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greengoblinswifey · 4 months ago

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Moth to a Flame- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself entangled with your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, despite being in a committed relationship. The chemistry between you ignites on and off set and the lines blur, leading to a heated affair.

warnings— fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, cheating(reader does), praise kink, degrading kink, not proofread i fear.

a/n: this is long asf but you’ll love it, read while listening to Moth to a Flame by The. Weeknd <3

On set, the tension was palpable. The cameras were rolling for season two of the show where Nicholas and you, as the main characters, were set to film an intense love scene. The script called for his character to finally confess his desire for you, despite your on-screen character’s relationship with someone else. Ironically, it wasn’t just the characters who were tangled up in complicated feelings. In real life, you and Nicholas had crossed the same line, and it made filming the scene that much more real.

Your boyfriend, Cody, who had always been a bit uneasy about you acting alongside Nicholas, was on set that day, watching the scene unfold. The moment Nicholas delivered his line with intense conviction- “I want you, fuck your boyfriend,” It was almost like a direct hit to Cody in real life. His fists clenched, and you could feel the heat of his glare even from where you stood.

The scene continued, Nicholas's hands on your waist, pulling you close as you kissed for the first time this season. The chemistry between you both was undeniable on and off and that only seemed to infuriate your boyfriend further. Before the director could call “cut,” Cody stormed forward, clearly upset.

“Cut!” the director yelled, trying to defuse the situation. You hurried over to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

“Listen, babe, take a breather, okay? We have to do this scene. It’s just acting,” you whispered, trying to soothe his frustration. You could feel Nicholas' eyes on you from across the set, jaw clenched in irritation. He hated seeing Cody upset, especially when it came to you which was very common.

“I don’t like it,” Cody muttered, his voice low. “The way he looks at you, the way you two are-”

“Go take a walk through the city, clear your head," you interrupted softly, trying to stay professional even though the tension was real. “It’s part of the job, okay? We’re gonna take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Nicholas. But eventually, after a few tense moments, he gave in and turned to leave, though not without a frustrated huff. The moment he was out of earshot, you sighed, running a hand through your braids.

Nicholas approached you, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and irritation. “You okay?” he asked, though his gaze flickered toward where Cody had disappeared.

You nodded, but inside, the emotions were swirling. You were cheating on your boyfriend in the show, but the real betrayal lingered in the air, just beneath the surface.

In the next scene, the tension was still hanging in the air, and the director decided it was best to take a break. “Alright, we’re gonna pause here,” he announced. “Everyone take ten, grab some snacks, get some air. We’ll continue filming once we’re all settled again.”

You nodded, eager for a moment to escape the tension between your boyfriend and Nicholas on set. Heading back to your trailer, you sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while sipping on coffee. Your mind raced, replaying the scene that had just unfolded. You had been thinking about leaving Cody for a while now, but his overbearing presence made it hard. You feared what he might do if you walked away. And then, of course, there was the media, always watching.

As you lay there, lost in thought, a knock sounded at your door. You assumed it was Cody, needing to cool off after his earlier outburst. Without even looking, you called out, “Cody, just take a walk. You need to cool off.”

The door opened, but instead of Cody’s familiar presence, it was Nicholas who stepped in. You sat up on the bed, surprised. “Oh, Hey,” you muttered, sitting up straighter as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied your face closely, his eyes filled with genuine care. You tried to give a nonchalant smile, nodding.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though it was obvious you weren’t. Nicholas’ gaze flickered from your brown eyes down to your lips, then back up again. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was barely any distance at all.

You both were inching toward each other, your breath mingling as the attraction that had been building between you two, both on and off screen, reached its breaking point for the hundredth time. Before you could think, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but then his hands moved up to cup your breasts, sending sparks through you.

You pulled away, breathless, your heart pounding. “What if Cody comes back? What if he sees us?” you whispered, half in fear, half in excitement.

Nicholas, with a wicked grin, leaned in closer, his voice a deep rasp. “Let him see. Let him see me make you feel good, in a way he never can.”

The room felt hot, the air thick with desire. Nicholas stood up and crossed the room to lock the door. The click of the lock made your pulse race. Then, without hesitation, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs. He looked absolutely irresistible, his body chiseled and perfect.

You couldn’t stop staring, practically drooling at how unbelievably hot he was. And as he stood there, looking down at you with smoldering eyes, you realized just how powerless you were to resist him any longer.

The tension in the trailer was thick, the heat between you and Nicholas undeniable. You wanted more of him, but the looming threat of Cody returning, or the director calling everyone back to set, weighed on your mind. Despite that, your body ached for his touch, and you couldn’t resist as he sat beside you, his lips crashing back onto yours.

The kiss deepened, your moans of his name slipping past your lips as he whispered against your skin, “I love when you moan my name.” His eyes darkened with desire as he added, “I hope that whenever Cody fucks you, you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed lower, his hands already tugging at the low-cut top you wore. His lips found your breasts, his mouth warm as he sucked on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Nicholas,” you moaned, trying to stop him before he left any visible marks. “No hickeys, please-”

But he didn’t listen. He left two dark hickeys on your breasts, smirking as he pulled away to admire his work. “I hope when he takes off your clothes, he sees these,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “He’ll know you belong to someone else. To me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed down to your skirt, slipping underneath to find your lacy panties. His fingers rubbed you through the thin fabric, and you were already soaked. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips lifted into his touch, begging for more.

“Does this turn you on?” Nicholas asked, slipping a finger past your panties and into your heat, teasing you. “Cheating on that little boy?” He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him as he asked again. “Do I turn you on?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip before whispering, “Yes Daddy, you do.”

He grinned, sliding another finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You gasped, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure built inside you. “Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you deeply to muffle your moans. His lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses there as he praised you. “You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so wet, soaking my hand.”

Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a smirk. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He didn’t stop there. His fingers returned to your heat, sliding in and out as his mouth found your breasts again, sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn’t long before your body gave in. You came hard around his fingers, your moans muffled by his lips as he kissed you through it. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “Such a good girl for Daddy, coming on my fingers like that. That’s my girl.”

He kept fingering you gently, easing you down from your high, until you were breathless and shaking beneath him.

Without a word, you slid down the bed, pulling at Nicholas’s pants with urgency. His eyes had been locked on you, heavy with lust, and when you finally freed his hard cock, you were mesmerized by how perfect it looked, thick, long and pretty with a pink tip. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you worked your tongue along his shaft. “You’re such a good girl, feels so good.”

You started teasing him, your mouth moving slowly, hands caressing his balls, but the teasing hadn’t lasted long. Nicholas grabbed your braids, gently tugging your head forward. “Suck my cock,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. “No teasing.”

You obeyed, taking him deeper, your mouth moving faster as you pleased him just the way he liked. His hands guided your movements, and his moans filled the air, telling you how perfect you were, how no one could ever make him feel like this. “You’re too good for him,” he said through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re with.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his length. He gasped, tightening his grip on your hair. “Does he know you call me when he sleeps? Does he know where your heart lies?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth full of him, but the moans you let out told him everything. You took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, and he cursed under his breath, his abs tightening.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace, and your hands massaged his balls as you took him as deep as you could. It only took a few more strokes before his hips jerked, and with a groan, he spilled into your mouth. His head fell back, and he moaned, “Such a good girl, my good girl. You did so good for me. You sucked my cock so well.”

You swallowed everything, licking him clean before pulling away, looking up at him as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Nicholas pulled you up from the bed, guiding you into his arms as your lips met in a soft kiss. His touch was gentle now, and as you nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hand found its way to your hair, stroking it soothingly while you relaxed in his embrace.

“I don’t want to do this forever,” you murmured softly, your voice tinged with the weight of your emotions. The tension of sneaking around and the complications with Cody weighed heavily on your mind.

Nicholas held you tighter, understanding the unspoken struggle. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Before either of you could say more, there was a sharp knock on the trailer door. “Filming’s starting again in five!” the director called from outside.

You sighed, pulling yourself from the warmth of Nicholas’s embrace. “I guess it’s time,” you said with a small, reluctant smile.

You quickly washed your mouth in the small sink, your mind already shifting back to the scene you had to film. Nicholas lingered for a moment, waiting for you to finish before stepping to the side to give you space. He couldn’t come out with you immediately, it would look suspicious, so he stayed behind, allowing you to exit first.

When you stepped back on set, Cody was already there, his eyes burning as he watched you. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the tension radiating from him, as though he suspected something. Nicholas emerged a minute later, casually strolling back to his mark, though you could see the edge in his expression as his gaze briefly flickered over to your boyfriend.

It was time to get back into character, but the lines between fiction and reality were blurring more than ever. Cody’s stare bore into you as if daring you to give something away, while Nicholas stood close, his jaw clenched, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The director called out, “Action!” and the scene picked up exactly where they left off. Nicholas, fully in character, glared at you with fiery intensity as he delivered his line, “I want you. Fuck your boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss that was far more heated than the script required. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and chest, his presence dominating the moment. The kiss deepened, and as he moved you onto the bed, it felt as though the lines between acting and reality blurred. He seemed to glance over toward Cody, who was watching from behind the camera, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional or not.

“Cut!” the director shouted, stepping forward with a smile. “That was flawless, great job you two.”

Nicholas's lips were still hovering over yours, your breaths mingling as you both panted from the intensity of the scene. His hands stayed on your body just a little longer than necessary, and Cody’s eyes burned with suspicion from across the set. It was as though he could feel something was off, but he said nothing.

Later, the day’s filming wrapped, and everyone was heading back to the hotel. You, Nicholas, and Cody were all staying in the same hotel, which only added to the tension. In your shared room with your boyfriend, his agitation was evident. He was pacing, his expression dark and frustrated.

“What was that today?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “The way you two were all over each other. It didn’t look like acting.”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “It was nothing, Cody. We were just doing the scene, it’s literally just acting. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

He wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, scrutinizing every word that left your lips. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Because it didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you stepped away from him, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not about to argue with you over my job. You chose to be there.”

Cody’s face softened as he realized he was pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to approach you again. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make it a thing.”

But you were done with the conversation. “I don’t want to hear it, Cody.” The words were final, your back turned to him as you tried to distance yourself from the situation. Frustrated, his voice snapped at you, but then he stopped himself, muttering another apology. He moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck in a gesture meant to calm the tension. But as his lips touched your skin, you found yourself closing your eyes, not thinking of him, but of Nicholas, the way his hands had held you, the way his lips had lingered on your neck during filming and outside of it.

Cody’s hands slid down, trying to pull at your clothes, his fingers tugging at the hem of your top, but you stopped him before he could pull it off. The memory of the hickeys Nicholas had left on your chest flashed in your mind.

“I- I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.

His frustration was immediate. He huffed and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You could hear the water running. He couldn’t understand why things had suddenly shifted, why the desire had waned on your end. But deep down, you knew.

You knew you’d much rather Nicholas be the one to kiss your neck, pull down your top and take you right then and there. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal. You were determined to get a piece of him later that night when your boyfriend was asleep or hopefully out getting drunk.

As the night wore on, you waited for Cody to finish in the bathroom. You laid in bed, pretending to sleep, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he finally crawled in beside you, exhausted and oblivious. Once you were sure he was deeply asleep, you carefully slid out of bed. To test, you flicked your finger against his forehead, smiling slightly when he didn’t stir.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bathroom and began your nightly routine, washing your face and applying your skincare and makeup. The rush of anticipation built with every step. You picked up the red lingerie, skimpy and barely there, hugging you in all the right places, and slid it on, admiring how it clung to your body in the mirror. Then, you wrapped yourself in a trench coat, keeping the surprise hidden.

With one last glance at your boyfriend, who remained fast asleep, you grabbed your phone and texted Nicholas. “Is your door open?”

His reply came quickly. “It’s open, princess.”

Your heart raced as you made your way down the hall, the soft click of your heels barely audible. Reaching Nicholas’ room, you opened the door slightly, peeking in before stepping inside. Nicholas was standing there, eyes darkening with hunger the moment he saw you in the trench coat. He crossed the room, meeting you at the door, gaze fixed on you.

Without saying a word, you undid the knot of your trench coat and let it fall to the floor. The red lingerie you wore underneath left nothing to the imagination. His breath caught as he took in the sight of you. “You look so sexy for Daddy,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, Nicholas pressed you against the door, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found your breasts. You moaned softly, hands tangling in his hair, feeling the intensity of his need. He squeezed your breasts, murmuring, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy," you breathed, arching into him, “I’m all yours.”

His smirk deepened, his lips claiming yours as he pulled you even closer, his hands exploring every inch of you.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, grinding against the hardness pressing into you. His hands gripped your thighs as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You watched, breathless, as he slid his boxers off, his thick cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum.

Hovering over you, he began rubbing himself along your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging his length up and down your slick folds. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice husky as his eyes took in the sight of you beneath him.

“Just fuck me, Daddy,” you begged, voice desperate and needy.

Nicholas smiled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he reached for the straps of your lingerie and slowly pulled it off, baring your body to him completely. He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake until his mouth found your pussy. His tongue flicked against your clit, and you moaned loudly, gripping the sheets as pleasure rolled through you. He devoured you, lapping at your wetness, the sensations building and building until you were on the edge, so close to coming.

But just as you were about to let go, he pulled away, leaving you panting and needy. “I want you to come around me,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He reached for a condom from the nightstand.

“No condom this time,” you interrupted, breathless but firm. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to cum inside me.”

Nicholas’ eyes flashed with something primal, his lips curling into a smirk. He tossed the condom aside and positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your entrance, teasing you again. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and commanding.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, nodding, “I want it all.”

With a groan of satisfaction, he pressed his thick cock inside you, filling you inch by inch. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling of him raw inside you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. Nicholas began to thrust, slow and deep at first, driving you both wild.

As the heat between you intensified, you felt an electric thrill run through your body, urging you to crave more of him. “Daddy,” you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, “I want more.”

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard creaked under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, pushing back against him as he filled you completely.

“Just like that daddy,” you urged, your voice thick with passion.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. You belong to Daddy now, you always have.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked, his tone commanding, eyes locked onto yours.

