to tell Mav he's only going to be at the office fifteen minutes tops, he'll be home the whole day, please don't blow a gasket Mav. Bradley asks why, Ice explains he forgot the goddamn key for the suitcase and Bradley is like, "If I can open it, can you buy me that keyboard before my birthday?" and for funnsies, Ice agrees.

Before he finishes saying, "This is government property, kid, no way you'll be able to open it with some funny screwdriver," Bradley is reading the top secret mission plans out loud.

He gets that keyboard. Ice is the man of his word.

One time, Slider arrives on base in his new fancy BMW, showing it off and boasting so much he locks the key in by accident.

Ice is like, "Don't call the locksmith, I got it," and calls home and asks Bradley to check if he can open it and Bradley's answer is, "Only if Uncle Slider agrees to teach me to drive in it." Slider, obviously, agrees because there's no way --- he doesn't know what Ice is playing at but Baby Goose is not going to open his car.

Bradley opens the brand new BMW with about twenty Navy guys cheering him on in the parking lot.

Now, when Bradley is all alone at college, it's very tempting to use it for bad stuff --- to steal cars or rob shops, especially when money gets tough --- but the worst he does is breaking into the cafeteria and stealing sandwiches and bags of chips. He knows having a record would kick him out of NROTC, fast, so the lockpicking becomes a bit useless --- he does charge people from his dorms (which all have the same automatic lock on the doors) ten bucks to open them and avoid calling the RA.

Next time it has any significant impact on his life, Jake Seresin just forgot his key to his locker. He's got his flight suit but his boots and a space to leave his bag is behind the closed door.

Bradley only says, "You're not going to ask questions and you're going to owe me one."

He takes out a pin he always has attached to his car keys and within minutes, Seresin's locker is open.

He doesn't know it but Jake stares at him, not because he's wondering how much shit he's stolen (that too, a little bit) but also because apparently he finds lock picking really hot.

Now, Bradley goes about his life and soon enough finds out that Seresin's definition of 'owe you one' meant taking Bradley out on a date. Which, honestly, Bradley isn't that opposed to even if he puts on a face, Seresin is nice to look at and it's hard to find a guy to fuck when you're training six days a week in flight school.

They have a little routine of Jake calling with, "Hey, I locked myself out, can you get your ass here?" and Bradley lockpicking his door and then pinning him to said door as soon as they're inside. He's pretty sure he's seen Jake's keys in his back pocket a few times it happened.

This continues but Bradley keeps on staying longer and longer at Jake's place, more of his already small collection of things makes its way there, to the point that it's more like he's living there too and just breaking in every time, like back at the house in San Diego.

Obviously, he gets spooked, badly, when Jake finally says that when they move to Lemoore after they finish training, he's giving Bradley an actual key. The last time he shared a key with someone, he's been told he isn't enough and isn't ready and had all his dreams shattered --- like hell he's letting Jake chew out his heart, again.

So he requests change of target stations and doesn't say shit until the winging ceremony.

Next time he picks a lock, it's Nat's car in the NAS Oceans parking lot. He doesn't say she owes him one but she offers him a drink at the nearby bar as a thank you. He says no, just not to risk it again.

Nat sticks but nothing like with Jake happens.

Years go on and the second time around Bradley is at Top Gun, with Mav hovering over him like a goddamn shadow, with Nat's judgemental eyes and with Jake's big pretty mouth not knowing what he's saying, he gets a text.

I locked myself out. Can you get your ass here? with a base house location pinned in the next message.

Maybe he's naive but he goes.

"I really did lock myself out," Jake tells him straight away. "Don't think this means anything."

They haven't talked since he took out Bradley's dirty laundry in front of everyone in the debriefing room. Bradley opens his front door and is about to leave when Jake asks, "You wanna step inside?"

It doesn't solve anything. He doesn't know if Jake actually locked himself out or not.

When he and Mav are discharged, waiting to leave the base again, and Mav swears and mutters, "I forgot my goddamn keys," and Bradley knows Ice is currently in Hawaii, Bradley asks, "You got some paper clips on you?"

It doesn't solve anything but he breaks into Mav and Ice's house.

It doesn't solve anything but it's a start.

#icemav #mavdad and icepops get tricked #this was a silly idea #hangster #bradley rooster bradshaw #tgm #op #charlie writes

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frieschan · 1 year ago

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bangtan with an idol gf // bts hcs

➳ member/s featured: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook x f! reader (separate)

➳ unrequested | headcanons // fluff/crack

➳ TW:

➳ summary: how would our bangtan boys be like with a girlfriend who is a fellow idol?

➳ AN: decided for a small break between workin' on querencia, if you have the time, pls check it out here! its a hybrid ot7 x m reader fic :) i hope more ppl would like it since its mainly my first time to create a full story.

➳ extra info: y/n's filler name will be yona as an abbreviation from 'your name' (yona), she is also around the age as vmin except older than the V

—KIM NAMJOON ; rap monster !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yojoon

-ˋˏ ღ library dates are a must, or even a hole in the wall cafe/library

-ˋˏ ღ listening to him ramble about a new book he read because he's ur baby

-ˋˏ ღ having plant kids that the both of u post about

-ˋˏ ღ you usually have to drive for him or the two of you bike to your destination, a few fans catching the two of you

-ˋˏ ღ he loves writing lyrics or poems about or for you, actually some of his songs are about you

-ˋˏ ღ cleaning after him was part of your resume in becoming his girlfriend.

-ˋˏ ღ he's broken so much shit in your house it's not even funny

-ˋˏ ღ he's your clumsy little boy

-ˋˏ ღ he also has rizz. very good rizz

-ˋˏ ღ always knowing when you're nervous around him with that fat brain of his (smart boy also)

-ˋˏ ღ he always gets so strained as a leader of the biggest kpop group and then having to translate for his brothers, he ends up just collapsing to you and sleeping for a while to recharge his battery

-ˋˏ ღ sometimes you think about the time he brought his bike inside his producing room

-ˋˏ ღ "jagi that's not a good idea-"

-ˋˏ ღ "army needs to see my bike!"

-ˋˏ ღ sometimes he doesnt even understand his strength cuz one time when you were on his favorite spot on the couch, he picked you up so fast

-ˋˏ ღ HIS FACE WAS SO SHOCKED

-ˋˏ ღ "YAH! WHY'D YOU DO THAT?"

-ˋˏ ღ "Why are you so light? Are you sure you're eating enough?"

-ˋˏ ღ "DID YOU FORGET YOU GO TO THE GYM ALMOST EVERYDAY?"

-ˋˏ ღ you and bts work together on babysitting namjoon always

-ˋˏ ღ you also know about the fact he watches porn.. a lot

—KIM SEOKJIN ; jin !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: jinna

-ˋˏ ღ you two are such a handful oh my god

-ˋˏ ღ even though he's the oldest, he acts like a baby with you and whines about everything

-ˋˏ ღ but then he can also baby you

-ˋˏ ღ he loves feeding you food or cooking with you on camera

-ˋˏ ღ He has 'Eat Jin' while you have 'Cook Yona' which is honestly really cute omg

-ˋˏ ღ whatever you cooked on Cook Yona, Jin would mukbang it in Eat Jin, sometimes he even shared! (barely)

-ˋˏ ღ you honestly love trying to fatten him up cause he's a sucker for food

-ˋˏ ღ usually once you guys are full, it's either you start cleaning and he starts gaming or other way around

-ˋˏ ღ one of your cute habits is whenever his break cheeks show up, you pinch them a lot

-ˋˏ ღ also he scolds (raps) you like every other member

-ˋˏ ღ you were with that one cooking episode where jungkook and taehyung were cooking, you felt so bad for them but it was hilarious to watch

-ˋˏ ღ whenever he games, you always make little snacks for him because you know he gets really mad at the game but its even worse when hes on an empty stomach (you dont want his yelling to disturb your sugar gliders)

-ˋˏ ღ you like to have jungkook over sometimes so he can play with jin since you THOUGHT that would make him yell less (no the yelling doubled.)

-ˋˏ ღ you recorded the two of them playing together and caught jin smacking jungkook for snatching his food (IT WAS FOR THE BOTH OF THEM.)

-ˋˏ ღ just dance nights are very common for the two of you after that one in the soop episode

-ˋˏ ღ fishing dates are suddenly also a thing now because he said so

-ˋˏ ღ his dad jokes make you sob on the inside, but then again the boys think of you as their mom since you worry your head off like one

-ˋˏ ღ "JAGI, IS KOOKIE OKAY?!"

-ˋˏ ღ "that brat is fine, he does dumb stuff a lot"

—MIN YOONGI ; suga !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yoona

-ˋˏ ღ to start this off, you bullied yoongi with the others.