“Yours, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you replied, the thrill of submission making your heart race.

“Good girl,” he said, a satisfied smirk across his lips. “That’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he rolled his hips beautifully against yours, the connection between you both electric. “I want you to cum all over my dick, raw, for the first time,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

The feeling of him pushing deeper ignited a fire within you, building to a peak you couldn't hold back. With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely.

Nicholas groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy,” you sobbed and he grinned, his pretty white teeth glistening.

“You soaked me baby, squirting on me like that, being a cheating slut turns you on?” His pace never let up but this time, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit sending a pleasure you almost couldn’t take rushing through your writhing body.

A scream left your lips as you creamed and squirted again all over his cock, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell baby,” he moaned and you felt his hot cum spurt inside of you. He continued thrusting gently, the pace almost loving as he allowed your grip to milk him of every drop.

Now a panting mess, he fell beside you and turned to face you. Your leg was draped across his heaving body and you stared at his beautiful disbelieved figure as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re going to be the death of me baby.”

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finchandthebard · 19 days ago

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The "tiktok ban" should scare you and here's why.

Rant made by an autistic, history-loving, chronically online American tiktok cosplayer. Please let me know if I've gotten anything wrong and I will edit the post.

Reblog to spread awareness!

This is not just about Tiktok, and it's not about national security. The Tiktok ban is wrapped up in the "Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act" which has the ability to ban any foreign website or app that the United States government sees as a threat to their "democracy." Not only that, but if the gov't didn't want China to gather data, then they would ban things like Shein and Temu (the latter which they advertised during the Super Bowl), which collect similar data that Tiktok does. If they wanted to prevent our data being stolen in general, they would ban companies like Meta, which monetarily supports the Tiktok ban and had to change their name because "Facebook" was associated with the largest data leak in history.

The documentations of the Tiktok court interrogations prove how incompetent our government is. Repeatedly asking the TikTok CEO Mr. Chew if he's Chinese while he repeatedly assures them he's Singaporean. The officials being concerned that they can't find Singapore on a map. The officials then being confused why the app would be able to have access to their wifi because it needs wifi to load.

The possibility of the US buying Tiktok exposes a greater issue in America: monopolies. The Sherman Antitrust Act was passed in 1890 that restricted the activities of large companies known as monopolies, which started out as small companies and would either buy other companies or buy the factories which produced all their materials. This eliminated competition in the market and gave the monopolies almost full control of quality and prices of items, and it was considered very anti-American at the time. Since the US already has multiple major social medias, including Facebook (Meta), Instagram (Meta), Threads (Meta), X (formerly Twitter), Snapchat, and Reddit, adding Tiktok would mean that nobody could compete with the US in the social media market. This makes them a monopoly, and it's incredibly dangerous.

Banning Tiktok breaks several American trademarks. A) the Republicans banning Tiktok are very concerned about their second amendment right to own guns, but they seem to not care about the first amendment right to freedom of speech and press, which Tiktok delivers. Of course there are app guidelines, but for the most part you have fairly uncensored political and ethical commentary like no other social media. B) the only other countries that have banned Tiktok are either heavily demonized by America or are direct targets for American propaganda (ex. China), which really doesn't make the ban look good. C) banning a social media for the purpose of censorship is a trademark of communism, which Americans are INCREDIBLY wary of.

Your country may follow in suit. Because of America's influence as a global superpower and an ally to many other major powers, America banning Tiktok would likely lead to a domino effect in other countries.

The rich get richer. There is a concept called social darwinism, in which it is the rich's beliefs that the poor must fend for themselves without the help of the government in order to make a living - "survival of the fittest." Tiktok contributed around $14.7 billion USD in 2023 and $24.2 billion in 2024, and it supports around 224,000 jobs [source]. The actual Tiktok website says in 2023, they contributed $15 billion USD in revenue and supported 7 million US businesses [source]. Without these jobs, there could be in increase in homelessness, debt, and sickness due to withdrawals (if you're incredibly addicted to Tiktok) and lack of quick dopamine hits (due to the rapidfire nature of the algorithm).

Remember that the president is not your friend !! Many of the political figures rallying to support Tiktok right now, such as President Biden, initially voted for the ban. President Biden is likely supporting now so that Trump won't get credit for it, and future President Trump is likely doing it for brownie points among younger generations.

The Xiaohongshu migration exposed the American government and its lies. The stories from American 'Tiktok refugees' about the questions from native Chinese on the Xiaohongshu / Rednote / Redbook app (considered the Chinese mixed of Pinterest, Instagram, and Facebook) posed a lot of conspiracies and realizations about the American government. The Chinese actually own their homes, they have lower food prices than we do, and they have a slim homelessness rate. Whether this is true or not, it has greatly influenced how we see ourselves in the grand scheme of the American oligarchy, and that is not something that can be suppressed with an app being banned.

Tiktok is not totally Chinese! The CEO is Singaporean, as I've already stated, and there are multiple headquarters in the US, with the main one being in Los Angeles.

In conclusion...

Whether Tiktok is banned or not, whether permanently or not, no matter who saves it or rallies against it, remember that it is harder to scare and control someone when they are in a group. And if you think this was interesting, I'd love it if you could reblog to show some support and inform your friends as well. <3

THIS IS NOT RIGHT VS LEFT❗️IT'S UP VS DOWN❗️

#tiktok #tiktok ban #political #finch and the bard analysis #rednote #xiaohongshu #little red book #tiktok refugee #china #america #usa politics

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zepskies · 1 month ago

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Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

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erwinsvow · 11 months ago

Note

Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint

Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.

"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.

you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.

you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.

"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.

"i know, i just-"

"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."

you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.

"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.

"kid, stop-"

"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."

that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.

"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.

"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.

"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.

you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.

"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.

"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.

"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"

"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.

"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.

"alright, we're leavin'."

#thank you so much for requesting!!!!! i really hope you like it??????#thank you thank you thank you #sorry i went a lil off path #📮 asks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron

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slytherinshua · 6 months ago

Text

WITHOUT WORDS

genre. fluff. maybe a bit suggestive?? warnings. making out. they're so in love it's disgusting(ly cute). half proofread. pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. no. a/n. i don't think i've watched any enhypen content since like spring 2022... but i still wrote this just to feed @hursheys brainrot so she better thank me smh.

Perhaps the only time where you could admire your boyfriend without getting embarrassingly hot in the face was when he was asleep. You weren’t sure how it was possible for someone to be so handsome, but Sunghoon surpassed perfection in many areas, so you had grown to accept it. The first morning light had just started to seep through the window, shining softly over Sunghoon’s face.

And, god, he just looked so pretty. His hair fell over his forehead, eyelids closed, lips slightly parted letting soft breaths out. You were practically hypnotised by him. Usually you weren’t so utterly down bad for him (well, no, you were), but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off of him this morning.

You silently brushed his hair away from his face, your touch light and gentle so as to not disturb him. The light from the window hit his now exposed forehead and eyebrows, warming up his cool toned skin and taking your breath away. You would never not be in love with him.

Your eyes shifted to his perfect nose, and the little brown mole that dotted the side of his nose bridge. You gave in to the immediate urge to press a gentle kiss to it, despite knowing that the action would probably wake him up. He was bound to wake up sooner or later from the light anyway, and you knew he always liked waking up to your kisses.

Your hand cupped his cheek, a finger softly tracing his jawline and then eyebrow, as if you were memorising his every feature. When you lifted your hand, intent on bringing it back to rest by your side, your wrist was caught midway by Sunghoon’s fingers. Although his eyes were still closed, he guided your hand back to the side of his face, a silent plea for you to continue your gentle touch.

Instead of opening his eyes, his lip twitched, threatening to lift up into a smile. He tried to suppress it, but he too was struggling with the butterflies that your touch gave him. When it was just you two, he felt like he was floating, heart completely caught in your hold. Just when he thought he was the happiest he ever could be, you proved him wrong.

He gave in, letting the breathless laugh that was fighting to emerge, out, gracing your ears with the sound. When he opened his eyes, he was met with his favourite sight, one that he was sure he would never get tired of. Sunghoon was well aware that he was debilitatingly in love with you, but he faced the feeling with pride. He allowed you to invade his every thought, direct his every decision, and dwell at the very centre of his universe. It was where you belonged.

There were no words needed between you two. All sentiments were delivered through your eyes, as you both could read each other like it was second nature.

Sunghoon’s ebony eyes sparkled with many messages, the most obvious of which was I love you. After years of dating him, that was one you could never miss. There was rarely a time where you didn’t see it reflected in his irises. It had become a constant for Sunghoon. Loving you was simply a part of his identity. He wasn’t himself without the love that you brought out of him.

Your fingers danced on his cheek again, committing the feeling of his smooth skin to memory. He had a busy day ahead of him, and you knew you wouldn’t be seeing his face again until the middle of the night, so you took your time, soaking him in for as long as you could. Sunghoon was attentive to this as well, but had something else on his mind regarding how to spend the time he had left with you. He caught your wrist, this time using it to bring you closer to him, your nose almost brushing against his.

“Let me kiss you.” Came his soft request, his voice deep and slightly raspy from sleep. You smiled, meeting his lips immediately. There would never be a time when you would refuse his wish to kiss you. You sighed when he kissed you back, the warmth of his love reaching you from his lips.

You bit his bottom lip gently, making him gasp. His lips parted just enough to allow your tongue past them, the movement causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. His hands slipped to your waist under the covers, circling his thumb over your skin under your pyjama shirt (which just so happened to be one of his old t-shirts).

Sunghoon knew he would have to break away from you sooner than he wished in order to allow time to get ready for the day. This only urged him to kiss you deeper, drowning in the feeling of you. His tongue circled yours, the dance of lip and tongue feeling as natural as breathing. He knew exactly how you liked to be kissed, years of perfecting his skills ever clearer to you as he pulled you closer.

He wished he could kiss you for eternity. He wished he didn’t have to leave you or the bed. He wished he could call the day off and stay— stay with you for the rest of his life. He was sure he would do that, but not in the way he currently wanted to right now. His work was far too important to miss, as he had several important shoots to attend. He had to cut his losses, no matter how hard it was to leave you for the entire day.

So, he pulled away, although it broke his heart to do it. You let out a quiet whine, knowing that he had to leave soon and dreading it as much as he did. He soothed you with a few quick kisses to your cheek and nose, hand squeezing your hip before he sat up, eyes lingering on your figure under the covers.

He checked the time, panicking slightly when he realized that he may have kissed you for a minute or two longer than he should have. He’d have to cut his shower short. He grabbed the clothes he had picked out the night before and rushed to the bathroom, giving you a quick smile as he closed the door. You heard the shower run for no longer than 3 minutes, and the hurried movements of him brushing his teeth and changing.

He emerged exactly 6 minutes later, grabbing his bag and blowing you a kiss before he left. You sighed, eyes focused on a random spot on the ceiling. The taste of Sunghoon’s lips lingered on yours, making you smile slightly. You already missed him, and it hadn’t been a minute since he left. You were so down bad for him.

You rolled over to his side of the bed, squishing your face into his pillow (which smelled just like him) and falling back asleep.

↳ enhypen taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,, @delcakoo,,

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@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,,

@dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz

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niccolites · 2 months ago

Text

i don't wanna break the heart of any other man (but you)

johnny (soap) mactavish x fem!reader, brother's best friend au. cw dub-con

read on ao3 here, originally based off of the very talented @ceilidho 's ask here

It starts with a ribbon in your hair, neat and pink, ripped out by Johnny’s hand. He laughs in your face, all gummy smile at the age of eight, grinning as you cry and try to get it back.

You are seven-years-old, and you don’t know why your brother hangs out with this bully. Even worse, the inaction. Your perfect big brother, reduced to a faceless bystander.

Lungs catch and then stutter, devastation as you learn and relearn the same lesson until it sticks. A boy can treat you how he wants, as long as he minds his ps and qs about it.

The world around you is defined in the short-term - the sky is blue, your mary-janes have a scuff on them that your mother is worried people are going to notice, and you hate Johnny Mactavish.

He becomes friends with your brother and steals him away from you. Best friends once, you and your brother. Now you've been replaced by some snotty little boy who is constantly yanking on your pigtails. In your own living room, your brother is silent when you run from the room crying.

He's your bully, a twist in your stomach when no one seems to understand this. You sit on the back step, hiccuping tears as you listen to Johnny and your brother have fun in the living room. Only Johnny seems to notice your tears when you come back in and sit, sullen, in the corner. His gaze is a living thing that crawls over you, something alive that shudders like a second skin over yours.

The defining story of your childhood is told like this, after the fact: Johnny keeps picking on you, one day he steals your ribbon and you cry. He keeps the ribbon to this day. Cue the hand on the heart and the coos from the audience. A hit every time, an instant classic.

(One part of the story that is always missed out when this is told and retold again and again is how you actually swing at him. The last time you’re on an even playing field because he unwillingly takes it on the chin.)

Respective parents swoop in, fussing and pulling the two of you apart. Injustice doled out swiftly as Johnny clings to that ribbon, as no one takes it off of him.

“Oh, honey, boys do that when they like you,” your mum coos at you. It's a pathetic attempt to comfort you, leaving you confused more than anything. Here is the sharp reality, your perfect hair undone and mussed. Here is the crack that distorts the image, smoothing over the edges and makes it more palatable.

Johnny catches this, mouth agape as he takes it in. There’s a red mark on his chin from your hand, blue eyes wide and watery.

You wonder if Johnny remembers this. You can see the exact moment that this registers with him, as if he had never considered the ‘why’ of what he was doing to you. And here was the reason, delivered to him from the woman who always gives him an extra cookie when he comes over to play. A click, the universe has righted itself. Something slotting into place according to some higher power. Path set, direction coordinated. Your ribbon clenched in his fist. Meaning applied, after the fact.