-ˋˏ ღ BUT ITS REALLY FUNNY BECAUSE HIS REACTIONS ARE HYSTERICAL

-ˋˏ ღ YooNa moments are really hard to catch on camera, because yoongi has a preference on keeping a lot of your vulnerable moments private but when they do come up, THEY'RE ALWAYS LIKE A KDRAMA

-ˋˏ ღ there was this one scenario, both of your kpop groups were attending an event and were sat next to eachother (totally not on purpose uhuh)

-ˋˏ ღ the thing was, your company failed to think that your outfit wouldn't give you enough warmth, and the even was out in the open so you were freezing to death (BRUH)

-ˋˏ ღ and yoongles was kind enough to shrug off his coat and put it over your shoulders

-ˋˏ ღ he got rewarded with a kiss in private :)

-ˋˏ ღ whenever he has birthday lives, you're always there with him or well- you're in every live he has

-ˋˏ ღ he was wearing some goofy shades and a party hat while you were just watching

-ˋˏ ღ "you look like a clown, pabo (fool)"

-ˋˏ ღ "someone doesn't want cake"

-ˋˏ ღ you both glared at eachother after, even though you couldn't even see his eyes

-ˋˏ ღ the armies were just laughing their asses off in the chat

-ˋˏ ღ anyway, you honestly love his gummy little smile or the way he's an old man in a young body

-ˋˏ ღ your relationship reflects that statement, the both of you prefer being traditional most of the time

-ˋˏ ღ sure he loves watching movies for hours and taking a nap, but nothing would ever beat just watching the moon together

-ˋˏ ღ when he was nervous about releasing his first album, you were with him every step of the way! the production of music, drafting of ideas, the photoshoots

-ˋˏ ღ when you were gone for months on end because of a tour and press conference across the world, yoongi was absolutely depressed

-ˋˏ ღ he ended up releasing his frustration through music specifically, so far away that featured Suran

-ˋˏ ღ when you listened to it, your heart honestly shattered

-ˋˏ ღ that day, you promised yourself that you would always be with Yoongi, you will never be far from him for over 2 months, it was what made your relationship grow so much

-ˋˏ ღ you had seen every side of him, the raw energy of agustD, the creative and sweet Suga, then the truthful and reflecting Min Yoongi

-ˋˏ ღ and he had seen every part of you, Yona's love for her fans, and Y/N's truth

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you are absolutely in love, soulmates even

-ˋˏ ღ everyone is convinced that the two of you were made for eachother

-ˋˏ ღ OKAY BACK TO CRACK

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you love arguing with eachother as a joke and he just starts being a baby

-ˋˏ ღ you remember the one time you stole his last tangerine and he was so upset (not really but he wanted to be petty) that he THEN finished all the ice cream in your freezer

-ˋˏ ღ yes you ranted about this to your fans and yoongi heard, so he just walked up to you and started clinging onto you to annoy you

-ˋˏ ღ "YAH! Get off you man-child!"

-ˋˏ ღ "What if I say no"

-ˋˏ ღ "god!"

-ˋˏ ღ "Yes?"

-ˋˏ ღ you hated him being such a smart ass too but like it's okay i guess....

-ˋˏ ღ one time you slapped cat ears on his head and he was just flabbergasted while staring at you

-ˋˏ ღ (you snapped pics so fast and sent them to the guys)

-ˋˏ ღ ANYWAY you bullied him by constantly calling him cute and whatever (maybe even ahjussi)

-ˋˏ ღ ok but then he calls you a grandma too

-ˋˏ ღ sitting on his lap or on his sofa while he produces music is really calming for u

-ˋˏ ღ just baskin in eachothers presence <3

—JUNG HOSEOK ; j-hope !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yo-hope

-ˋˏ ღ he's your sunshine and you're his moon omg

-ˋˏ ღ it was such a 'sunshine and the moon that protects it' trope and the fans loved it

-ˋˏ ღ hobi was always there to cheer you up after a really stressful day at work and you loved him so much for it

-ˋˏ ღ it was absolutely amazing to come home to him after a bad day since he knew what to do to cheer u up and make u happyyy

-ˋˏ ღ when some antis were hating him, you couldn't care less if you had gotten backlash, you defended him in every way you could

-ˋˏ ღ at this point, hobi was all you could ever care about since the two of you had supported one another since day one

-ˋˏ ღ when you two announced the two of you were together, the positivity that came out was overwhelming and the both of you were absolutely overjoyed with it

-ˋˏ ღ yo-hope was one of the favorite ships in the k-pop community because of the contrast between the two of you

-ˋˏ ღ you were actually the one that got hobi to start doing lives again!!! you always encouraged him and made sure he heard the things youd end your live on

-ˋˏ ღ "Okay guys, if Hobi ever goes on live, please show him as much support and love you can! for me!"

-ˋˏ ღ and on hobi's first live, you were there and made sure to check if some of your fans had actually showed support and sure enough, it was full of usernames that were referencing your kpop group

-ˋˏ ღ you and hobi are almost inseparable unless absolutely necessary because whenever you arent around, sweet boy feels so incomplete

-ˋˏ ღ there are like hundreds of compilations of Yo-Hope moments, a lot of the time you would just walk up to hobi and cling on him cause you need your charger

-ˋˏ ღ HIS JOY IS YOUR JOY

-ˋˏ ღ You love watching the boys kinda just grab hobi and hug him too, cuz he really is bangtan's sunshine

-ˋˏ ღ when the maknaes mess around with hobi, you swear hobi should be in the maknae line

-ˋˏ ღ whenever hobi is about to collapse laughing, you always catch him while laughing yourself (you cant deny it, there are 10 minute compilations of it)

-ˋˏ ღ you know when he has his moments when he's really stressed and down, overthinking about a lot, but you're always there to keep him up

-ˋˏ ღ you'll always be his moon, his partner, his soulmate :)

-ˋˏ ღ okay not going to lie, you and yoongi have beef over who gets jhope more (literally glaring at eachother from across the room)

-ˋˏ ღ it's okay though! the both of u decided to glare at anyone who messes with hobi

-ˋˏ ღ (i'm totally not buttering u guys up bcuz jimin's hcs r so funny)

-ˋˏ ღ Jack in the Box was a wild experience for you, Jay was a whole other entity when you watched him perform

-ˋˏ ღ hobi wanted to show armies that he wasn't all smiles and that he also struggled, YOU WERE ALL FOR IT!!!!

—PARK JIMIN ; jimin !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yomin

-ˋˏ ღ jimin.. the punching bag of bangtan for the amount of funny and embarrassing stuns he has pulled

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you are such lover girl x lover boy though

-ˋˏ ღ jimin could care less about the cameras around, he wants his baby!! the editors can deal with cutting it out!!!!

-ˋˏ ღ he loves to just like.. snatch you away from everyone and like keep you on his lap

-ˋˏ ღ "jimin, can I get off-"

-ˋˏ ღ "No"

-ˋˏ ღ In terms of man child-ness, he and taehyung are verrryyy close

-ˋˏ ღ sometimes the three of you hangout, taehyung ends up being like the sibling you bring around while you and your s/o go out and buying the kid so much food

-ˋˏ ღ at this point, you don't know if taehyung comes for the food or for the companionship BUT ANYWAY back to jimin

-ˋˏ ღ you and jimin act like such a married couple (hes totally not planning to propose uhuh mhm yessir on god)

-ˋˏ ღ the two of you bicker and then end up having a whole kdrama scene and I think the other BTS members are really tired of it but who cares you two love eachother

-ˋˏ ღ the way you two guys met was the funniest part

-ˋˏ ღ you and him were hosting together, and while interviewing someone at a table and sitting down, jimin immediately fell down on live

-ˋˏ ღ you were fighting for your life to not laugh while the interviewee was just there flabbergasted

-ˋˏ ღ that's how you two became such a lover girl and lover boy couple

-ˋˏ ღ when his new album came out, he absolutely demanded you would make a cameo in the 'Like Crazy' mv and you ended up in it

-ˋˏ ღ so now you're in the theories for the music video but like it's okay cause they're entertaining

-ˋˏ ღ jimin probably reads fanfics of YoMin and he loves to be shameless about it when he's with you.. what a brat

-ˋˏ ღ speaking about brat, he has such an attitude sometimes oh my god

-ˋˏ ღ out of everyone, he also has such a strong satoori and it's funny and scary at the same time

-ˋˏ ღ HE SOUNDS SO CONDESCENDING- he loves using it when a guy tries harrassing you while the both of you are out

-ˋˏ ღ You know that one video with Taehyung and Jimin together, and Jimin starts threatening you in Satoori? Yeah imagine that 💀

-ˋˏ ღ he's so mean sometimes too I swear- he loves teasing and bullying you

-ˋˏ ღ In the name of your stans, you will beat Jimin up one day, just not today

-ˋˏ ღ when the both of you are live and you find yourself without your indoor slippers he's yelling at you like:

-ˋˏ ღ "WEAR YOUR SLIPPERS PROPERLY"

-ˋˏ ღ "URUSAI (SHUT UP IN JAPANESE FOR SOME REASON?)"