It matters to you, you suppose. A politically incorrect statement that alters the start of your life, for all intents and purposes. Here is the centre of it, tattered ribbon and throbbing knuckles, and a lie that is swallowed and turned into truth. Johnny probably doesn’t care. The centre of his entire infatuation does not matter as much as the gulf of the rest of it. Who cares about him snapping your training bra, what matters is the image of his fingers as they wriggle under the strap, the warmth of skin before the snap of plastic. Johnny’s vision of you seems to be half-eclipsed by what he does to you.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but Johnny is a lesson that the bitterness is quickly forgotten once the pill hits the bottom of your stomach. Well, then there’s just the acceptance of how things are meant to be, right?

What starts off as the play fighting of a rough child in puppy love becomes the earnest approaches of a lovesick teenager. Supposedly.

Before, maybe someone would have eventually stepped in. Maybe there is a finite number of times that a girl can come home crying after having her hair pulled before someone does start to get concerned. Maybe you were a few hundred short when puberty hits and Johnny makes a sharp pivot.

Gone are the shoves, Johnny sticking his foot out to trip you up. Pulling your hair and dashing away, as if unable to stand being near you. His attention is an ugly thing that sits between you. Even he doesn't seem equipped to handle it, breath always coming a little bit too sharp when he steals your teddy, eyes on your reaction even as he tries to dart away.

Now, Johnny is always near. He doesn’t shove anymore, just stands, always too close. You start wearing a training bra and he is a bit too focused about it. Asks you how it feels, gaze hot on your face, like he wants you to say something hot. (You know it doesn’t matter what you say, he’ll likely think that anyway). Petty at the age of 13, you spit into his drink to try and gross him out and he downs it like he had been waiting for it.

Years are not defined by time passing, but rather Johnny and his relationship to you. Years pass with the deterioration of the two of you, scratches in the wall to track the history of how bad everything spirals out of control.

You’re thirteen, and Johnny is pinging your bra strap. He's fourteen, and now he's a few inches taller which he starts using to his advantage, leaning over you when you try to get by him.

You're fourteen, and Johnny is telling you that he jerked off to the thought of you last night before smiling at your mother while you scoff in disgust. He's fifteen, and deciding he wants to start heavy-lifting, wanting to get in shape for you.

You're fifteen, and Johnny is begging you to come swimming with them, hands smoothing over your hips while you try to shove him off. He's sixteen, and he’s holding an enlistment pamphlet and asking how much you would miss him if he went.

You’re sixteen, and Johnny is yanking up your jumper and his breath comes out as a wheeze when he sees the light blue cups that he is convinced match his eyes. He’s seventeen, and trying to get you to drink with him, pupils blown as he tilts the bottle to your mouth and some of it spills over your bottom lip.

You’re seventeen, and Johnny is shoving his hand down the front of your panties, won’t you let him see his favourite girl before he leaves? You don’t know if he’s even really referring to you anymore. He’s eighteen, and he’s almost gone. The weight on your shoulders is heavier, the way it must be before it’s lifted. Almost out, the crack of light in a tomb, mouth watering for it.

He’s trying to be gentle with you, he explains, nights before he leaves. Your nipples are raw under your shirt from where he had yanked your shirt up and ducked down to bite them with a groan. You scowl.

Sitting in your room, your family downstairs. He had asked for a moment with you, for the third time that day and your mother had been charmed. She had been blubbering since she found out that he enlisted, back bowing as you seem to lift higher with each hour that passes.

He needs to make you understand what is going on between the two of you. Needs to make it clear to you before he goes. “We’re meant to be,” he says, patient, even as his hands flex, smoothing over your knees. A creak of bone against muscle, seconds away from wrenching your thighs open and taking what he believes he is owed.

It seems like some kind of stupid honour code. You’re too wriggly. He can have his pound of flesh but he wants the full slab. Maybe he thinks he has to earn it, wants you to spread your legs and let him in.

Fat chance. You tell him as much, delighting for a moment at the way that dopey smile drops off his face. You imagine punching him now, wonder if you could break his nose this time, you think you have enough anger built up to really manage it.

Before you get a chance to really think it over, he grabs you, hands hard on your hips. Yanking your leggings down, and you think that you were wrong, if you didn’t bring over the full cow he was just going to and wrangle that fucker himself.

Minutes later and he’s puffing hot breath into the crook of your neck, the head of his cock between the gusset of your underwear and your pussy. He had gripped your hand and guided it around his dick, up and down. You would stop, but his hand is manacled around your wrist, palm hot against the pulse of your veins. Two layers of skin between your respective flesh, nothing really.

He whines when pre-cum aids the way, huffs a laugh when he nudges against your clit and you tremble. Barely any slick between your folds but he hones in on it like he does with everything to do with you. Dips the head of his cock further down to catch it, forehead thumping against your shoulder to watch as his cock shines with the slightest bit of your juices.

Here is the body’s natural reaction to stimulation. And here is Johnny taking the explanation that he has been waiting for.

“A knew it,” he mutters, feverish as his hips stutter, your hand tightening for a second as he nudges against your clit again. “Knew you were wantin’ it, lovey. But you had tae act like a right cow, eh?” He chuckles, dark before he yanks your chin up (you had been staring as well, you realise with a flush of shame), slants his mouth over yours.

He’s still angry, thumb digging into the soft flesh beneath your skin as he drags his tongue over yours, sucking it into his mouth until you hiccup.

He’s big like this, eighteen, and the puppy fat had shrank off years ago. Shoulders hunches to reach you, hand cradling your jaw in place, almost ear to ear.

He pulls back and you loll forward, pressure that had been holding you in place suddenly gone. You reel with it, almost falling forward before he nudges you back again. He huffs, a mean thing into your temple, hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Ye wantin’ it?” he asks. You wonder if he actually wants an answer, know that he already has his confirmation between your thighs.

His hand squeezes your wrist, and you clumsily twist your palm when you reach the top of his shaft, morbidly curious. He told you how he liked to jerk off two New Years ago, did it how he thought you would do it for him. Prophesied.

His shoulders shake, moaning wantonly as if you aren’t in your bedroom with your parents watching TV just downstairs. “Fuck,” he hisses, eyes on how your hand barely covers half of his cock as you stroke him. His hand thumps into the wall beside your shoulder, other hand flexing with his thumb on your wrist bone.

“Ah, fuck, dae that again,” he huffs until you do, again and again until he whines, head back into the crook of your neck as he drools into the collar of your shirt.

Both his hands are on your arse now, squeezing and kneading as he humps like a misbehaved dog into your hand. “I know you didnae mean it,” he mutters, pulling the spit soaked collar of your shirt down to kiss and lick and bite your collarbone. “You were jus’ missin’ me already, eh? A know, lovey, a know, there we are, just havtae show you the way sometimes, my poor wee angel, a forgive ye, a dae, a swear.”

He grips the backs of your thighs and squeezes when he comes, pushing until the head of his cocks kicks up near the entrance of your cunt, whining and shuddering through it. He pants as he comes back down, cock jerking idly in your now loose grasp, red hot against where you are now wet. Probably, mostly with Johnny’s cum.

He gives a heaving sigh, pushes his palms against the wall to look down at you. He likes what he sees - spit slick mouth, red neck, bare pussy with his cum staining you and your underwear.

“A willnae be gone long,” he says, as if you had been mid conversation. “A will come back f’ you, angel,” he promises, gaze hot on the crux of your legs.

You stare up at him, hand still loose around his shaft before you let go. A curdled desire settles in your stomach. Always for Johnny, and always half ruined at inception because it’s for Johnny.

Hours later and he’s gone. You sit at the breakfast table, your mother fussing in her upset about him being gone. Your brother is quiet as always, gives you a strange look. Johnny’s cum is dried out in your favourite pair of panties upstairs. You bite into a piece of toast, feel each crumb as it digs into your gums and dirties you.

It gets worse again after he officially enlists in the army. Before Johnny is the cute teenager that trails after your every move, intent and so so sweet.

Now he is Johnny, the childhood sweetheart. Before both of your parents had viewed you as scorning a poor lovesick puppy. Now you are a couple, constantly bickering about something or other. You insist that he is not your boyfriend, and are met with rolled eyes and knowing looks.

Johnny’s mother confesses that half of his calls to her are asking for you. You briefly consider moving to another country.

He sends pictures of his cock while he is away, the head red and you hate that you know how hot it would be to the touch. You reply and tell him to cut it off and he tells you that you’re the one.

Your mum doesn’t understand when you complain so heavily about him. Every complaint is met with a rebuttal, as if Johnny’s hand is at the back of everyone’s throat, puppeting everything that they say.

He’s too touchy. Because he loves you sweetheart, my god, I wish someone would want me that much.

He’s too close. God forbid someone enjoy your company.

Don’t you think he’s a little bit strange? He’s in the army, you dick, don’t you think you could be just a little bit nicer about it?

You feel half insane, the only one protesting the way that he treats you, the way he has always treated you. The capacity for cruelty has just shifted. Johnny has always worked within the parameters that were available to him. Sure, he can’t get away with yanking on your pigtails anymore, but biting a bit too hard at your neck has the same result. Tears in your eyes, and everyone tells you that this is how Johnny shows you he likes you.

After his first deployment, he gets so close to fucking you that you get spooked. Eighteen now, and suddenly ten years younger, Johnny taking something that doesn’t belong to him. You let him fuck up the length of your cunt, let him lick his cum off of you. He keeps his head between your thighs, eats you out like a man starved until you shake, tears in the corners of your eyes. Shame again, at how sloppy he is, spit and slick and cum everywhere. He likes it, likes how shameful you get about it. Laps that up too, tongue buried in you like he wants to get to the back of your throat. He always wants more of you than you think you have to begin with.

He lies back, barely sated but will at least lie still now and pulls you over to drape over his chest. He’s getting bigger, you think. Maybe he’s taking parts of you, squirreling them away in himself, until you don’t know you unless you find it in him.

You curve one hand over his barrel chest, barely any give in the muscle. He hums, a booming noise beneath your ear. “Tha’s all it took,” he murmurs, hand smoothing over your head like you’re a cat. “A bit ae missin’ me and yer as sweet as a kitten.”

You’re too tired to give a snarky response, though you briefly wonder if you can get away with pinching his side a bit too hard in retribution.

You know he’s going to be even more pent up the next time he gets back, that he’s going to think he’s owed your virginity. You refuse to give him another reason to tie the two of you together indefinitely. You think he’ll propose if he does, he has already been messaging you about it, asking when the two of you were finally going to walk down that aisle that he’s been building around you for years.

You go to a pub the next time he leaves, ignore his messages to call because he misses you so much. Sit at the counter until some sleazy guy who looks double your age saunters up and offers to buy you a drink. You shouldn’t, it is so dangerous. You barely have to cut your eyes towards him before he’s taking this as forwardness. Offers to take you home and immediately starts pawing at you in his truck.

You let him bend you over, the clink of a belt and its all over. You rock with each thrust, hating yourself for catching sight of the man’s hand on yours and knowing that Johnny’s is bigger.

You bring a hand down to rub along your clit, but the first whine that leaves your mouth brings the entire show to a close and you stand up, furious. The man wheezes in the seat as you barely say goodbye, wrenching your panties up and storming home.

Johnny’s been calling you, must be on whatever type of break he gets wherever he is, and you answer after the third missed call. Low timber floods your ear and warms your bones.

He’s so excited he caught you, been missing you so much, baby. Thinking about you all the time, he got in trouble for not being able to focus. Asks if you’ve been taking care of his pretty girl for him?

You let him yap in your ear the whole way home, wanting desperately for your vibrator. “You missin’ me too, baby?” Johnny huffs in your ear. You hum, absentmindedly in response. He’s on it, scenting blood.”Aye? Tell me, how much, eh? You been petting yourself thinking of me?”

You’re home, Johnny still trying to goad you on over the phone, the connection is bad but he seems to overcome it. Hulking, even over a wire to get to you. Maybe you could get him to talk through getting yourself off. It’s disgusting, but maybe you could give yourself a pass this one time. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants, where are your allowances? Johnny gets to hop back and forth over the line of propriety, you’re allowed one slip up before you return to your factory settings.

Your vibrator, hidden in the back of your bedside table, gone. You know it was him, know he binned it. Know he probably didn’t want anything getting you off except him.

You stare at the empty space in the back of your drawer, cold water down your spine that douses any flames of arousal you think you have ever felt and maybe will ever feel again. Anger is back, and so beautifully familiar. Johnny is still droning on, something about letting him see a picture of how much you’re missing him.

“I fucked someone else,” you say, voice gritty.

The line goes quiet. Small buzzes that make up the distance between the two of you, the call dropping and reconnecting. Universe bringing you back together again.

“That’s not fucking funny,” Johnny says, voice low in a way that you don’t think that you’ve heard before.

“Good thing I’m not joking,” you snap back. You feel frightened, eyes darting to the window as if he is about to start running in your direction, all the way across the globe. You wouldn’t put it past him. But never let it be said that you wouldn’t put your hand to the snapping teeth of a rabid dog.

He’s silent, breath heaving before the line goes dead.

You drop your phone to the floor and stand in the quiet of your room. A bird chirps in the distance, life reinstating itself even in the absence of Johnny. You crawl into bed and refuse to get off tonight. A competition where you are the only participant and the only loser too. Fitting.

You don’t see Johnny for months after that. Which makes sense, because he is across the globe. But the silence feels eerie, the way you imagine it might be for him. The thunder of a gun and the shutter after. Silence ringing, not due to quiet but because of the absence of sound.

He doesn’t message you at all during this period. Clearly he says something to his mother, because she gives you a frown at church that Sunday. “You must’ve done something,” your mum hisses at you, embarrassed that the story of childhood sweethearts that she gave birth to has become a story of a surly woman who cannot appreciate the man who loves her as he risks his life for his country.

You don’t bother replying. There’s no point, really. Everything has been set in motion and everyone had climbed on board. You were the one that derailed the track and upset everything.

You refuse to admit that you miss Johnny. That your phone buzzes and there is a moment where you think it could be him. For months, it isn’t. You feel like you’re floating out in orbit and your lifeline has gone silent on you. Drifting, the cold slowly creeping in, nothing around to propel yourself off of. Gain some momentum, do something.

You sit and wait for Johnny’s judgement day.