-ˋˏ ღ The armies and stans were just watching this happen like it was normal. They're all used to how you and Jimin are like when the two of you are together

-ˋˏ ღ They saw you smack jimin and then Jimin stared at the camera with his mouth agape

-ˋˏ ღ "ARMYYY SHE JUST HIT ME"

-ˋˏ ღ and then the messages were like "BEAT HIM UP Y/N" "GO OFF QUEEN" "MOREEEEEE 🤾🏻‍♀️🤾🏻‍♀️" "let her COOK"

-ˋˏ ღ and suddenly jimin was lying down on the floor while you scrolled on your phone

-ˋˏ ღ yeah you made him beg for forgiveness

—KIM TAEHYUNG ; V !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: taena

-ˋˏ ღ "tan-ahh don't keep Y/N all to yourself!!"

-ˋˏ ღ you were yeontan's momma ever since you and taehyung got together and it was obvious who was tannie's favorite

-ˋˏ ღ you loved to take pictures with yeontan and post it on social media, showing the world the adorable teacup pom with his popular momma! all with taehyung's permission of course

-ˋˏ ღ in one of taehyung's very much rare lives, the three of you were in bed with acoustic music playing in the back

-ˋˏ ღ though the live was very short, armies could fully see the love and admiration taehyung had for you

-ˋˏ ღ actually- he even decided to kiss you in front of the cam 😭

-ˋˏ ღ the next day, the clip was all over social media, taehyung personally thinking they're just overreacting about the whole ordeal like he's not one of the most powerful men in Korea 💀💀

-ˋˏ ღ but tae is your baby tbh (he's the goofy little dork in the relationship and you have to take care of him)

-ˋˏ ღ taehyung has this one cute habit where if he goes on live, he HAS to talk about your idol career or you in general at least.. like three times

-ˋˏ ღ everyone needs to know the beauty of Korea is his of course!!

-ˋˏ ღ you honestly love listening to his deep husky voice in their songs.. you love all of them but nothing beats taehyung's solo songs for you (they are in your everyday playlist)

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you love to wear matching outfits when you have to go out, and the fans go wild for it!

-ˋˏ ღ I swear to god you've seen a shirt with a picture of u and taehyung matching on it 😭

-ˋˏ ღ whenever your schedules let you, the three of you like to go out in the early morning to walk around the empty streets of seoul like a little family

-ˋˏ ღ this doesnt stop taehyung from wanting 3-5 kids in the future though

-ˋˏ ღ you and taehyung absolutely value time together since the both of you are constantly doing someone with their idol career, but at the end of the day

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you still lay in the same bed just admiring eachother

-ˋˏ ღ taehyung maybe locking yeontan out of the room if he was feeling a bit frisky that night

-ˋˏ ღ but anyway, this little dork loves showing you the random stuff he buys and it's honestly concerning and funny at the same time

-ˋˏ ღ and he's so freaking blunt about it omfg

-ˋˏ ღ "look at that chair with an ass on it" "tae, jagi, what the fu-"

-ˋˏ ღ AND THE HAS LIKE 10 RAMEN COOKERS IN HIS HOUSE HELP SAVE Y/N

-ˋˏ ღ even then, he still wants you to cook for him cause he's a lil baby that can't take care of himself omg

-ˋˏ ღ taehyung loves to abuse his tata mic face on you and it makes it so hard to say no to him, the situation goes like:

-ˋˏ ღ "Jagi, I want a bread maker"

-ˋˏ ღ "Tae, no, why in the name of Bang-PD would we need a bread maker??"

-ˋˏ ღ *tata mic face*

-ˋˏ ღ "oh my god- you are such a baby, fine ugh"

-ˋˏ ღ tae also has this one habit of like making up his own language or something, and the fact that you've spent years with him and as his soulmate, you are his translator alongside Suga

-ˋˏ ღ you find it absolutely endearing and adorable though

-ˋˏ ღ you know how taehyung is blunt yeah? he has said with a straight face before the following:

-ˋˏ ღ "If this idol thing doesn't work out for us, we should become a farm family and have an army of 5 kids and then an army of chickens to attack jimin-shi when he visits us"

-ˋˏ ღ lord have mercy on Y/N- WAIT 5 KIDS? 💀

—JEON JUNGKOOK ; jungkook !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yokook

-ˋˏ ღ the only thing he likes about the two of you being idols is that the both of you have a gigantic privilege

-ˋˏ ღ he absolutely hates the fact that the two of you lack privacy and the hate that comes from some 'army' (bruh)

-ˋˏ ღ other than that, he still is absolutely in love with you, full of adoration in his adorable doe eyes

-ˋˏ ღ you know how he's the ambassador of Calvin Klein? You're also an ambassador so CK decided a couple shoot with the both of you would be good coverage for them

-ˋˏ ღ another pro about the couple shoot is that you can make it clear to your fans that the both of you are very much devoted to each other

-ˋˏ ღ weekly training together is a must! an absolute must!!! or else kookie will get sulky and sad for the rest of the week and cry to bam or something

-ˋˏ ღ on one of his late night lives, you had walked into the room while he was talking to army, he had the galaxy doohickey on and a candle next to him

-ˋˏ ღ "hi tokki" you greeted him with a soft smile

-ˋˏ ღ "noona!" he immediately took his attention off the chat to walk to you and give you a kiss

-ˋˏ ღ the army were going crazy in chat with "YOKOOK!!" "MY SHIP SAILED" "Love to YoKook from ___!! <3"

-ˋˏ ღ after the small kiss the both of you sat on the couch and you greet the army with a wave and lazy grin

-ˋˏ ღ you and jungkook made some small talk while some music played on the tv, you could only assume that he was doing some karaoke before you got home

-ˋˏ ღ while the two of you talked, you caught a glimpse from chat that includes "Kookie looks so inlove with her🥺🥺", "He grew up so fast and now he has an amazing gf 😭", "His eyes tell so much!!!!"

-ˋˏ ღ the smile that appeared on your face couldn't be contained, the moment jungkook saw your smile, he turned to look at the source and he couldn't help but smile himself at all the comments

-ˋˏ ღ "Thank you for all the support, Army. I'll always hold Army, BTS, and Y/N close to my heart"

-ˋˏ ღ honestly you made him pull out the slight busan accent (its so hot bruh wtf the little sigh at the end) and you loved the way it sounded

-ˋˏ ღ You went to go do a quick errand in your shared bedroom so you left Kook alone in the living room to do whatever he was doing

-ˋˏ ღ what you came back to was absolutely adorable and hilarious.

-ˋˏ ღ you saw a kookie in slumber, a chat going wild the moment they saw you, and the candle still burning.

-ˋˏ ღ you laughed as you read some of the comments from chat and blew out the candle, you bid army farewell with a promise that you will take care of the golden maknae

reblog or like if you enjoyed!

#: ̗̀➛beige basement writes #: ̗̀➛mommy fries writing #beige basement writes #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim seokjin x reader #bts fluff #bts x reader fluff #bts x female reader

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sturniologals · 10 months ago

Text

Say it. {M.S}

*AN~ this is a lil long ngl but it is SO worth it i swear. I literally love this sm and i’m willing to write a part two with smut in it but this one is just cutesies and angst and just ughhhh😫

pairing: matt x reader, friends to enemies to lovers (it’s a long ride yall😭)

~warnings~ fluff, cursing

5.1k words

summary: y/n and Matt had an unbreakable bond until y/n’s 16th birthday when an argument took place that changed their dynamic and now, y/n’s 17th birthday is coming up and she really wants her best friend back and the world is working in her favor because Matt ends up offering her driving lessons where feelings are re hatched.

“I told you this wasn’t a good idea” I say to Chris as i hit my forehead on the steering wheel in frustration.

“I’m starting to think you’re right. This is the sixth curb you’ve hit in the last 20 minutes.” I turn my head at him and shoot him a snide look.

“It’s not y/n’s fault that you don’t have the mental capacity to teach her to drive. You can barely drive yourself.” Nick says, shooting up from the backseat. I laugh and put the car into park.

I slide out of the drivers seat and walk around the car so me and chris can switch spots.

On the drive home, nick and chris argue over who gets aux and i can’t help but to zone out and think about how i’m turning 17 in less than a month and i still can’t drive, but i’m lucky to have the best friends that i do. Nick especially, he’s always there when i’m going through something, he can always make me laugh when i need it. Chris is just chris. Hes hardly ever serious about anything but when he knows i’m going through something, he always finds the will. And matt… he’s hardly ever around me, and when he is, it’s just side glances full of what i think is hatred.

It’s been like that ever since my last birthday. My boyfriend at the time, Blake, got mad at me because of matt and I’s friendship.

Flashback to y/n’s 16th birthday:

“Oh my god you are oblivious!” blake shouts at me.

“Can you keep it down?” i say knowing that my family and friends are downstairs waiting for me to cut the cake and blow out my candles and i’m in my room arguing with my boyfriend who i honestly don’t have feelings for anymore. I’m not sure i ever even did.

Blake runs his hands over his face and i can see the vein in his forehead flexing.

“Blake what are we even arguing about right now?” I say bored and annoyed, wanting to go back downstairs and see what gift Matt got me.

I was eavesdropping on Chris and Matt a week ago and heard them talking about how much i’m gonna love what Matt got me.

“Y/n are you actually that dumb or are you just trying to piss me off?” blake questions me with annoyance and i feel myself shudder at him calling me dumb, reminding me of the words my father would spat at me every day right up until he died.

“Don’t call me dumb, and i’m not trying to piss you off, i genuinely don’t know why you’ve been mad at me all night.” i try to keep my voice steady, not wanting to cry.

“Matt” he says in a stern voice as if i’m supposed to know what he’s talking about immediately.

“What about him?” I say, wondering why he’s mad at me over the person i’m closest to. I’d never tell blake that though. He thinks he knows everything about me but the truth is, Matt has known everything about me since I was ten years old.

When I scraped my knee while we were riding bikes when i was 12, he gave me bandaids and a shoulder to cry on and after he let me play mario kart with him all day. When i was 14 and got my first boyfriend who broke up with me after a week, Matt was there to call him an idiot and ask if i wanted him to beat him up. So Blake has no place to say anything about Matt, not when he knows how much Matt means to me.

“Y/n! Did you just hear a word of what i said?” blake says, shocking me back to the present and i realize i’ve zoned out the last thirty seconds. I do that a lot.

“Uhm no sorry, i zoned out.” I say quietly, not wanting him to yell. He huffs out a breath and shakes his head as if he’s refraining from saying something.

“You and matt. Did anything happen? ever?” He asks sternly.

“No! What? No! Why would you-“ I start to list reasons why i don’t like matt like that and never could but i can’t come with any so i stop talking.

“Why would i think that?” He says, finishing my sentence.

“Yes blake, why would you think that?”

“Theirs a million fucking reasons! Oh my god!”

His face is as red as a strawberry which makes me think of my strawberry cake downstairs that i so desperately want to get back to. But, i also want to know what he’s going to say about Matt, so i suck it up and listen.

“You’re with him more than your with me, you’re always zoning out and being all sad and shit when your with me but when your with matt- your all fucking giggly and laughing and smiling and actually speaking! I can hardly ever get a word out of you! And hell y/n, even if you don’t see him like that, I can take one peek at the way he looks at you and see that he sure as hell does feel like that about you and I don’t want my girlfriend all cozy with someone who so obviously has feelings for them.” He finishes off his rant breathlessly, leaving me thinking about a lot of things. Matt, Matthew, Matty, and how much i want to eat some of my birthday cake right now.

“I don’t know what you want me to say blake” i say truthfully. I don’t even know what i’m feeling, what i’ve felt ever at any point in any time. It’s all too confusing and i’ve decided to collectively ignore this situation and continue to be grateful i have my best friend and a strawberry cake with Jacob Elordi’s face on it waiting on me downstairs.

“you don’t need to say anything.” He says in a determined voice.

“Are you breaking up with me? on my birthday?”

He looks like wants to say yes he is but doesn’t. He just walks in front of me to the door and opens it. I go behind him and standing at the door, is Matt.

“Great” Blake scoffs and passes Matt up as he heads down the stairs. I can feel the tears swelling in my eyes and I don’t even think it’s because of Blake. I’m almost 99.9 percent sure that it’s because of the pure confusion and panic about what Blake said about Matt.

“y/n” Matt says in a low voice, he looks as if he wants to reach out and touch me but he doesn’t.

“Matt” I say with a frown on my face and I immediately fall into the comfort of his arms. His scent smells so comforting as i nuzzle my face into the crook under his chin.

“How much of that did you hear?” my voice comes out muffled from his hoodie.

“Enough to know why he broke up with you.” He says quietly as if he’s scared to upset me again.

“Can we not talk about it?” I say even though i feel like he definitely wants to.

“Yeah no it’s whatever we don’t have to talk about it. Come blow out your candles, yeah?” he says removing me from his arms and his voice instantly changing to more stern and cold. I haven’t felt like this around Matt since I accidentally let his pet bunny out of its cage and it escaped in the 7th grade.

“Matt-“ I start to tell him that we can talk about it, that i think i have feelings for him but i’m confused, that i love him and i just don’t want anything to change- but i don’t. I let my voice falter as he walks down the stairs. I follow behind after getting myself together for a few moments.

The whole time while we’re cutting the cake and i blow out my candles and then I open up my last gift, Matt’s eyes are trained to be anywhere that’s not on me. His normal semi- talkative self has now changed to a silent, closed off one.

After i sit down the digital camera that nick got me, I wait for Matt to pull out the gift that he and chris thought i would love. He never does, and I don’t question it. I watch chris nudge Matt on the arm and Matt shake his head, a movement so subtle that i wouldn’t have seen it unless i hadn’t been staring at Matt endlessly the whole last hour.

Present-

“Y/n, hey, helloooo, hiii” Nicks voice brings me back out of the memory.

“Yep, right here. Sorry.” I say as i unbuckle my seat and get out of the car. Matt has continued to be cold towards me ever since that day and i don’t think i’m ever going to be used to it. It’s not like he’s mean to me but i feel like he doesn’t care. Anytime i try to interact with him, he acts as if he’s not interested in what i have to say so i’ve stopped trying with him. I don’t know why he switched up all of a sudden and everyday i miss my bestfriend, anytime something bad happens, I always go back to the old familiar feeling of wanting to run to Matt and tell him what happened, and i have to refrain from doing so. It always hurts, but I know it’s for the better.

Nick unlocks the front door and me and Chris follow in after him.

I kick my sneakers off at the door and I find myself looking for Matt.

“Matts around here somewhere. He said he had to stay home to study.” Nick says as if he read my mind.

“Matt? studying? No way.” Chris retorts while sitting down at the kitchen island with a bag of popcorn.

“What’s he doing?” I ask, stealing a piece of popcorn from Chris and popping it into my mouth.

“Hell if I know.” Nick says while pouring some trix cereal into a bowl.

“Why don’t you go see what he’s up to?” Chris asks me and nick looks at him as if he’s just asked me to kick a puppy.

“Okay” i say, trying to appear as unbothered as possible but the truth is i’m really excited to talk to Matt.

I quickly jog up the stairs and reach the door to Matt’s room that i barely ever pass through anymore. I take a deep breath in and Knock twice.

“It’s me” I say loudly so he can hear.

“Come in” Matt shouts from behind the door. I slowly open the door and see Matt sitting at his desk playing a game with his headset on. Half of the headset is pushed back behind his ear so he can see me. He turns around in his swivel chair and stares at me like he’s waiting for me to ask him something. We never did need a reason to talk to each other, we just did. And today, nostalgia has been eating at me so I make the decision to blurt out

“I miss you”, I say it so quickly that my brain doesn’t process it till seconds later.

“Uhm sorry I don’t know why i said that- well, no i do know why i said that. I said it because I miss you but i know it’s odd because i said it out of nowhere but nostalgias been getting to me all day-“ I sit down on the edge of his bed. “And i don’t know I just wanted to tell you i miss you- and Matt and Chris took me driving today and I hit four curbs. FOUR Matt. I’m never going to get my license.” I say the last part into one of matts fuzzy blue pillows.

I let out a groan and throw my hands back.

Matt’s silence makes me turn my head towards him. He’s just staring at me, smiling-no, he’s cheesing. Matt hasn’t looked at me like that in almost a year. We haven’t talked like this an almost a year.

“What?” I say with a chuckle and i feel my cheeks heat up and a familiar feeling i always get in my stomach when i’m around Matt comes back.

“Nothing, i just missed hearing you talk” His voice grew quieter at the last few words, as if they accidentally slipped out.