He gets back on a Friday, and he doesn’t come to see you. You know he’s back, because you can hear your brother on the phone to him, asking if he got back alright. You skulk around the corner, waiting for any mention of your name. If there is any, you don’t hear it.

You sit in your room, uncertain. The thing that you hadn’t considered is that while you had been complaining about how you and Johnny had been set up in the direction that you were going in, you hadn’t thought about what you would do if you weren’t doing this. You have derailed the train now, but you don’t remember when you got on, or how to get back there.

You mull this over, legs tucked to the side as you lean into the large bear on your bed. Won for you, by Johnny of course, at some fair when you were kids. Maybe you could leave. Nothing as drastic as another country, but another town maybe, escape the suffocation that comes with being here and everyone knowing you as Johnny’s girl.

Daydreaming, imagining yourself in a place where no one knows who you are, you are startled out of your thoughts when your window slams open. Soap hoists himself up and into your room, with an ease you imagine he must not have had before.

You blink at him as he stands next to your open window, gaze hot on you without saying a word. You shuffle a little, uncertain, refusing to speak first. You feel bizarrely guilty, as if you have done something wrong. Even though you know you haven’t. Just because a man decides he is owed your virginity, doesn’t mean you’re in the wrong for not giving it to him.

Still, you swallow an apology on the back of your tongue and it tastes like ash.

Johnny quietly reaches over and slams your window shut, making you jump.

“Y’know, a went around town and tried to figure out who ye cheated on me wae,” he says, at last, face darker than you have ever seen it. His hair is slightly grown out along the sides, mohawk less stark like this. Hair like he had when he was ten, almost.

“I didn’t cheat on you -” You try to interject, remembering your indignation more than anything.

Johnny lunges for you, hand hot around your ankle as he yanks you down the bed. “Who fuckin’ was it, huh? Y’ know, ave been tryin’ so hard wae you, thinkin’ that you’ve been missin’ me just as much as a have you, but instead you’ve been tryin’ tae hurt me, whorin yourself fae anyone -”

You reel your arm back to punch him in the face, and he catches your wrist just before you can make contact with his jaw. “I didn’t fucking whore myself out, I’m sorry that you’re fucking delusional -”

A hand in the length of your hair and he wrenches your head back, slamming his mouth against yours. It’s sore, all teeth as you both hiss and spit at each other. It feels like an even playing field again, even though you feel swallowed up in his bulk. His hand leaves your hair and grips you everywhere he can, like everything belongs to him already.

You feel white hot, letting him lick across the back of your teeth like he doesn’t want any part of you untouched by him. You hold onto his shoulders, letting him pull you all over, leans back and hooks a finger over your jaw. Pulls your mouth open. You realise what he’s going to do a moment before he does it, spit landing on your tongue. Instinctive to swallow it.

He moans wantonly at the sight, a sound that flushes you in embarrassment. For god’s sake, you’re in your mother’s house. He’s licking into your mouth, spit everywhere and making you feel sticky.

His hand slides between your thighs and you feel the moment that he finds out how wet you are, his hips stuttering a quick grind against your hip. “Jus’ for me, huh?” he asks, feverishly hot. He pulls back as he yanks your shorts off, panties dragged along with. Groans at the sight of you, wet and swollen between your legs. “Eh? Is this what ye did wae that fuckin’ boy?”

Your thighs shake, hands trying to catch his wrist as he slides two fingers into you, thumb mean against your clit. “What?” you croak, blinking up at him.

“Whatever loser you took home with you,” Johnny asks, hawk-like focus on your face. Strange for him, when your pussy is on show. “You take him back here and did ye let him dae this tae y’? Ye think aboot me when he brought his small dick oot?”

You don’t respond and he pinches your clit until you squeak, trying to buck away from him.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he coos suddenly, eyes no longer on your face but between your legs. “My pretty girl, you just need someone to show you, right?”

He fingers you, thumb intent on your clit until you start to shake, voice getting higher, Then he stops, fingers slipping out of you (when did it become three?), with a wet noise that if you were more in your mind, you would flush about.

You start to whine, and he flips you over onto your front, hikes your ass in the air and coos of the sight of your cunt throbbing at the injustice of it all. “A know, angel, A know. A want to give ye what yer wantin, but a don’t know if you deserve it,” he hums. Fucking liar, if the clink of his belt is anything to go by, then the hot stroke of his cock between your sticky folds that has you arching your back like a cat in heat. He’s trying to be teasing, but his voice shakes, restraint held together by a thin chain and he is a big man.

He holds you still with a hand on your hip, the heat of it sinking into your skin. You can hear him beating off, using your slick to aide the way as he stares at your holes. You feel like you want to cry, sitting on display for him to get off on. You do, but it also makes you feel piping hot all over. There’s a sickness in him and he’s been dosing you up on it for years. Viral disease, his spit in your mouth until it clogs the back of your throat and finally takes root in your bloodstream.

“Was thinking about this so much,” he murmurs, as if caught up in a dream. “Wanted tae be the one to make y’ a woman - “

“It was bad,” you manage, throat dry, gaze on the opposite wall. The slick noise behind you stops and you can only hear the sound of his breathing. His scrutiny of you on the back of your skull pulling you down. You don’t know why you’re saying this. There is a cliff edge and you want to say you stepped off of it with your next words, but you’re already freefalling, and you’re hoping for the crash into him rather than the cold dirt. “I didn’t know him, I didn’t get off, and I thought about you and how good that you would have made me - “

Half a sentence in and he sinks in, cock splitting you open. He groans, loud and shameful as you whine, thigh kicking until he stills it, pushing down to get further into you, It may as well have been your first time, it takes a few shallow thrusts and Johnny reaching down to rub at your clit to ease the way before he manages to get balls deep into you.

“Oh fuck,” you wheeze, full. At capacity. You can’t think beyond the stretch of yourself around Johnny, air knocked out as he pushes more weight onto you.

“Fuck, this fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. Hands smooth over your arse, spreading your cheeks to better view what he’s doing to you. “Knew ye would be so good, dreamed ae this - ah - you just wanted tae deny yerself. Don’t worry, angel, I’ll give ye what ye need.”

Then it starts, the pulling out just bottom out again, fast and hard and any air you manage to suck in is immediately shot out.

Your head lolls to the side, you think you might be drooling onto your sheets, but can barely find it in you to care. His balls slap against your swollen clit, so loud and yet you cannot remember why you should care about that beyond getting him to keep doing that. You realise that your muttering please, over and over again, not even aware of it.

He shifts to the side, and suddenly his thrusts are deliberate, and you tense up even more. No pause, no grinding out, you come and he keeps going, grunts as you tighten up and spasm, sobbing into your sheets.

It’s like a point is being hammered into you. You suspect if you hadn’t admitted that you didn’t come with the other guy, then Johnny wouldn’t have given a shit. But this is purposeful, a lesson being taught until only the whites of your eyes are showing. It always did so many times for you to take a telling, Johnny coos in your ear. Thank god he’s here, he’s got you.

He comes with a groan, mouth hot against the back of your neck as he mouths at your nape, teeth a little bit too sharp for your liking. Damning, feeling his cum in you. No part of you, untouched.

You want to say it gets worse from this point again. You think that it has actually just always been the same level of awful, the scale has just broadened.

Johnny tells everyone that you’re engaged after you let him cum in you again. There’s not even an engagement ring. Spitting in anger at your future being decided for you again, Johnny interprets this as you being upset he didn’t take you ring shopping. Drags you to the bathroom and fucks you on the sink with your ankles over his shoulders.

It’s relentless. There is a hairline fracture along the tender tissue of your brain and Johnny has pried it open to fit himself, crawled in and made himself at home.

He tells you that you were made for him. That he had came first, that he had wished for you and you were delivered to him. Guides your hand to his ribcage, tells you there is one missing. “Would give that an’ mare,” he vows, hands swallowing up the arch of your torso, a perfect ring made with the circle of his hands.

He’ll probably marry you the next time he’s back. He can barely be held back from it just now, that leash he places in your hand even if he yanks so hard that the control is all just for show. Just another link between the two of you, his neck yanked back to you up at you.

He sleeps in your childhood bed, muscular arm a band around your waist. There’s a version of you in the corner. She’s still weeping and now only you know. A tear against Johnny’s shoulder and he shuffles closer, tucking you under his chin. “Ave got ye, angel,” he slurs, half-asleep.

You feel restricted, unable to move. And it soothes you to sleep.

(Johnny begs you to suck him off just before he leaves for his next deployment. His come tastes bitter as you swallow. Go figure.)

#johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod x reader #nic writes #johnny mactavish #cw dub con #definitely could have been more catholic. an improvement for next time haah #let me know ur thoughts !

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hees-mine · 2 months ago

Text

Camboy - L. Heeseung pt.2

Pairing: heeseung X reader!

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing, sex toys, lube.

Genre: 18+, camboy.

WC: 2k+ read full story below⬇️ yall asked and I delivered part two of “camboy” after a year 💀

You are bored scrolling on your phone when a notification drops down on your screen from your favorite streamer, and you tap it immediately.

It felt like Deja vu. He was literally live yesterday, but you weren’t complaining. You could watch him every day, every waking moment of your life, and never get tired.

The app opens, but instead of a live video being displayed like you anticipated, it directs you to private messages, and your face morphs into one of confusion.

Evan Lee: Couldn’t help myself ;)

The text has you re-reading it over and over again. Could it really be that Evan, your favorite streaming/camboy, was messaging you?

You must be dreaming. While your hands shake and your heart pounds, a little text bubble appears on the bottom left of your screen, making your heart beat even faster, if that’s possible.

A video then suddenly appears, with the little play button showing up as the white circle around it loads. Once it's finished, you immediately tap the video, and the sight shocks you, to say the least. You gasp, covering your mouth with your free hand, as quiet moans flow through your phone's speakers.

“Fuck” you hear Evan’s groans while he pumps his cock with the fleshlight you had bought him. He speeds up his pace grunting softly before pulling out of the toy just in time to catch his cum shot. “Shit, fuck yeah” his dick twitches on his stomach, his cum spurting onto his abdomen. “Mmm,” breathing heavily, he swallows till the last of his cum drops from his tip and pools on his tan skin. “Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he laughs breathlessly, dipping his index finger in his cum and then gripping his length and stroking it a few times, spreading it around and coating his dick in the aftermath of his orgasm. Once his dick softens fully, he ends the video.

Blinking blankly at the screen, you finally uncover your mouth, the realization of what just happened hitting you like a truck.

Did he really just send that to you? Before you could even get your hopes up or feel special about receiving a video from him, you assumed he just sent that to all his paid subscribers.

But at least he used the gift you gave him, and you definitely enjoyed it as much as he did.

After pressing send on the video, he cleaned himself up a bit, leaving his phone open in case you replied.

He wore his bottoms, discarding the dirty wipes into his trash bin. “Hmm,” chewing on his lip, he stared at the screen, and there was still no reply. Maybe you were just busy and didn’t see it yet. He turned off his phone, tossing it to the side so he could go shower.

After his shower, he recorded some paid snippets and updated his followers on when his next live will be and what they can look forward to. He checked his phone after about three hours, scrolling through a few notifications. None of them were important, just a few app notifications. He opened the app, streamed, and checked his notifications out of hundreds. None of them were you.

Had you even seen it yet were you at work did you see it and not think anything of it? But you joined his lives and bought him what he assumed was a pretty expensive gift so you must have liked him enough to have your notifications turned on right?

Turning off his phone, he sets it down on his desk. He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous. He literally streamed himself jerking off to hundreds of people, so why was he so anxious about sending a personalized video to you?

After the fourth hour passed, his nerves started to get the best of him, and he messages you again.

Evan Lee: Did you enjoy it, baby?

He sends it before he can overthink that, too.

A reply comes from you quickly this time, which he’s so thankful for.

You: Very much, Evan. I’m sure everyone else did, too ;)

Everyone else? What did you mean by that? Did you show that video to someone else? What?

Evan Lee: What do you mean by everyone?

He decides to ask to clear up the confusion, hoping you didn’t send that video that was meant for you and only for you to someone else.

You: Your subscribers

You responded confused now as well.

Evan Lee: What do you mean? I didn’t send that to everyone, just you as a thank you for, you know, the gift since I liked it so much

His face heats up. He can’t believe he’s actually texting you like this right now. He never thought he’d be interested in one of his followers, but you just seemed to capture his attention even if he was just going by text only.

Yeah, you must be dreaming. Well, at least it was a good dream.

You: “I’m flattered.”

He shifts his attention from his computer now that he’s got you online.

Evan Lee: Good baby, so did you do anything to that video?”

You blushed reading his text.

You: I haven’t 🤭

Evan Lee: Aww baby, you’re making me sad :(

You: Sorry

You reply, not sure what to say.

Evan Lee: I didn’t know you could resist my charm 😏

Truthfully speaking, you couldn’t.

Evan Lee: Since I made myself feel good, why don’t you do the same? After all, I made that video just for you.

Biting on his bottom lip, he sends a risky texts, awaiting your answer.

You: Are you sure?

Evan Lee: Positive baby, go ahead and touch yourself to my video

You: Now?😳

Evan Lee: Of course, sweetheart, why wait?

You: I don’t know

You nervously replied, still at a loss for words. You didn’t even know how this was happening.

Evan Lee: I’ll be here when you come back 😉

You left it at that, your heart racing in your chest as you scroll up and see the video. Your thumb hovers over it as you contemplate playing it without thinking about it too much. You press the play button, his moans filling your ears once again, and you get immersed in the video in seconds. The way he impatiently bucked his hips up into the toy had you wondering what it’d feel like if he fucked into you like that, and you could already feel your body getting warm and your pussy tingling with excitement.

With his words in mind, you slowly slip your hand down to your crotch beneath your blankets, circling your clit to the thought of him.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone together with him at the same time he did in the video.

The video was only about a minute long, but that’s apparently all it took for you to cream around your fingers, your moans mixing with his as your thumb caressed your clit and your fingers pumped inside your dripping hole. “Yes, Evan,” moaning, you throw your head back, sighing in pleasure, and writhing on your bed in the aftermath.