My breath hitches and thoughts run through my mind. I want to tell him that i’d talk until my voice goes out, that i want him to make me yell until my voice doesn’t goes out. All the ways he could shut me up makes my stomach turn and my hands go clammy.

“Oh” is all i can manage. He smiles at me and turns back to his desk.

“I’m gonna take you driving tomorrow. Be ready at 4, i’ll come get you.” He says while putting his headset back on.

I can’t help but to be utterly shocked at him saying he wants to take me driving. Matt volunteering to spend time with me. I’m happily surprised.

As i walk out of his room, I can see him still smiling through the reflection on his computer.

I shut the door behind me and walk downstairs to tell Chris and nick about the breakthrough i just made.

“Yup I told you guys i was gonna get him back in the groove of y/n!” i say smiling and gesturing at myself.

“What the fuck, don’t do that again” Nick says and we all burst out into laughter.

“See you tomorrow y/n” Chris says as he shuts the door behind me and i walk across the street to my house that sits directly in-front of them.

I tell my mom about how Matt’s taking me driving tomorrow and she smiles and tells me she’s happy that we’re talking again and I go up to my room and fall asleep thinking about Matt and how he said he missed hearing me talk. I can’t help but to feel desire grow in my stomach and the wanting to slip my hands into my underwear and relieve some of the pressure but i fall asleep before my thoughts continue.

The next day, I wake up and find the blue sundress that sits right above my knees, I know Matt loves this dress. He bought it for me last Christmas. I pair it with a pair of tan sandals and once i hear the horn of Matt’s car, i walk down stairs and out the door.

I see Matt in his car, one elbow propped against the console and his other hand on the wheel, he’s wearing a black t shirt that lets all of his tattoos be shown. My god, he’s had to have gotten more since the last time i’ve saw his arm. I think I have a thing for Matt’s tattoos. I’ve always wanted to run my mouth along every one of them and watch Matt squirm underneath me.

His jaw is tense and his eyes impossibly blue in the sunlight shining through.

“Are you gonna get in?” Matt says rolling the passenger window down so he can talk to me. I move from my position on the sidewalk and get into the car.

The scent of leather and coffee instantly hits my nostrils and even in this weather, I can’t help but to feel cold at Matt’s switch in behavior.

I slide into the passenger seat and Matt’s hands reach over and slide my seatbelt across my chest, his knuckles grazing my chest sending shivers through me. He buckles it in and clears his throat before switching in the ignition.

“Matt?” I utter out whilst his focus is fully on the road ahead.

“Yeah, y/n?” he says softly, almost an apologetic tone after his first one when he pulled up.

“Nothing, nevermind.” I say, trying to think of a subject change because I’ve decided to take good Matt while i can get him.

He looks at me as if he knows what i was going to say but he doesn’t pressure it.

“So i thought we’d get something to eat then we could go to the college parking lot and practice?” Matt asks while turning the radio on, keeping it low.

“Uh…yeah,sure” I say, feeling like old times but not. I feel the remains of our friendship, just as strong as it was 11 months ago but now, the tension in the car is enough to smother me.

We drive the 3 minute drive to downtown in silence but I keep catching Matt stealing glances at me. I keep noticing his eyes scanning across my legs, skimming over my dress. It’s enough to force me to cross my legs, not because i’m uncomfortable but because i’m desperate to relieve some of the tension.

We park into the restaurant Matt brought us to, my heart palpitates once I realize just where he brought us. It’s not a restaurant, it’s a diner. It was our favorite place to go to the last few summers. Matt and I would come out here every weekend and get a banana milkshake and share a slice of cherry pie.

“Aw Matt you must not hate me completely!” I say sarcastically as i slap his shoulder playfully and get out of the car. Matt gets out and follows behind me up the sidewalk and I feel his hand on my lower back.

“I don’t hate you at all y/n.” He says quietly from beside me.

“It’s more complicated than that” He says before ruffling my hair and picking up his pace to get in front of me to open the glass door to the diner.

When i walk in, in front of him, I don’t say anything and just immediately head for the booth in the corner we always sat at. The red leather booths and white tables are all still the same, the dim lights barely doing anything although they don’t necessarily need to considering the summer sun lights up the place all by its self.

Matt sits down in front of me, sliding into the booth with ease. The waitress almost immediately comes up behind us. “Jill!” i say happily not knowing that she still worked here, she’s worked here since we were kids and was always the sweetest.

“Y/n and Matt… why haven’t i seen you two in here in so long?” she says, her wrinkles more apparent now from the last time i saw her, the gray in her hair showing more.

“Oh uh” I start stuttering, not knowing what to say

“Sorry jill, y/n got diagnosed with lactose intolerance. She kept farting so we stopped coming in here!” Matt says smiling deviously.

“That- that is-“ I start to protest but stop. “That’s right. Yup, blew my britches away!” I say laughing towards jill but side eyeing Matt with all i could muster. Jill smiles and nods but looks suspicious.

“So what’ll it be?” she asks us, her pen and pad ready.

“Two banana shakes with extra cherries and a piece of cherry pie.” Matt says quickly, ordering the exact order we always got.

Jill arches a brow. “I thought you said she’s lactose int-“ she starts to question but I cut her off.

“Oh just for old times sake! i’m taking a stomach pill too, i’ll be fine” i say giving her my cheesiest grin. She nods in agreement and walks away with our order.

As soon as she’s a few feet away Matt breaks out laughing.

“Seriously?!?” I say trying to act mad knowing i secretly want to laugh too.

Matt rolls his eyes at my obvious dramatics and leans up towards the table, resting his elbows on it. “So how bad are you at driving? You gonna wreck us immediately?” He asks with a smirk that i know all too well.

“Yeah haha so funny.” I snark back.

“You didn’t answer the question.” He says with raised eyebrows, waiting on my answer.

“No i’m not gonna wreck us…immediately.” I say the last word a bit quieter.

“hey i’m joking, i know you probably suck right now but that’s because you haven’t had one teach you that actually knows how to fucking drive. You’ll catch onto it fast. You always have been a quick learner” he says in a more serious tone. I notice his hand is not even an inch away from my mine and i jerk my hand back quickly. My movement makes his eyebrows jerk up and he looks like he’s about to say something but he stops when jill appears back with our shakes.

“Just a minute on the pie” she says smiling while handing us the pale yellow shakes with whipped cream and a two cherries on top.

We take our shakes and start to sip on them when jill walks off.

“Mmm” he moans in delight.

“Good?” i ask him smiling.

“yep” he says while chewing on the straw.

It’s silent for a moment as we just stare at each other. We haven’t held eye contact this long in months. My loud mouth just has to break the silence tho.

“Hey Matt, can i ask you something?” I can see something in his eyes change, he looks unsettled. Like he’s scared of the un-knowingness of what i’m gonna ask.

After he hums in agreement I muster up the courage to ask him. “Can we-“ i take a deep breath in. After a moment of him looking at me, as if he’s begging me to just say it. I chicken out. Like a fucking coward. I don’t want the pie anymore, i’m not hungry, i just want to go. “Can we go?” i say, stiffening my body. Matt’s face falls in disappointment and nods his head.

I watch him as he tells jill to put the pie in a box and he pays the bill before walking out in front of me without so much as looking at me.

I walk out behind him and I notice it’s going to storm soon. Clouds are forming and the sky is darkening so i get to the car quickly. I slide into the passenger seat, Matt throws the buckle over me quickly without touching me and i can tell his nostrils are flared like he’s angry but i choose not to say anything.

Again, I leave all of my feelings bottled up because i’m too scared of saying anything i feel.

We drive in silence and the only noise is the traffic surrounding us and the patter of my foot bouncing in anxiety. We get to the parking lot and thank goodness it’s mostly empty so theirs not much i could hit.

For a moment, it’s silent and Matts eyes dart over to mine and with the way he looks, I can’t tell if he’s about to cry, yell, or run away. It’s such a fragile situation and I don’t know what to do. Only to wait and see what he says.

“y/n…” He breathes out a sigh but his eyes flinch and he sits up straight. “Uh nevermind let’s get started, it’s about to rain.” He cannot be serious. I need him to say it because i’m too afraid to and I know. I know i’m selfish, I know i’m a coward but i still push at him.

“No, matt what was you gonna say?” I turn my body to his and I grab his wrist away from the ignition. His eyes shoot down to where i’m holding onto him but I don’t move, i keep my hand over his.

“I said never fucking mind” each word coming out like a needle against my skin. I can tell he sees the hurt in my eyes because his eyes quickly softens.

“I’m sorry” he says quietly, and i can see the conflict in his eyes. I want to know what’s going on in his head so fucking bad.

“No wait, i’m not sorry.” as he says this, the rain starts pattering against the windshield but I don’t move my eyes away from his.

“what?” i say, i’m not angry, just confused. I want him to let me in. I need him to let me in.

“Forget i said anything, I can’t have this conversation with you.” He says, shaking his head.

“Great it’s fucking raining! Now we can’t have our driving lessons because I don’t think you could drive on a normal road- hardly a wet one” He shouts, not at me, but at the wheel.

I don’t get hurt at his words because I can tell he’s not mad about the lesson, he’s not mad because i suck at driving but because we both want to say it but we don’t know the other one does. I’m almost completely sure Matt has feelings for me but i’m so scared that he doesn’t, that i stay silent. I think he feels the same way. I get the frustration. I’ve felt it too, although i think he’s felt it for much longer.

“Matt” I coo, bringing my hand up to the side of his neck. He immediately jerks away and starts to open the door.

“Fuck y/n, don’t touch me.” he spats out before quickly getting out of the car and stepping into the pouring rain that has tremendously picked up over the last two minutes. I quickly follow behind him and open the door.

“Matt, it’s pouring! Get back in the car!” I shout, trying to speak loud enough so that he can hear me over the rain.

We both are standing in front of the car, only maybe a foot and a half away from each other.

“say it Matt” I say sternly, feeling tears brew in my eyes. Matt only shakes his head no and looks as if he’s struggling to breathe.

“No y/n, I want to hear you. You fucking say it. Stop being such a coward y/n.”

I feel tears fall but i don’t think he can tell because of the raindrops also falling onto my face.

“Matt do you understand how much i’ve missed you? You were my best friend” I say, now sobbing and putting my heads on my head, moving my feet around taking small steps.

“You left me. You’ve looked at me like you’ve hated me ever since my sixteenth birthday and you��ve never even had the audacity to tell me why!” I shout at him.

Matt’s eyes grow huge and he looks so frustrated. “You cannot be serious. Do you seriously not know why?!” I flinch at how loud he’s yelling but shake my head no slowly

“My god y/n, I couldn’t be around you, not after-“ he stops.

i shake my head in confusion. “What Matt?! after what?!”

“After you told me that you didn’t want to fucking talk about the fact that i’m in love with you! You didn’t care about me. Or my feelings, you didn’t care that i’d suffer just because you didn’t want our friendship to change. Hell, you could’ve at least rejected me and moved on but y/n…i couldn’t be just your friend. Not after that. So yes, i kept away. Also, for fucks sake, i wasn’t looking at you with hatred. Anytime you’d come into view, it made me want to curl up into a fucking ball and never come out because I had to look at you and know that i could never have you. Do you know how much that fucking hurts?!”

The rain pouring down coating Matt’s brown hair making it droop down onto his forehead makes it hard to read his expression but I can still tell what he’s feeling right now. I always have been able to just know.

“Matt- You have got to believe me when i tell you i didn’t know. I didn’t know, even on my birthday when Blake said all of that, yes i thought you might’ve just found me attractive sometimes or something, but i didn’t want to talk about it because i thought you was embarrassed and it would be awkward or- fuck i don’t know. But Matt-“ I start laughing, unable to contain how funny i find the absolutely ironic situation we’re in right now.

“You find this funny?” he asks me

“No, No- actually well- it kind of is because- Matt I love you, so fucking much and ever since you stopped being my best friend, i had to see you and it was complete and total agony because like you said earlier- i’m a coward Matt. And i’ve been completely oblivious to the way you’ve felt about me and i didn’t want things to change- so I didn’t say anything. But now I’m telling you, I miss you and I love you and I don’t want to be your friend Matt. “

I finish off breathlessly, panting, trying to draw in air without the droplets of rain.

Matt comes closer and places his hands on the sides of me head before moving the wet hair off of my face.

“I think that we are both fucking idiots and waisted eleven months of what could’ve been filled with this” And then his lips are crashing onto mine, the kiss is rough and desperate as Matt tugs and nips on my lips with his teeth. His lips are soft and pillowy like I’ve always thought they would be. I can’t help but to think about how long i’ve wanted this, how long ever both wanted this. It feels just as good, and right, as i thought it would.

After a few more moments, Matt pulls away, leaving a mix of saliva and rain on my lips.

“Let’s go before we get pneumonia” Matt says laughing as he pulls me towards his car.

I slide into the passenger seat, my dress dripping and my hair plastered to my skin with rain. Matt gets in and reaches over to buckle my seatbelt. I smile at the gesture and he rolls his eyes before turning on the ignition.

“Will you still take me out driving tomorrow?” I ask.

“Yeah of course” he says as he starts to back out, placing his right arm on the headrest of my seat and turning his neck back to see out the back window. The sight makes me shift in my seat. His veins in his arms are drool worthy and the way his clothes are sticking to him, really helps my imagination.

“y/n” he deadpans, turning back around.

“Hm?” I ask, snapping out of my thoughts.

“your staring.” he says, smirking.

“i’m allowed to.” I say smiling.

“Since when?” He asks while pulling out of the parking lot.

“since you became my boyfriend.” I say smiling dramatically.

“Oh yeah? what do i get?” Matt asks smirking.

“Hmm, we’ll see.” I shrug.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo oneshot

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bellysoupset · 3 months ago

Text

"Hey man, you busy?"

Daniel's head snapped up so quickly he felt his neck cracking. He winced, grabbing it to rub it and tried not blush out of embarrassment. Monacelli was hanging at his door, looking incredibly amused, his bag slung over his arm and falling near his hip, blocking most of the sunlight from entering the classroom.

Max recovered quickly, clearing his throat and looking back to the task at hand. He was putting away the dried dishes utilized during his chem experiment with the 14 year old kids, the bell having already rung signifying the end of school day, "No," he dried his hands on his bleach stained jeans and crouched down to put away the beakers, "just finishing up here, why?"

"You got any plans for tonight?"

Max thanked god his head was inside the cabinet and Vince couldn't see his surprised expression. Without looking at the man, he shrugged, "nope..." in truth, he had plans alright. Make himself dinner, get high and watch a movie in the tv, probably crash his own couch.

"Great, I'm taking you out!"

Now Max straightened up, hitting his head in the inside of the cabinet. He let out a whine, rubbing at the sore spot, "...What?" the words came out strangled and Vince let out a chuckle.

"So, turns out it's your birthday today?" Vince leaned against the door, "I'm guessing you're aware of that."

"No, first time hearing it," Max rolled his eyes, "I don't care about my birthday, man, you don't ha-"

"I'm not asking," Vince squinted at him and Max gulped down, cursing himself. He hadn't realized how much... How nice Vin was to look at, "get your shit, I'm waiting for you in the parking lot!"

Max felt ridiculous as he grabbed his bag in the teacher's lounge and went to meet with Monacelli in the parking lot. He hadn't had a crush in a lifetime, since his high school years and Max hated the clammy feeling in his hands or the fluttering in his stomach. Not only it felt childish, but it was completely out of place, Vince was very very taken. He needed to digest those butterflies.

"So what's the plan?" Max walked towards his own pick-up, noticing Vince had already put away his bag under his bike's seat.

"I wasn't sure what was your style, so I came up with a couple ideas," Vince scratched as his cheek in an embarrassed manner and Max raised his eyebrows. More than one option?

"Let's hear them," he leaned against his car, throwing his bag in the passenger seat.

"We hit the bar down your street, what's the name again? Stache's?"

"Uh-hu."

"So yeah, Stache's, then we go up La Dolce Vitta for cake," Vince raised his thumb in order to mark it as option 1, then uncurled his index finger to show it was a new option, "or we can go to the community soccer game and finish it up with beers at the Stache's," he uncurled his middle finger, "or we can go bowling and order the cake from La Dolce Vitta. I'm open for ideas, too."

Max's mouth was dry like a desert. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had remembered his birthday and here was Vince, just some dude he had met nearly six months ago and actively disliked for five of these, with three options of celebration.

"All of them suck?" Vince pouted, misunderstanding his silence, "I don't know, what do you do for fun? Go to a shooting club?"

"Sometimes I hike," Max answered unhelpfully, feeling completely thrown out, "soccer- Soccer's cool."

"Oh yeah?" Vince brightened up like a labrador puppy, opening a huge smile, "okay. Soccer it is -" he squinted then, "but don't expect me to go easy on you just because it's your birthday."

"Oh nooo, whatever will I do," Max rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words and Vince brushed him off, sitting on top of his bike, so they could drive separately.

Doveport had a big community sport's center, but Max didn't frequent it. In fact, he was very antisocial. The opposite of Monacelli, who jumped from his bike and immediately was greeted by five other men, whom Max had never seen in his life, of various ages. Young kids just fresh out of high school, older retired men...