You: Thank you, Evan

You sent attaching a short clip of you pushing your fingers in and out of your wet pulsing hole.

He opened the notification, and now it was his turn to gasp and cover his mouth. “Fuck” he groans, eyes rolling back in his head.

Evan Lee: so wet, baby. Looks like you really enjoyed yourself

You: I did Evan. came so fast, imaging my fingers were your cock instead

You reply boldly.

Evan Lee: you’d like that, huh? Feeling my cock deep inside that little wet pussy

You: Yes, Evan, so bad

Evan Lee: You have no idea, baby. I’d take care of you so well, but for now, that’s all you get 😉

You: evan :(

Evan Lee: Join my stream tonight, and I’ll put on a show for you. I’ll cum just for you. It can be our little secret.

Before you could reply, the live notification popped up a red circle appearing around his profile picture, indicating he is now live.

You tapped it immediately, joining the stream, a faint smile on your lips as his voice greeted all his viewers.

“Hi, everyone. Thanks for joining my stream,” he smiles, waving to the camera as more viewers start to come in. “I had a lot of fun last stream, and apparently, so did you all,” he teasingly smirks, reading through some comments. “Take off my shirt?” He asks with a chuckle. “But I’ve only been live for like two seconds.” A ding goes off on his computer, showing a payment of fifty dollars, along with a message saying, please take it off. “Only cause you said please,” he laughs softly, lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. “Happy?” He said, running his fingers through his hair and intentionally flexing his bicep while doing so, giving the camera an innocent look like he was unaware of the subtle tease. “It’s a bit cold now. I wish I had someone to warm me up.” he looks into the camera lens, running his hand down his chest and stopping at the waistband of his pants. “Maybe we could do something together to keep us both warm.”

He slips his hand inside his pants, rubbing over his soft cock giving the viewers what they want. “Would you all like that?” He bites on his lip, leaning back on his chair and spreading his legs, leaving little to the imagination of what he’s doing under his pants. “You’ve been waiting all day for this?” He asks, reading through more comments. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Another donation comes in, along with another message. “Take everything off. Wow, you’re all more impatient than last time,” he laughs, standing up and pulling his trousers down to his ankles before sitting back in his chair, lazily stroking his cock till it grows hard, truth be told, he was a little impatient, too. He couldn’t wait to cum for you. “No one even asked about my day just wanted to jump straight into huh?” He teased and couldn’t help but laugh at the comments now flooding in, asking him about his day. “You guys are so cute, but I’m only teasing, enough about my day. I only wanna focus on you.” he looks at the camera, hand working up and down his hard length. “Bet you’re tired and need to relax. Don’t worry. We can play together and relieve all your stress.” he bucks his hips into his palm at a slow rhythm, looking over comments. “Touch yourself with me,” he whispers.

“You look so perfect.” his eyes don’t fail to catch the comment you left, and immediately, he starts jerking off faster, his toes digging into the carpet beneath his feet. “Fuck, you think I’m perfect?” he bites his bottom lip. “You’re even more perfect.” he throws his head back, hissing as his pace increases, the sound of his fist coming down on his balls with each stroke echoing in his quiet room.

He swallows harshly, veins popping on his forearms as he squeezes his eyes shut. Seconds away from cumming, his hand slows down right when he’s on the brink. His body sinks back into his chair as he lets go of his cock, letting it slap across his abdomen. “Shit” he rests his head on his chair, eyes lidded with arousal.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered to yourself, anticipating the visual of him cumming.

“You were close? So early?” Chuckling at the comments, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “What would the fun be in cumming so soon?” He replied. “We still have the night to ourselves” he takes hold of his cock again, still sensitive from denying his previous orgasm. “Don’t you want to play with me longer?” He says, swiping the precum off his tip and rubbing it on his cock.

The sounds of more donations come in while he’s busy grabbing the bottle of lube you bought for him. He had it on his desk and ready to go.

Popping the cap open, he holds it over his tip, dropping an exaggerated amount of it on, squeezing more and more out till it pools around his full balls. “Feels so good” he starts stroking his sticky cock. The sounds every time he rubs his cock are so loud and lewd.

You squeeze your legs together, wetness flowing from your hole as you watch him touch himself.

“Ahh fuck” The slick glide the lube provides for him feels so good, so wet and sticky he just knows you’d feel even better and wetter. He closed his eyes, the sounds of comments and donations drowning out as he imagined the video you sent him. You were so wet and creamy just for him. “Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good” he fists his cock continuously, your image playing behind his eyelids. “You like that, huh? Taking my big dick deep in that little dripping pussy?” More desperate comments follow, but he’s too busy to read. The only thing he’s concerned with is cumming for you. “You feel so good, so tight and fucking wet,” he groans, stroking his lube-coated shaft. “Fuck, I'm close cum with me, sweetheart. I want to cum together, shit,” he breathes out, his hand moving up and down at a rapid pace, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat and his brows furrowed in pleasure. “That’s it, baby, cream on my dick while I cum in your pretty little pussy fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming” his body shudders as long white thick ropes of pearly cum flow from his tip, coating his hand and leaking down to his full balls. “Oh s-shit baby,” he relaxes back in his chair, succumbing to the pleasure the image of you seared in his brain as cums endlessly.

Breathing heavily, he finally comes to, a breathless chuckle, leaving his lips as he strokes himself through his high. “I came so much,” he says, playing with it, scooping it up and covering his shaft while pumping out the last little dribbles of cum. “I’m still so fucking hard.”

He huffs out a breath, using his clean hand to rub his fingers through his damp hair. “Well….. that was amazing. I hope you all feel as good as I do.”

A multitude of comments come in thanking him, telling him how much they enjoyed the live and to cum again. “As much as I’d like to, I’m a mess” he looks down between his legs there’s a mess of cum and lube.

“Don’t go”

“Please stay.”

The comments of people wanting him to stay on stream were endless, but he had something a little different in mind.

“Next time, I will, I promise. Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I really need to clean up,” he laughs. “Thank you all for coming and for all the donations. I’ll make it up to you all next time. I love you all, goodnight.”

With zero shame he ends the live and instantly goes to your guy's shared chats together, messaging you right away. “Did you like it sweetheart?”

Groaning at his abrupt ending you exit out of the app only to tap the notification from him once it appears.

You: Of course, I just wish I could watch you longer.

He holds his cock that’s still hard and pulsing rubbing it up and down. Just your reply was getting him going again.

Evan Lee: I’m sorry, baby, but I’m still so hard, and I just needed to see you. I was imagining your pretty little pussy the whole time, but that’s not enough. I need more of you. I feel like I’m going to explode.

He types out with shaky hands. He doesn’t know why you’re getting him to feel this way, but he can’t help himself. His body is hot to the touch, he’s dripping sweat, and his balls are full of cum, ready to be released for you and only you.

He’s so desperate he doesn’t even let you reply before he’s requesting a video call with you.

You don’t even get a chance to reply or comprehend what’s happening; all you know is that Evan is calling you, and you were not going to decline his request.

“Hi baby, thank god you answered,” he breathes heavily, pointing the camera straight between his legs. “I’m so hard for you,” he whines, bucking his hips up and fucking the air. “I want you so bad,” he whispers, too horny and out of it to make sense of what’s happening.

“Evan,” you whispered, and the sound went straight to his twitching dick.

“Fuck baby, what’s your name? I wanna moan it when I cum for you” he grabs his cock, jerking it steady, and your breath hitched.

“Y-y-n,” you stutter out at the sight of him. You wish you could feel his dick in every last one of your holes. You needed him just as bad; he had no idea the effects he had on you.

“Y/n fuck, This feels so good,” he moans, stroking his cock. “Do you like it, sweetheart, like when I rub it for you?” He pumps his cock, thrusting his hips wildly.

“Yes, Evan, wish I could rub it for you,” you moan, lowering your hand back into your shorts.

“Oh god,” he sighs. “Me too, y/n.” Whimpering, he squeezed his base tightly and jerked it up and down. “I wanna fuck your pretty pussy so bad, fuck!”

“Oh Evan, I want that to more than anything, wish I could feel your cock stretching out my little pussy” you whine.

“Shit, I’d open you up so good fuck you with this big dick. You’d like it rough, yeah? Want my cock fuckin into you nice and deep and so fucking rough.”

“Yes,” you mewled, rubbing through your wet folds and sticking your fingers deep in your pussy, clenching around your digits as your thumb tickled your clit.

His deep, heavy breaths filled your ears, and he could hear your little whines of pleasure. “Yeah, touch that little cunt for me. Finger that wet fucking hole. Imagine that was me screwing that little pussy, baby” he strains, his heart pumping wildly in his chest, and this was better than any stream session.

“Oh yes, Evan, it feels so good,” you reply while keeping your right hand busy between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know,” he moans. “Wish I could see you. Please let me see you, fuck” he pleads, so horny and out of it he really wants to blame his feral ness on the fact he hasn’t had any in a while, but he knows deep down there’s something about you that’s driving him to his breaking point he feels like he’s going to go crazy.

In your arousal-hazed brain, you turn on your camera showing him your fingers shoved deep in your pussy covered in your wetness.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking pretty. Your pussy is perfect. I wanna suck your fingers clean, eat you out and fuck you so good, so deep, till you're moaning my name.”

“I want that too, so bad, my fingers aren’t enough, need your dick stuffing me full, need all my holes filled by you” You pressed your head into your pillows, leaning back, the warmth of your upcoming orgasm covering you like a blanket.

“Y-yn, I can't help it. I’m gonna cum” his head feels dizzy as he fondles himself. His mind is blank, nothing but the idea of you and cumming for you.

“Me too. I need to feel your cum inside me want you to fuck me full,” you breathe out, lost in pleasure as much as him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you,” he moans softly, his load as big as last time, if not bigger, his cum sprayed all over his abdomen and fist. “Cream on my dick, sweetheart, let go,” his voice sends you spiraling down a never-ending hole of pleasure, and you cum seconds after him screaming his name in pure ecstasy.

“Evan,” you whine his name, both of you sinking back into the comfort of your own beds.

“Y/n,” the only thing either of you can see is the faint pulsating of each other's genitals, the aftermath of everything finally settling in.

Heavy breaths fill up your guy's speakers, and neither of you says a word for a solid minute.

“I- um, I’m sorry for calling so late. I just- you know?” He laughs shyly, turning off his camera.

“N-no, it’s okay. I, too, was, you know?” Following suit, you turn off your camera after him.

Chuckling, he nods even though you can’t see him, and he can’t see you.

“So…. I guess I’ll let you go now,” he hums.

“Y-yeah, I guess so. Umm, goodnight, Evan,” you say, a little reluctant.

“Wait, maybe if you’re not busy, we can call again, not like this but just normally,” he says awkwardly and stands up, grabbing the waist of his pants, pulling them up, and tucking his soft cock away.

“O-oh, okay, that’s fine by me.” You smile from ear to ear at the thought of having a call with him tomorrow. You literally couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like a dream come true, and much like you, he can’t help but smile on the other line.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll call you again tomorrow, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you say teasingly.

“Okay, goodnight, y/n. Thanks for tonight; I really enjoyed it,” he hums softly.

“I should be thanking you.” You both share a small laugh. You can hear the grogginess in his tone, and you’re sure he can hear it in yours as well. “Goodnight, Evan.”

“Bye, y/n,” he chirps, hanging up his phone, and he’s never been happier to be a camboy.

Link to my Patreon!

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

#heeseung smut #lee heesung smut #heeseung angst #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #lee heeseung #heeseung #heesung #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #lee heesung x reader

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touyaismycomfortboy · 2 months ago

Text

♡ Forgotten dates...

a/n: idk I just think panicked shoto would be so cute <3

word count: 2.0k

synopsis: you and shoto had a date planned for today, you guys were gonna go out and get ice cream and go to the park. you got all dolled up and waited for him to come pick you up, but as more and more time passed, you started to realize that he had forgotten. now he has to make it up to you.

pairing: shoto todoroki x gn!reader

genre: slight hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, nothing too serious <3

warnings: not proofread and rushed LMAO

you looked in the mirror while you fixed your appearance. you were going on a date with your boyfriend, shoto, and you were so excited. even though you had been on plenty of dates, it always made you happy to spend time with him.

nothing too fancy was happening today, you two were going to get icecream at the local parlor and take a walk around the park. you were going to stuff some cards and a sketchbook in your bag just in case you guys needed something to do after a while.

it was 3:55pm, shoto was supposed to come get you at 4. you quickly slipped on your shoes and glanced one more time in the mirror before running downstairs.

unbeknownst to you, shoto was currently asleep.

he had a rather intense training day today and decided he would rest his eyes for a couple of minutes, but that couple of minutes had turn into hours and, well…

you sat on the couch that was near the window, scrolling on you phone and occasionally looking up to see if you could see shoto, feeing excited and giddy for your guys' date.

4:02, alright, that's fine. not too bad at all, two minutes late isn't bad at all. you looked back at your phone, seeing if shoto had texted you that he might be late, but he hadn't texted you since this morning.

4:08, okay… now it's weird for him to not have texted you. if he was going to be this late this needs a little warning, it's been almost 10 minutes since was supposed to pick you up, suspicious… you opened your phone once more and opened shoto's contact, texting him quickly.

y/n: hey, are you almost here yet??

(sent)

you waited patiently for it to show that shoto had read your text, but you were left on delivered for the next few minutes.

you decided to go wait outside, you could see him if he was walking down the street that way. but you walked all the way out to the sidewalk and saw… nothing.

y/n: shotoooo, where are you??

the vibrations of shoto's phone weren't enough to wake him, still sleeping peacefully in his bed back home.

4:15, okay, are you allowed to be mad now? i think you were allowed to be mad now.

y/n: heyy what's going on? where are u? you were supposed to get me 15 mins agoo

once it hit 4:20, you quickly opened your best friend, mina's, contact and called her. it took her less than 5 seconds to answer and you sighed in relief that at least one person would acknowledge you today.

"hey y/n~! what's up? you usually text me before you call me." mina sounded cheerful on the other end, a small bit of concern lacing her words.

you started to walk into the direction of her house, doing you best to not look angry to passerby. "mina, shoto forgot about our date and he's ignoring me!" you sounded exasperated. "can i come over? i worked hard to look good today, i'm not letting that go to waste."

mina gasped dramatically on the other end, sounds of her shuffling and moving around coming through the speaker on your phone. "getting ready now, i'll meet you halfway!" she quickly hung up the phone, and you laughed at her urgency.

you shoved your phone in your pocket, trying your best to not let this ruin your day. at least you got to hang out with mina, right?

shoto better have a good explanation for this.

mina kept her word, and while walking to her house you saw her pink form frantically running towards you in the distance. when she finally got close, she gasped dramatically once more. "you look so cute!! i can't believe shoto would miss out on the chance to see this!" she crossed her arms and frowned.

you smiled at her, adjusting your clothes. "thank you, mina."

she stomped her foot on the ground, arms still crossed. "how are you being so calm?! you should be so mad at him! look at how cute you are, and he's just ignoring you!" she wrapped her arm around yours and started to lead you to her house. "don't you worry, y/n, we're gonna have so much fun!"

mina didn't tell you this, but as she was walking towards you she was spamming shoto with angry messages.

mina: SHOTO TODOROKI!! explain yourself right now >:( mina: how DARE you flake off my best friend!!! next time i see you you're getting it!!! mina: i'm gonna go steal ur girl since u can't treat her right >:( mina: I SEE HER SHE LOOKS SO CUTE. HOW COULD U ABANDON HER LIKE THIS????

she might have overreacted, maybe.

shoto woke up during mina's spam, half awake and turning his phone on silent from all the notifications and laid his head down.

then, icy fear struck his heart. he immediately sat up, wide awake now.

he opened his phone to look at the time, almost scared to look.

4:38.

he cursed under his breath, quickly getting out of his bed and changing out of his sweaty clothes, trying to look at his phone as he did so.

6 unread messages.

he saw your texts asking where you were, and pangs of guilt hit him in the gut.

he saw mina spamming him with angry messages, and assumed you had told her and that you were with her right now, he had to hurry up.

he ran down the stairs, his hair still a mess from sleep. his sister fuyumi greeted him, but he quickly ran past her, slipped on his shoes, and ran out the door.

he looked at his location on your phone, he saw you were a couple blocks away and walking in the opposite direction of his house, that must be where mina lives. he quickly took note of what street you were on and started running.

he opened your contact and called you, doing his best to run as fast as he could while still being able to hold the phone to his ear.

you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, quickly reaching into it with your free arm that wasn't linked with mina's and looked at who was calling.

mina looked over your shoulder and snatched your phone out of your hand, shoving it into her own pocket. "nuh-uh! he doesn't get to be 40 minutes late and then steal you from me, you're mine now!" she pouted, squeezing your arm tightly.

"well, maybe he has a good reason-"

"nope!" she pointed her finger at you. "he ignored you, now you ignore him for a little bit to get back at him! then you can talk to him."

you sighed, shaking your head. "and you wonder why you're single." you mumbled under your breath.

mina gasped, holding her hand to her heart. "how could you say such a thing!" she asked, feigning offense.

shoto sighed as the call went to voicemail, putting his phone in his back pocket as he ran towards the street you were on. he couldn't blame you for ignoring him, but he wanted to explain himself to you sooner rather than later.

you didn't live that far away from him, so even though you were walking to mina's house you weren't terribly far away from him. he could make it there in just a couple minutes if he ran fast enough.

guilt was making its way into your gut since you ignored shoto's call, but every time you reached for your phone mina smacked your hand away and insisted that you ignore him back since he ignored you first.

you were almost at mina's house, you could see it in the distance, but then you heard fast footsteps running towards you both.

you instinctively turned around and stood in front of mina to shield her, but you were immediately taken aback by shoto running towards you.

your eyes widened, and he finally reached you he bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. did he run all the way here from his house?

you observed his appearance, his hair was disheveled and his outfit was haphazardly put together, he was sweaty and out of breath. he looked like a mess, not typical for shoto.

mina peeked from over your shoulder, gasping and taking a step around you. "shoto todoroki!! you better have a good explanation for this, i was just about to hang out with her!! you ignore her, and now you come and steal her right as i get her?" she crossed her arms and pouted.

you smiled and put a hand on mina's shoulder. "girl, it's okay."

"y/n-" shoto said breathlessly, finally standing up as he caught his breath. you looked into his eyes, and all you could see was remorse and guilt. "-i'm so sorry, really." he took a deep breath. "i was training earlier, and i decided to rest my eyes for a little, and i was asleep for longer than i anticipated, i'm sorry for being so late."

you sighed, a small smile appearing on your face. you were happy that he wasn't ignoring you intentionally, and that he wasn't playing hooky on purpose, but you still felt a little upset.

shoto took your hands in his and ran his thumbs across your knuckles. "i'm very sorry," he looked into your eyes. "would you still like to go out?"

you squeezed his hands lightly, nodding. "yes, of course." you moved your hands away from his, looking over at mina. "sorry, we can plan for tomorrow?" you laughed lightly.

mina crossed her arms again, more playfully this time. "sure, go off with your boyfriend, just abandon me-" she laughed. "go have fun!!"

she waved at you, then looked at shoto and gave him a death stare. "if you do this again, i'm stealing her." she quickly changed her demeanor and waved at you again. "bye-bye!" and walked off.

you giggled at her actions, you loved your best friend.

you looked at shoto, seeing his disheveled hair and reaching up to smoothen it out. "did you even look in the mirror before you left?" you smiled.

"no, i saw the time and had to get to you as soon as possible to apologise." his lips curved upward as you smoothed his hair. "would you still like ice cream?"

once you flattened out his disheveled hair, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. you then held his hand and squeezed it gently. "well, of course!"

shoto smiled at your happy demeanor now, happy that he didn't just ruin your whole day. "let's go."

you all peacefully walked to the ice cream parlor, you got your favorite flavor and shoto got plain vanilla. you convinced him to make it a little more fun by adding sprinkles, then stole a bite.

after you all were done, you walked to the park and traveled down the winding and weaving paths, admiring flowers and occasional birds that passed by. there was a bench that was perfectly in the shade of a large tree nearby and you both decided to sit there.

you sat in comfortable silence for a while, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked at the scenery around you.

"i'm still sorry for being late." shoto spoke, squeezing your hand for a moment. he felt terrible.

"it's not your fault," you squeezed his hand in return, reassuringly. "maybe next time you could just set an alarm." you giggled.

he smiled, nodding in agreement. "i will." he kissed the top of your head. "i love you, y/n."

you moved your head to look at him, a subtle blush covering your cheeks. he didn't take those words lightly, you knew every time he said them he absolutely meant them. "i love you too, sho."

#shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #feat. mina ashido #mina ashido is ur best friend #fluff #slight hurt/comfort #nothing serious #carmen writes bnha

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satorusugurugurl · 5 months ago

Note

would you able to do smth that’s pure full angst??? like angst that doesn’t lead up to smut, love your work btw!!

Choose

Summary: Gojo is forced the choose between his two best friends, Geto or you.

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru AFAB!Reader (slightly implied??)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, torture, blood, physical abuse, pain, character death

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: y’all wanted angst, I deliver 🙂‍↕️ enjoy your meal! Thanks @sugurubabe for your help!

The room was musky, thick was the humidity that had sweat heading against your forehead as you lay on the floor wheezing painfully before another blow hit your stomach hand. You curl into a fetal position, crying out in excruciating pain as boots crunched against broken glass that littered the floor. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go; it was supposed to be easy!

A curse, a grade-two curse! Something both you and Suguru should have been able to handle! But it seemed as though there was no curse, none whatsoever.

What you and Suguru found waiting for you was a curse user and an assistant supervisor who had betrayed you all. Everything had happened so fast. The woman led you down a hall, revealing this supposed curse. You were in front of Suguru, listening to details and trying to sense the nonexistent cursed energy when a heavy thud sounded from behind you.

Nothing could have prepared you to see Geto on the ground out cold. The sight left you frozen in shock as your eyes darted back to the assistant supervisor holding a plank of wood stained with a bit of blood. You tried to act fast, reaching into your uniform to throw a talisman paper at the traitor, but the world went black for you. Someone hit you from behind.

When you came to, Suguru was still out, and the hats when the curse user began his shitty interrogation. He asked over and over again where Gojo was, and every time, you had a smart-ass remark. Which ended up with you getting the shit kicked out of you.

“I’ll ask you again.” The curse user barked out, crouching down next to your face. “Where is Gojo Satoru?”

Holding onto your stomach, you smirked, slowly lifting your head to look at your captor. “Your mom’s house.” Instead of a kick, the bastard backhanded you, making you wince before you cupped the side of your face, trying to hide the pain that you felt throbbing in your cheek.

“I don't like wasting time, and I don't like little liars.”

“Yeah, and I don't like assholes who beat up a couple of teenagers!” You yelled back, ignoring the iron taste that flooded your mouth.

“This is going nowhere; I thought you said the three were inseparable.”

That was true; Before the three of you were sort of a thing, going on dates, making out, sleeping together in the same bed. And that’s how it had been true until last year after the Star Plasma Vessel was killed. Ever since that fateful day, things have changed between you, mostly Gojo, but you could tell Geto was also starting to pull away too. He wasn't sleeping well, refusing to come to your room, go on dates, and you were both getting sent on more solo missions. You were honestly surprised you and Geto had been assigned this mission together, but even the two of them were slipping apart it seemed.

You’d been excited, looking forward to working together with one of your boyfriends? (Maybe you guys weren’t official yet), and had been planning to go on a soba noodles date afterward. Things were supposed to have gone differently today. What you imagined as a pleasant time with one of your best friends had turned into a literal nightmare.

You shot a glance in Geto’s direction. He was still out cold, but from the movement behind his eyes, you were hoping he was going to come soon enough. If you worked together, you might get out of this without further injuries. Until then, you just needed to continue to buy some time, and you could accomplish that by being extra annoying. You did learn from Gojo firsthand.

“T-They are—I thought they’d be assigned this together.”

“Well, he ain't here, is he?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” you spit your blood-laced saliva on the ground, “the band split up!”

“Oh did it?” The curse user asked, cocking a brow down at you.

“Yep! So I wouldn't count on him showing up anytime soon.”

That should have been enough to deter them from following through with whatever plan they had. But your words made your captor smirk. He said nothing as he reached into his pocket, tossing your phone to the traitor, before he moved fast, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you to your feet.

“Why don't we get the band back together then?” You tried out in pain as he slammed you back down against the floor, lifting your head an inch as he crouched behind you. “Take a picture of her and Geto, and send it to Gojo along with the address.”

The flash was both blinding and suffocating as you struggled to free yourself. This wasn't good; you knew if Gojo were to see it, he'd come running. You were his best friends, and even thought he's been busy with training and all the missions he had been sent on, you knew he still cared for the two of you. And when he showed up, he would fall right into the hands of these monsters who were worse than the curses you constantly took out.

With the second flash that flooded the abandoned hospital room that was only illuminated by the light of twilight, you felt panic swell in your chest. You thrashed and screamed against the man still holding you down on the ground, watching in horror as they texted Satoru from your phone. This wasn't happening; it wasn't real; this was a terrible nightmare that was going to end soon, right?!

“There, done.”

“No!” You screamed, kicking your legs out underneath you. “No! You bastards!” Tears welled in your eyes as you focused on Suguru, grimacing near you. “Suguru! Suguru, wake up!”

“You’re too loud!” The curse-user shouted, kicking you in the stomach a second time, followed by a third, before he kicked you in the ribs.

The impact of that fourth hit had you dry-heaving and sobbing from the pain. You collapsed on the ground, vision blurring for a minute before a crashing sound from down below caught your attention. You wheezed painfully, trying to pull yourself up. You had to tell Satoru to run, that it was a trap, but you couldn't speak. Every breath you took was like stabbing to your stomach, to your lungs; everything hurt.

“Suguru?! Sweetheart?!” Satoru yelled, bounding up the stairs towards you. While you might not be able to speak, you used all of your strength to crawl, inching towards the doorway. Maybe your actions would prevent him from stepping closer. “Where are they, you bastard?”

“T-Tor—Toru—” you gasp out, crawling closer to the door to have the assistant supervisor kick you in the stomach this time. “Agghh!!” You screamed out, and you could hear the footsteps running closer to the door.

You didn’t want him to come inside, to be the reason he fell for a trap. But your prayers and wishes didn’t come true. The door flew open, and your best friend stood in the doorway, his blue eyes taking in the scene in front of him. He met Suguru first, watching as his best friend blinked a few times as he started to regain some form of consciousness. Then, pretty cerulean eyes found you. You could see the rage burning within the irises.

“Ah, the infamous Gojo Satoru, finally we meet.” The curse user unsheathed a katana from his side, licking his lips. “. you sure do know how to piss off a lot of people. And a lot of these people want to hurt you in so many ways. I was hired to deal with that pain for them.” The Curse user said in a condescending tone. “They want you to suffer, and they want to hurt bad. So prepare yourself; it’s not going to be pretty.”

“S-Satoru—run,” you whined, trying to lift yourself.

Your friend threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I don't no dumb ass hired you to ‘hurt’ me, but I’ve been living under a rock for the last year. I’m stronger than I was before, and nobody will kill me. So my friends go, and I’ll deal with you.” You couldn’t help but grin even though the pain was excruciating; leave it to Satoru to have a snarky comeback.

“Oooh, I’m sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding.” You blinked, watching as the traitor bitch dragged Suguru towards you, throwing him down next to you, leaving him groaning as he blinked hard, trying to come to his senses. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you. I said I would hurt you, and unlike my clients, I have to know you are untouchable. So if I’m not able to hurt you physically, I decided hurting you emotionally would be much better.”

“Huh?”

The katana slammed against the floor right between you and Suguru’s heads. “Choose.” The curse user said in a deep voice, leaving your eyes wide as you stared at your reflection in the blade.

Satoru froze up, eyes focusing on you and Suguru on the ground. “What?”

“Pick one, him or her.” You swallowed as Suguru's eyes widened in shock.