"Do you know everyone?" Max frowned, as he followed Vince to the locker room's that led to the small outdoor soccer field. It wasn't big, but made do, much like the other fields. One for tennis, one for volleyball, one for basketball and a pool that clearly had seen better days and no one was using.

"I talk with people," Vince shrugged, turning around and walking backwards, "you should try it, it's a wonder what being nice to other's can do."

"Yeah, sure Mary Poppins," the blonde rolled his eyes, then paused as they entered the locker rooms. He definitely couldn't play in jeans-

Vince stripped down his shirt, balling it up and throwing it in the bench in the middle of the room and Max's thoughts vanished. The brunette turned around, undoing the fly of his own jeans and frowned, pausing, "you're not gonna change?"

"I don't-" Max looked away, grimacing at his own fumbling, "I've never been here, I don't know-"

"Ah, you can't go in the field wearing jeans," Vince gestured to a big locker open in the opposite side of the room, "see? They have gym shorts and vests for you to grab. They're smelly, but whatever, I don't mind. Do you?"

"Oh, no- We just grab them?"

"Yeah," Vin nodded, "but we need to return them when we're done, of course -" he pointed at a wall with smaller lockers, "here you put your clothes and take the key, there's a board near the field to hang them up and write your name under... I can't believe you've never been here, you lived in this town your whole life, dude."

Max shrugged, glaring at his feet, "team sports are not very my speed."

"Uhm," Vince let out a judgmental huff, "c'mon, hurry up, they're about to leave the field."

-------------

Max was going to throw up.

Not just because of the fucking-ridiculous-damned butterflies, but because he had forgotten Vince was a football star. How had he forgotten that?

Sure, this was soccer, not football, but that meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. He had erroneously assumed he'd be more fit than Vince, given the man was chubby, while Max fairly slim. Wrong.

"My nonna runs faster than you, Daniels," Vince teased him, not breathless in the least, slamming that huge hand of his against Max's back. The blonde groaned, bracing against his knees, sweat running down... Well, everywhere. He was drenched in sweat, couldn't catch his breath and his lunch was threatening to come back up.

Max let out a groan, raising his middle finger and causing Vin to let out a cackle, "c'mooooon, you can still win!"

No, he couldn't! The game was mano a mano, meaning there was no goalie or other player, and yet the points were 8 goals for Vin, versus Max's measly 2 points.

"Fuck. You," Max groaned, walking out of the field and collapsing down on a bench. The older men who had been watching them snickered, other people entering the field and patting Vince's arm as they passed him by.

Max spread out his legs, clutching his chest and struggling to breathe, "fuck. Why did I pick this?"

"I don't know," Vince's voice was full of glee, "should've gone bowling, I suck at that."

The blonde raised his head, it was already past sunset and there were crickets chirping and people shouting and laughing in the background, although mostly he only heard the blood drumming in his ears.

"You fooled me."

"Nope," Vince grinned, passing him a paper cup filled with water, "you just didn't think it through."

"You're such an asshole," Max groaned, greedily chugging the water and the letting out a small burp, "I feel like I'm gonna barf."

The other man only laughed, thumping his back once more and sitting down next to him, "we'll go bowling some other night so you can stop being a sore loser."

"Shut the fuck up," Max scoffed, straightening up once he managed to let out another small burp and his lunch seemed content staying put. Sorta, the queasy feeling was still there.

"Beers now?"

He should've said no. Come up with any excuse and bailed.

However Max was having fun, even if he was dead on his feet and his head pounding from running that much, and Vince's face was all blushed, his curls sticking to his forehead and... Well. Yeah.

Stache's was a seedy bar next to Max's place, the name wasn't even actually Stache's, but everyone called it that given the sheer amount of men wearing ugly mustaches that frequented it.

Max was still dizzy from overexertion when they sat down in a little table near the door, in order to enjoy the cold night air, and Vince went to the counter to get them beers, insisting he'd buy since it was Daniel's birthday.

"Here you go," Vince planted a cold bottle in front of his eyes, then messed his hair and Max ducked his face, trying to move away from the touch.

Vince sat down in front of him, clinking their beers together, "cheers man, happy birthday."

"Thanks," Max's cheeks hurt with a blush and he busied himself chugging his beer, "how'd you find out anyway?"

"Shelley, from the front desk," Vince raised his eyebrows, "she's suuuch a gossip and happens to adore my cookie recipe."

"She is such a gossip, uh?" Max snorted, "pot calling the kettle black here," he took another big gulp, "when is yours?"

"In a month," Vin rolled his eyes, "4th of July."

Max opened a smirk, "America's most patriotic immigrant," he teased lightly, causing Vin's brows to meet and him to hesitate, "you are an immigrant, right? I'm not remembering it wrong...?"

Vince's frown cleared up, "No, I am, just didn't think- Didn't think you remembered."

"Hard to forget, I have your kid sister swearing at me in Italian every exam season," he leaned back, starting to relax. This didn't have to be weird, he could small talk.

Eight beers, each, later and Max's cheek was resting on his hand as he heard Vince prattle on about his family.

"No-" Max shook his head, then grimaced as the movement made his stomach roll. A burp sneaked up and he curled his hand in front of his lips to let it out, "we still talk, just not-" another thick burp rolled up and he made a face, hating the sensation, "not much."

"Ah, that sucks, I'm sorry," Vince sounded so sympathetic and Max rolled his eyes, knowing the guy couldn't relate in the least to Max and his distant relationship with his parents.

"Eh, it's fine," he shrugged, finishing off his beer, "we're very different people anyway."

"Do you still keep contact with those guys you used to hang out with-" Vince's squinted, trying to remember, "the big ginger kid and the asian one-"

"Tyler and Lee," Max cleared up, shaking his head, "hell no, nobody from high school. Lee's kid is in your class, though. Little girl, super cute."

Vince looked like he was trying to figure out whom out of his students, before he shook his head, dropping the subject, "met with my high school sweetheart in the grocery store the other day, that was an experience."

Max chuckled at the sarcasm, then regretted it when his stomach churned uneasily and caused him to jump with a painful hiccup, "sorry- HIC! So-Hic!- how was..." he trailed off, moving a hand under the table in order to press on his belly and Vince leaned back on his seat, finishing off his own beer.

"She seemed happy, but tried to pretend she didn't see me, so-" he raised his eyebrows as Max jumped with yet another hiccup, this one ending with a frothy burp, "you alright there, bud?"

Max groaned at the condescending nickname, before lowering his head in shame, "drank too-HIC!-fuck-" the hiccup brought with it a splash of alcohol and it burned his throat to swallow it back down.

"Aww, shit, I forgot you got the world's most sensitive gut," Vince cringed and despite his teasing words, he looked genuinely concerned, as Max's alcohol flushed cheeks started to pale, "I'm gonna get the bill."

"Here-" Max reached for his wallet, agreeing wordlessly it was time to call it night, but Vince shooed him off.

"I invited you," he circled the table, "my treat."

"Nons-" before he could complain, Vince had already left and Max was feeling too queasy to insist on the matter. Instead he collected his keys and walked outside, to the familiar bush he had already thrown up more than once in. He was a regular at Stache's.

Max braced against the brick wall of the side of the seedy bar and took a deep breath, staring at his sneakers. He wasn't drunk, far from it, but quickly decided he was gonna leave his pickup there and walk to get it in the morning. His house was just around the corner anyway.

His stomach was burning and it felt tight to the touch, letting out an upset growl when Max pressed on it. He spat in the curb, cringing at the taste, then belched deeply.

"Oh, there you are, I thought you left!" Monacelli's voice was loud, in every setting. Like he had a microphone inside his chest. Max groaned, his throat bobbing dangerously.

"Gonna hurl."

"Really? Couldn't tell," Vince teased him lightly and Max flinched when he felt the other man's hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades, the pressure causing another belch to come up, this one with a mouthful of stale beer with it, "there you go."

"Uuuurgh-" Max squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fist to his stomach, trying to hurry the process along. Faintly he heard Vince saying in a distant voice "hey, don't do that", but finally his belly threw in the towel and the next wert burp brought up a rush of liquid.

Max curled up, jumping back when the pressure caused the vomit to splatter and he whined as he felt his hair tickling his cheeks, falling from the knot he had loosely made a couple hours prior.

"I got you," Vince planted a hand on his shoulder, then the strands of hair vanished, just as Max coughed up another powerful stream and hiccupped once more.

"Fucking- Embarrassing," Max thumped his chest, until a burp came up and then stumbled back, until he was resting on the opposite wall of the alleyway, "sorry."

"Why are you apologizing, you're the one getting sick in your birthday," Vince frowned, then raised up a bottle of cold water, "got you this."