“I ain't picking one over the other!” Satoru snarled out, looking back at your captor, who was smirking.

“You aren’t going to pick?”

“Fuck no!”

The curse user hummed, twirling the katana around in a circle. The dying light menacingly reflected off the blade. You swallowed harder, looking into Suguru’s eyes as the katana twirled faster. This whole situation, everything about it, left you feeling sick to your stomach.

“Then I guess we’ll choose for you!” The curse user announced, picking the katana up out of the ground.

“You—”

“Nuh-uh!” The katana slanted into the ground, an inch away from your face, making you cry out and fear. “Come near us, use one of your special moves, and I’ll slice both their heads off right here. You might be the strongest, but I can assure you that I’m the fastest.”

Your stomach twisted in pain and fear as your breath fogged against the blade. This really couldn’t be happening right now. You choked on a sob, as the katana lifted out of the ground, allowing you to stare into Suguru's eyes. He swallowed, exhaling through his nose as he inched closer towards you. That subtle action to let you know that everything was going to be okay, that he was there by your side, only caused more tears to stream down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay,” Suguru whispered, his eyes darting towards Saroru, who was clenching and unclenching his fist in apparent concentration, his eyes roaming between the curse user, the traitor, and his two best friends. “Satoru will figure this out; we’ll be okay.”

“Shut the fuck up!” the katana slammed down again, cutting strands of Suguru’s bangs. “I don’t like repeating myself, Gojo. And I believe I ask you a question. Choose. Someone has to die today.”

Dark eyes glittered with amusement as Suguru looked up at the curse user. “You obviously don’t know my friend, he would nev—”

“Suguru.” Satoru blurted out. You slowly turned your head to look at the tufts of white hair that dropped as he clenched his fists harder.

“Satoru.” Suguru purred out, smiling. “What I can—”

“I choose to save Geto Suguru.”

Your stomach twisted in pain as you felt tears welling in your eyes as the curse user barked out a laugh, moving the katana so fast you didn't see it slicing Suguru’s bindings. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Did he re—really just pick Geto? Was he choosing to let you die?

You meant nothing to him?

Your stomach churned with nausea as the room started spinning. You felt like you couldn't breathe as Satoru refused to look at you. He did, and he picked Suguru over you.

Tears blurred your vision as you listened to Suguru cursing as he was quickly unbound. “Wow,” the man towering above you breathed out. It looks like you see where you stand.” Anger and betrayal hit you as you whirled to glare.

“Fuck you—nngh!” he kicks you in the stomach for a fifth time. And the impact made you see dark spots.

“You heard the man; it’s time to die.” he kicked you again, rolling you onto your back, where it was hard to breathe. “I hope you're watching Gojo Satoru; watch the hope and trust she had for you fade along with her life!”

The katana rose up, and you shut your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead of your cries of pain, the man above you screamed. When you forced your eyes to open, you watched as one of Geto's curses shot out, swallowing the man’s upper half in one bite, before swallowing the rest of him in another. Weakly you turned your head as the traitorous bitch was wrapped up in one of Suguru’s other curses.

Your beaten and bloodied best friend was panting as Satoru stared at him in shock. As if he couldn't believe he had stepped in. But his shock quickly dissolved into realization as his head turned towards you, and he moved, running towards you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching to lift you up. But as his hands inched towards you, you pulled away from him, tears running down your cheeks. “Sweetheart?”

“Don't touch me.” you wheezed, vision blurring as your stomach twisted in pain. “Don't you ever fucking touch me again, you son of a bitch.”

“Sweetie, I—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Satoru pulled his hand away as if your words badly burned him. “I-I—” You laughed out bitterly, turning your head, and it was a look Gojo would never forget.

Your eyes were dull, blurred with tears, but he could see the betrayal and hatred swirling within them even with their dull hue. You wheezed deeply, blood seeping out of the corner of your mouth as Geto rushed towards you on the phone, calling Yaga. But nothing mattered nothing but you right then and there.

“Sweetheart, I-I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I promise!”

“You chose Geto.” you spat out, a droplet of blood jotting Gojo’s infinity as you curled in on yourself. “You chose to keep him alive and let me die.”

“I wouldn't have let them!”

“Bullshit!”

The pain in your face was like a million needles to Gojo’s heart as Geto told Yaga about what had happened. “That’s enough right now, you two! Satoru, Yaga wants you to take her back to campus so Shoko can help.” Gojo could see the shame in Geto’s eyes as he hung up the phone. “Princess, Gojo’s going to teleport you to the school.”

“No,” you whispered with a shake of your head.

“Come on! I won't hurt you; let me help you!”

“Don't you fucking touch me! I'd rather die than let you touch me. And you shouldn't have an issue with that, seeing that you picked me to die.”

Satoru gritted his teeth with anger but backed off, giving Suguru a shrug as the other man sighed. “Whatever.” With a sigh of annoyance, Sugiri picked you up princess-style and started running out of the room, heading down the stairs to get you in the car while Satoru followed behind, staring at the ground in shock and disbelief.

He knew you were mad; anyone would have been angry. But he panicked; he had to make a choice; otherwise, he would have lost you both, and that was something he was never going to let happen. Maybe he yelled out Suguru’s name because he was closer to him. Or perhaps it was just out of reflex, but he meant it when he said he would save both of you. There would be no way he would let anything happen to you. Both of you were his best friends.

You were just angry now; it would take some time, and he would explain that to you when you calmed down. All you needed was a little bit of time and space. What was the saying? Time heals all wounds?

Yeah, that was it. He just needed to give you some time to process what happened and allow your wounds to heal.

“Huh?” Gojo asked as he stood in the morgue, staring at Shoko.

“I said there wasn't much we could do.”

His eyes trailed down to the body that lay on the metal slab between him and Shoko. Your face was lax, your eyes shut, and bruises were discoloring your pretty face. This was a joke; it was all a fucked up joke for what he had said, right? You were going to sit up and say ‘jokes on you’ or ‘I got you bitch’ right? But your skin was too ashen, your pulse wasn't racing in your throat, and he couldn't sense your cursed energy with his Six-Eyes.

You were gone.

“B-But I don't understand. W-What happened, she was—she was fine.”

“On the outside, maybe.” Shoko lit a cigarette, holding it between her teeth as she moved some of your hair from your face. “But she took several kicks to the stomach, it looked like, and the sheer force formed an abdominal hematoma that ruptured with that last kick. If she got here a bit sooner, then maybe, just maybe, we could have saved her.” Shoko frowned, pulling the white sheet back up to cover your face. “But there wasn't anything we could do.”

Satoru's hands started shaking as he smelt earthy musk and mint approaching his side. He swallowed hard, turning to find Suguru staring down at your body, an almost unreadable expression on his face. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? One where they both lost their best friend?

“She stayed true to her word,” Suguru whispered as he turned, his white button-down shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “I’m going on a mission to the countryside and won't return for a while.”

Satoru turned, glaring as Suguru opened the door to the hall. “What the hell do you mean she stayed true to her word?!” Suguru paused before looking back at Gojo with dull, lifeless eyes that almost mirrored yours the last time you had looked at him. It was so eerily similar that Gojo took a step back.

“She would have rather died than have you touch her.” His eyes focused on your body before he met Satoru's teary eyes. “And she did just that, all because of your choice.”

With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Gojo standing in the morgue with the body of one of his best friends while his other went off on a mission alone. A mission that would lead to him massacring an entire village. Little did Gojo know his choice would cost him the lives of both his best friends.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

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loonylupinblack3 · 4 months ago

Text

Powerless

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: extremely toxic!rafe, violence, swearing, many threats issued

Summary: you hate being a Pogue. Hate how vulnerable and weak and powerless it makes you. Rafe reinforces this for you.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: heavily based off of season 1 episode three of obx when pope is delivering groceries and Rafe jumps him. also the ferrari sf90 spider is actually my favourite car so i yapped about it a lil bit :)

You were helping Heyward load the grocery bags onto the boat alongside Pope and JJ, stacking the bags of food and other knick knacks in the middle of the vehicle.

“You kids get these groceries over to Figure Eight,” Heyward instructed, grunting as he lifted a pair of heavy bags off the dock and moved over to the boat, Pope, waiting at the ready, taking them from his father. “Get straight back here when you’re done.” He gave you a pointed look. “No fishing.”

You grinned at him, saluting him as you grabbed a pair of bags from him and placed it on the boat. JJ was right next to you, with Pope behind, the three of you working in tandem.

“I promised delivery by this afternoon,” Heyward continued. “Rich folk don’t want to wait for you lazy sons-” Seeing JJ with his arms already outstretched waiting for another bag of groceries and a beaming smile on his face gave Heyward pause. “Oh, JJ, thank you.” As soon as JJ grabbed the groceries he continued. “-sons of bitches.”

He glanced at you. “Excusing you, of course, Y/n. You’re always a delight.”

You beamed at him and JJ gave a scoff. “How come you get all the praise and I get nothing?”

You sniffed, flipping your hair to the side. “‘Cause I’m better.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are-”

Heyward interrupted the two of you. “Hey, alright enough. No bickering. Get your asses moving and deliver these groceries.”

You all gave the man a salute and entered the cabin part of the boat as Pope started it up. Heyward didn’t trust JJ enough to drive the boat and knew you’d end up going the wrong way with your poor sense of direction, so Pope was in charge of steering the vehicle.

You drove through the river, leaving the Pogue side behind and entering Figure Eight, the Kooks domain. You noted the large houses, clean and tidy, and the smooth way they all seemed to be running with enough electricity and clear running water to their heart's content.

“Doesn’t even look like the storm hit there,” Pope exclaimed in indignation. No doubt he was thinking about your own houses, all of them damaged in some way and not yet fixed.

JJ twirled a pocket knife in his hands. “That’s because they got generators, bro. Get used to it.”

You scowled, shaking your head. “And then they say the juice will be out all summer at the cut.”

Pope shook his head, jaw clenched. “Nice to be a Kook.”

You nodded your head in agreement as JJ said, “lucky bastards.”

“One day I’m gonna become a Kook,” you said. “Dunno how yet, but I’m gonna go full Kook, with a pool, mansion, Ferrari SF90 Spider.”

JJ and Pope both groaned as you mentioned your favourite car, again. Sometimes they found you just never shut up about it, going on about the horsepower, the V8 engine, the fact it was the very pinnacle of Ferrari technology, with the thrill and versatility of open top driving.

“Time for you to stop talking,” JJ said, commandeering the conversation. You didn’t mind, content to listen to him for the rest of the way to Figure Eight, where you docked the boat and divvied out the grocery bags between you.

You and Pope were gonna go together, with JJ taking the rest and heading in the other direction. You bid each other quick goodbyes and hurried with Pope, walking around the unfamiliar streets. Everything looked so much nicer here, from the pavement to the shops lining the streets, everything inside looking like it cost more than a week's worth of your pay.

You took a shortcut, walking through the golf course instead of around it. The employees let you through without a second glance. It was surprising what you could get away with as a Pogue working in Figure Eight. The two of you walked on the side of the golf course, talking under your breaths as you looked around cautiously.

“I’m also going to golf here every week,” you stated, watching a particularly fit woman swing a golf club, her muscles flexing with exertion.

You could almost imagine it being you, the golf club, hat, skirt, everything. If you really thought about it, the girl almost looked like you, similar hair colour and figure.

Pope laughed. “You hate golfing.”

You shrugged, swinging the bags in your hands slightly as you walked. “Yeah, but it's what Kooks do isn’t it?”

“What is your obsession with being a Kook?” Pope asked. “I get being rich, everyone wants it, but you seem almost obsessed with it.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself when movement caught your eye. You involuntarily recoiled when you recognised Topper and Rafe heading towards you. Pope noticed too, muttering swear words under his breath and advising you to just walk past and ignore them.

“Hey what’s up guys?” Rafe asked, putting up an innocent facade. He used his golf club to stop your walking, pressing it to the box of beers in Pope’s hand. “Hey how much for one of those beers?”

Pope turned to the side, trying to push past. “They’re not for sale.”

Rafe made a tutting sound. “Wait, wait, wait.” He stopped Pope as he tried to pass, forcing the two of you to stay there. Topper was standing directly in front of you, creating a barrier of sorts across the pathway. “You can just give us one, then, right?”

You wanted to snap at him. Wanted to ridicule him, ask him if he knew what not for sale meant. You were scared though, and you knew it wouldn’t help you or Pope standing up to him like that.

“Or you can order one like everybody else,” Pope replied, again trying to push past.

Rafe was rougher this time, ignoring Pope’s struggles and shoving him back. The coil of fear in your gut tightened. “Listen. Wait, wait, wait, you’re not listening to me. Um…” he gestured with his hands. “You’ve got so many bro, and we’ve got nothing.”

“Got nothing man,” Topper chimed in.

You scowled. “They’re not ours, they’re already paid for.”

Rafe looked at you, surprised you spoke, and then all of his attention was on you. You regretted even speaking, because his attention was like a guillotine, one wrong movement and the blade would fall.

“Oh, already paid for?” Rafe asked. “Knowing you Pogues, you probably stole them, right?”

Before you could stop him he was in front of you, his golf club snagging at the plastic bags in your hands as he pulled. Everything fell to the floor, and you heard the distinct sound of glass shattering.

“What the hell Rafe?!” You cried. “You owe us for that!”

He laughed, getting all up in your space. “Oh I owe you do I? I don’t owe you shit, Sweetheart.” He grabbed your chin, his fingers forcefully curling around your skin.

“Hey, get off her!” Pope yelled, grabbing Rafe’s shirt and yanking him back. You were grateful for the space, rubbing your jaw as the fear weighed you down, down, down.

Rafe spun around, “don’t fucking touch me you Pogue.”

“Come on man,” Topper said from his other side. They had him surrounded. “We just want a beer.” He made a lunge for it. “Just give us one of these.”

Topper and Pope were full on wrestling with the box now, and the fear was in your throat, especially when Rafe joined in, tripping Pope up and making him fall to the floor with a slam, rolling over a few times.