Max's eyes stung at the gesture and he cleared his throat, snatching the bottle and mumbling a little "thanks," as he started drinking it, "gross."

Monacelli shrugged, "your stomach's better?"

"Eh," Max sighed, wiping at his face and cringing when he felt his beard was humid. He wiped it with the hem of his shirt, "it's gonna be a bitch for the rest of the night, but it's not as bad as before."

"How do you live like this?" Vince wrinkled his nose and Max let out a chuckle, moving so he was standing next to the man and realizing Vin was walking him home.

"Don't ask me," Max huffed, continuing to sip the water, "make it a sport. Last month I only hurled seven times," he grinned as Vince gave him a horrified look.

"You're a champ," the guy said, shoving his hands in his pocket, "I mean, in everything but soccer."

"Oh fuck you," Max cried out, but he was smiling from ear to ear. This was the best birthday he had had probably ever. He was so fucked.

#mywriting #sickfic #overindulging #emeto #emetophilia #max daniels #max starting the Fuck Vince Monacelli club #too much alcohol

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mitchellpete · 1 year ago

Text

Firsts

summary: You’re bad at playing hard to get, and you don’t want to let the opportunity slip. Maverick gives you your first motorcycle ride.

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

tags/warnings: maverick being flirty, shy!reader but also not really?, some drinking mentioned, overall fluff

word count: 1.4k

A/N: i feel terrible that i keep making excuses not to post so i'll let you guys have this one. i don't know who's still on top gun tumblr but i hope you guys are still around. and that you guys like this! it was supposed to be a drabble but..?? ANDDD one more thing: my request page has updated also!

“Wait, you’ve never been on a bike before?”

“I’ve been on a bike. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

Maverick scoffs and then cocks a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips in his frail attempt at reading you, or at least pretending he knew you.

Except he doesn’t, because out of the many outings at the bar, tonight had been the first time he’d spotted you. You were ashamed to admit that it was kind of flattering having him follow you around for a good half an hour, even after you locked eyes with mustache Hawaiian shirt blonde guy across the room. Ah, it was all a game. But God, was Maverick pretty. And charming. You couldn’t decide whether you were bad at playing hard to get or if you simply didn’t mind being the game.

(It was definitely the former.)

Panic filled you later that night when you watched him slip his jacket on on the opposite side of the room. He was still distractedly rambling with his friend, however, and you took the opportunity to push past at least 5 people and make it out of the door before he did.

What to say or do the moment he stepped out? Your head was empty. But hey, he’d see you out there, make another flirtatious comment, make you blush and then it’d go on from there, right? God, please.

This had to have been like the fourth time you’d seen him. He was most certainly the prettiest out of all the aviators that confidently waltzed into the bar every time you and your friend met for drinks.

Miramar. A lovely place, truly.

Beautiful, too. The sunset is beginning to form, and you step towards the wooden fence separating the sand from the small parking lot in front of the building. A packed bar, only a few vehicles. You wonder if any of them belong to Maverick. You pray that he walks this way at all.

The beach in front of you is littered with people, families, couples. There is chatter everywhere, drowning out the sound of the bell on the door behind you, or the sound of his voice if he happens to be walking out, talking to his friend.

That’s why when you eventually zone out maybe a good ten minutes later, you don’t notice that he’s already walked past you, striding towards the vehicle closest to you. The motorcycle. Red, black, adorned with decals that match the patches on his pretty jacket. You wish you’d noticed.

He’d certainly noticed you, watching you avoid his gaze as he swung a leg over and took a seat. “Going for a swim?”

FUCK.

Tongue in your cheek, you meet his eyes. “No. I.. needed some air. Where’s your friend?”

“Where’s yours?” A cheeky smile spread on his face as he reached for the handles.

Oh, he’s sooooooo—

“Inside. I’m uh, actually waiting for another friend right now. She’s picking me up soon, I think.” Lies, lies, lies.

“In a car?”

“On a motorcycle, actually. How fast does yours go?” Jesus Christ. You know nothing about motorcycles, by the way.

He leans slightly forward, intrigued by your response. “Faster.”

“Hm.” You glance out at the shoreline again, at the sun turning bright orange. You feel the warmth on your cheeks. Stupid. You’re playing hard to get again, for fuck’s sake. He’s too pretty, it makes you nervous.

Lucky for you, he breaks the tense feeling in your stomach with a laugh. “Actually?”

He sticks the key into the ignition, filling you with the slight panic from before that he’s slipping away.

You fake a snicker, although it comes out dry and humorless. “I’m kidding. I don’t know a thing about motorcycles.”

The sudden rev of the engine startles you, and he smiles. “Some people are just meant to look pretty on the back of ‘em, I think.”

There was already a warmth to your cheeks, but now it’s heat. “Well.. that sounds like fun.”

Furrowed brows. “Wait, you’ve never been on a bike before?”

You snicker again, this time for real. “I’ve been on a bike. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

Maverick scoffs and then cocks a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips in his frail attempt at reading you, or at least pretending he knew you. Playfully rolling his eyes, he revs the engine again and waves you over with his hand. “Come on.”

Your face falls. A different kind of panic. “Huh?”

“Just a quick ride. Before your friend gets here.”

“A-are you sure?”

“You’re scared?” He grins.

“I—No. I just..” You hesitantly make your way over, your legs suddenly weak. “I drank a little, so I don’t—”

“Can you relax?” He laughs again, his laughter as pretty as he is. “It’s not scary, I promise. Here, step on that part. Just hold onto me and hop on.” He points down below and then sticks his arm out for you to grab.

“I’m not scared,” you mumble as you manage to perch yourself on the space behind him, careful not to grip his arm too tight. “I think you’re a little strange, is all.”

“How so? You gotta hold onto me, sweetheart.” Another engine rev. What is his deal?

You lean forward as much as you can, pressing yourself to him and wrapping your arms around his middle. The seat behind his is slightly raised, and your face absentmindedly presses into the back crook of his neck. It’s too late to pull back when you realize, and the heat in your cheeks starts to burn. Nevertheless, you go through with your accusations.

“Well,” you begin, conscious of your voice as to not be loud in his ear. “You follow me around the bar for some stupid bet, and.. now you’ve forced me onto your bike.”

Ha. As if you hadn’t planned all of this. Sort of.

Another pretty laugh. “It’s a motorcycle,” he mocks you.

That gets a laugh out of you, squeezing your arms around him a bit as he starts to move.

“Although, I do have to say—” He halts, a foot firm on the ground, and turns to look you over his shoulder. “Out of anybody I’ve followed around the bar, you’re the only one I’d give a ride to.”

God. You think you’re already in love with him. “That so?”

He presses his lips together and nods, fake serious.

Pressing your forehead to the back of his jacket, you chuckle. “I guess that means I owe you something.”

“I’ll start driving on one condition,” he offers, his tone playful.

“Hm?”

“Give me a kiss.”

Oh boy. It’s easy by now; you’re already melting into him. Glancing up, your surroundings become a blur and all the outside chatter, the bell on the door and the sound of the other cars go completely silent as you lean your neck to reach. It’s a peck, but it’s complete; all of your lips feel the soft skin of his cheek, plump from a smile under your kiss. And then your chin goes to rest on his shoulder, and next thing you know, you’re off.

There’s suddenly wind; you weren’t prepared for your hair to flow, as he took off from the parking lot and immediately down the road.

You’re clinging onto him with all your might, maybe a little scared for a moment, but then it starts to feel nice. You don’t even recall the moment he’d slipped his aviators on; perhaps the little kiss you gave him left you in awe instead of vice-versa, or maybe it was the drinks you’d had earlier? Maverick says something but you barely hear it, your stomach fluttering in excitement as he swerves between cars to get out of their way, to fly by beyond them on the road and to make the moment about just the two of you. Nobody else on the road.

He turns onto a different road, this one longer and less crowded, and you squeal as he starts going faster. A euphoric feeling overtakes you, and even in the wind, through the sound of the engine and Maverick’s muffled voice, you’re convinced you can’t let him slip away after this one either.

“Maverick!”

Wind, wind, wind. The engine.

Tapping a hand on his side instead, you catch his attention. He slows down just a bit, momentarily glancing over his shoulder again before looking back at the road.

“You wanna stop?” he yells.

“No!” you shout back. “I just wanted you to know something!”

“What is it?!”

You lean closer to his ear, face in the crook of his neck again. “I was lying! There is no friend!”

He grins. “I know!”

#top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fic #maverick x reader #pete mitchell x reader #top gun headcanons #pete maverick mitchell x reader #maverick x you #top gun 1986 #pete mitchell #*#mav

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