You gasped, going to him, but Rafe got there first. He had a bruise on his head, looking red and scratched. He scrambled upright, a hatred kindling in his eyes as he threw a punch. Rafe was ready though, avoiding it easily and using his golf club to slam into your friend's stomach. When he was bent over Rafe slammed it down again, Pope crumpling to the floor.

You couldn’t watch it anymore. As he raised his club again you moved forward, shoving him to the side. You only managed to move him because he wasn’t expecting it, and even Topper looked surprised, doing nothing to stop you because really, how much damage can a girl do?

You planted yourself in front of Pope, and when Rafe, laughing in disbelief, walked up to you, you were ready. You swung your fist but it was in poor form, Rafe catching your wrist mid-movement. His grip was tight enough to make you wince.

“Getting involved?” Rafe asked you, moving forward until you were chest to chest. “That’s cute.” His voice was low and mocking. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

You yanked your arm back. That was the second time he’d grabbed you and your skin felt dirty, his fingerprints crawling all over you. Rafe just seemed amused, a cruel delight in his eyes. There was no fear in his expression and why would there be? He was a Kook. He had his friend right behind him ready to defend him if needed. His real competitor was still on the floor, pain immobilising him. No, there was no fear in his expression, only a sick satisfaction of knowing exactly how much control he had over this situation.

Pope gave a groan, attempting to pull himself upright but Rafe didn’t even glance at him. His focus was zeroed on you, the intensity of his gaze making your stomach churn. “What’s it like, being a Pogue? Being powerless?”

You opened your mouth to snap at him, to say something humiliating and knock his ego down a few inches, anything to stand up against him. Rafe seemed to know you too well though, grabbing your jaw in a bruising grip, his fingers cold and rough. More threat than affection. “You’d be better off with me, y’know that?”

It wasn’t a flirtation he spoke to you – it was a threat. You could hear the danger in every word, the treacherous promise that he’d never leave you alone, that this sick game of his would only end on his terms. You could see the lines between desire and control blurring, and nauseatingly realised that Rafe’s affection for you might be even more dangerous than his fists.

You tried to jerk away, revolution surfacing inside you but Rafe only tightened his grip. “Nah, don’t do that,” he warned almost lazily. “Don’t make me hurt you too.”

You wanted to cry. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall. You’d hate to give him the satisfaction of seeing them roll down your face. All of this was a game to him, a test to see how much fear he could wring out of you. The worst part was you knew he would do it, just because he could.

Your gaze darted to Pope, your friend just managing to sit upright. Topper was standing to the side, an uneasy expression on his face. You didn’t want Rafe to escalate things any further, because you knew he would, just to prove a point. He noticed your line of sight and forcibly pulled you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear.

“You’re lucky I like you,” his breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. An edge of cruelty laced his tone, as did delight, the same one a kid would get from playing with their toys, which was what you were to Rafe. “Otherwise you’d be right there next to him.”

Before you could answer he shoved you back, hard enough to make you stumble. A sickeningly smug smirk was on his face as he picked up two cans of beer off the ground, chucking one to Topper.

“Catch you later Sweetheart,” he called to you, going as far as sending you a wink, acting like everything had just been harmless fun, which you guessed it was to him.

You watched him saunter away, leaving a mess in his wake that he seemed to do everywhere. Except this time it was worse, because with a sickening dread you realised the next thing he’d leave a mess would be you.

And you suddenly had an answer to Pope’s earlier question. Why did you want to be a Kook so badly? It was simple, really. This whole interaction had just reinforced the feeling that you were too vulnerable, too weak. And the answer appeared from the ashes of Rafe’s destruction, a truth you guarded with your heart.

You didn’t want to be powerless.

#rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #toxic rafe cameron #fanfiction #fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks x reader #rafe outer banks #outer banks fic #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #pope heyward #jj maybank #pogues x reader

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goldfades · 2 months ago

Note

luke hughes + the reader being injured??

i recently had a health scare so this felt fitting

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | i am so sorry, hon! i hope you're okay now, i'm sending prayers your way. i hope this fic cheers you up:(

You’re not sure what wakes you first—the dull ache in your throat or the sound of Luke groaning from somewhere nearby. It could be both, honestly. The room feels heavy, like someone stuffed it with wet towels, and even the pale light spilling through the curtains seems sluggish, like it’s had enough of trying.

Luke is sprawled across the couch, his long legs dangling off the side in defiance of logic, his arm thrown dramatically over his face. If this were any other day, you’d roll your eyes and mutter something sharp about his flair for theatrics, but today, your voice feels stuck somewhere between a croak and a whisper. A small mercy, maybe.

Your head pounds as you sit up, the blanket slipping off your shoulders and pooling around your waist. It smells faintly of the laundry detergent Luke swears by—some over-the-top scent that promises “mountain breeze” but delivers something closer to “mint gum and pinecones.” You hate that you know that.

“Are you alive over there?” Luke’s voice cuts through the stillness, raspy and half-hearted. His face remains hidden beneath the crook of his elbow, but you can hear the faint smirk buried in his tone. Always smug, even when he’s halfway to death's door.

You clear your throat—or at least, you try. The sound that escapes makes you wince. “Define ‘alive.’”

That gets a laugh out of him, a low, gravelly thing that almost makes you forget the way your chest feels like it’s stuffed with cement. Almost.

For a moment, the two of you sit there in silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle or the soft creak of the couch as Luke shifts his weight. It’s not peaceful, exactly, but it’s something close.

And then he says it, casual and careless, like it’s not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard. “You think this is, like, the flu? Or something worse?”

Your stomach flips—not in a swoony, butterflies way, but in the way that makes your heart pound for all the wrong reasons.

“Don’t,” you warn, sharper than you intend, your voice cracking on the word.

But Luke is already peeking out from beneath his arm, his blue eyes wide and almost childlike, like he’s just dared himself into a dangerous game.

You glare at him—or at least you try to. It’s hard to summon much menace when your nose is a clogged faucet and your head feels like it’s caught in a vice. Luke, ever the instigator, smirks like he’s won some kind of battle.

“I’m just saying,” he starts, and you can already tell this is going to be one of those things. “What if we caught some freak virus or something? Like that movie where everyone turns into zombies?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the couch cushion. “Oh my God, Luke. It’s a cold. Maybe the flu if we’re being dramatic.”

“Speak for yourself,” he retorts, finally sitting up. His hair is a mess of dark curls, sticking out in every direction like he’s just been electrocuted, and his hoodie looks like it hasn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in weeks. “I feel like I got hit by a truck. Twice.”

“You look like it too,” you mumble, earning a scoff.

Despite the teasing, there’s a hint of truth to it. Luke looks...rough. His skin is pale except for the flush on his cheeks, and the shadows under his eyes are darker than usual. It’s unsettling, seeing someone who’s usually so full of energy—constantly moving, constantly talking—reduced to this sluggish, worn-out version of himself.

Not that you’re faring any better.

Luke notices you shivering before you do, his brows knitting together in concern. Without a word, he grabs the blanket pooled around your waist and tugs it back up to your shoulders, tucking it in with clumsy, overly large hands.

“Thanks, nurse Hughes,” you mutter, trying to ignore the way the small act of care makes your chest ache—not from sickness, but from something softer, scarier.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, leaning back against the couch, his head lolling to the side. “I’ll add it to my résumé. Right after ‘world’s best little spoon.’”

You let out a weak laugh, though it quickly turns into a cough that rattles your whole body. Luke winces, looking alarmed.

“Okay, you’re officially banned from laughing until you’re better,” he says, holding up a hand like he’s swearing an oath. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Since when are you a doctor?”

“Since right now.” He grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Beneath all the jokes and dramatics, there’s something fragile in his expression, something that makes you wonder if he’s more worried than he lets on.

The silence stretches again, thicker this time, as you both retreat into your own thoughts. You hate it—this heaviness, this uncertainty. And yet, there’s something oddly comforting about sharing it with Luke, about not being alone in this miserable little bubble.

Eventually, he breaks the quiet. “If this is serious—like, really serious—we should probably call someone, right? A doctor or a nurse or...I don’t know, Jack?”

You glance at him, surprised by the suggestion. Luke rarely mentions his brothers in moments like this, like he doesn’t want to bother them with his problems. It’s enough to make you sit up a little straighter, even as your body protests.

“We’ll call if it gets worse,” you say firmly, trying to inject some authority into your voice. “But for now, we’re just two idiots with bad immune systems and a bad case of cabin fever. Deal?”

“Deal,” he says, but his tone is tentative, like he’s not entirely convinced.

Still, he doesn’t argue, and for that, you’re grateful.

The hours blur together after that, punctuated by bouts of coughing, poorly muffled sneezes, and half-hearted attempts at watching a movie. Luke insists on something ridiculous—a cheesy action flick where the hero spends more time flexing than fighting—and you’re too tired to argue.

Somewhere along the way, you both fall asleep, your heads tilted towards each other, the sound of explosions and bad dialogue fading into the background.

When you wake, it’s dark outside, and Luke is still slumped against your shoulder, his breathing deep and steady. For the first time all day, the room feels light again, like maybe, just maybe, you’ll both be okay.

You let your eyes drift shut again, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. Whatever this is—flu, cold, or just plain bad luck—you’ll face it together.

The room is quieter now, save for the occasional sniffle or cough breaking the stillness. Luke has been lying back on the couch, his legs stretched out lazily, but his restless fidgeting hasn’t gone unnoticed. His fingers drum lightly against the armrest, and every so often, his gaze flickers toward you, like he’s checking to make sure you’re still breathing.

You’re curled up in a blanket cocoon on the opposite end of the couch, trying to ignore the dull throb in your temples and the growing itch in your throat. It’s not exactly restful, but you’re too exhausted to care.

"Okay, that’s it,” Luke says suddenly, his voice rough but full of determination. He sits up straighter, the movement jolting you out of your daze.

“What now?” you ask, blinking at him through half-lidded eyes.

“You can’t just sit over there looking all pitiful,” he declares, as if he’s just made a groundbreaking discovery. “Come here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Come where?”

“Here,” he repeats, patting the space next to him. “You’re obviously freezing, and I’m not letting you turn into a popsicle on my watch.”

“Luke, I’m fine,” you protest weakly, though the shiver that runs through you betrays the lie.

“Uh-huh. Sure you are.” He gives you a pointed look, one that says he’s not buying it for a second. “Now stop being stubborn and get over here before I drag you myself.”

You huff out a sigh, but the truth is, the idea of being warm—of being close to him—is more appealing than you’d like to admit. Slowly, you shuffle across the couch, dragging your blanket with you like a reluctant child.

“Happy now?” you mutter as you settle in beside him.

“Not yet,” he says, and before you can protest, he’s pulling you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you against his chest.

“Luke,” you start, but your words trail off as his warmth seeps into you, the steady rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing.

“Shh,” he murmurs, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. “This is non-negotiable. Doctor Hughes says you need cuddles for recovery.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how medicine works,” you mumble, though you don’t pull away.

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “It’s an advanced technique. You wouldn’t understand.”

Despite his playful tone, there’s an undercurrent of something more serious—something you can feel in the way his arm tightens around you, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. It’s in the way his fingers trace absent patterns along your shoulder, a nervous habit he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing.

“Luke,” you say quietly, tilting your head to look up at him. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see it—the worry he’s been trying so hard to mask with jokes and bravado.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s more for his benefit than yours, you think, but you nod anyway.

“We’re both gonna be okay,” you reply, letting your head rest against his chest again.

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. It’s heavy with unspoken words, but it feels safe—like the two of you have built a little cocoon against the outside world, even if it’s just for tonight.

Luke shifts slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you. His other hand comes up to rest on your arm, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “If you tell anyone I’m being this nice to you, I’ll deny it.”

You laugh, the sound muffled against his hoodie. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The weight of exhaustion finally starts to pull you under, but as you drift off, you feel Luke’s lips press a feather-light kiss to the top of your head.

“Rest,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

And for the first time all day, you believe him.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #luke hughes x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

youtube

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

youtube

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

#rita hayworth #jane fonda #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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xan-izme · 7 months ago

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Double Life 10 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: When will you learn to trust?

Part 9, Part 11

TW: attempted assault, violence, slight angst, cursing

Loud music blasted in your headphones as you were landing multiple hits against the punching bag.

Flashes of everything that frustrated you. Miguel. Jason. Your own feelings that went against being Spiderwoman.

Your breathing increased as you hit harder and harder. Focusing all of your anger and frustrations on the poor punching bag.

You had to stop before you break the punching bag with your super strength. You took a seat on a bench and began to drink some of your water. Still stuck in your own thoughts. Ignoring everything and everyone in the gym. You sighed as you leaned your head against the wall behind you. The music playing from the gym speakers calmed you a bit.

The music being calmer than your intense hateful playlist.

You've gone back to hitting the gym. You had a lot of time to yourself. A lot of grieving. You needed to get yourself together. Even if you didn't have the mentality to do so.

After lifting a few weights for a few more hours. You head out the gym. A little reluctant to do so, but it was getting dark, and you don't really want to get a lecture from Alfred like last time.

He went on about you being a young lady, and how it was far too dangerous for you to be out at night, especially in Gotham. Which you understand. His concern for you is nice. You appreciate it greatly, but you just don't have the patients tonight.

As you walked past a diner. You could smell the food. You stopped and sighed. Trying to resist the urge. There was dinner at home.

Of course. You gave in and went into the diner. Ordering a meal and taking a seat in a booth.

You happily ate. Finally seeming to cool down. The anger you had washed away. Now you were just sad. You sighed when you finished eating. Giving your waiter a sweet smile after you paid the cheek.

You silently sat brooding to yourself. wondering of the future. Of the past. Possibilities. What will your downfall be? when will your downfall be?

will you die alone? under that mask you hid under for years?

or surrounded by family. By loved ones.

You decided it was probably time to get up and get back to the manner. You left the Diner and walked down the almost empty street. Police sirens from different directions could be heard

Suddenly. You felt your spider seances spike up. Thats when you heard a scream come from an alleyway down the street.

You wasted no time and sprinted down to the alleyway. You immediately spot about 7 men trying to assault a woman. You grab a trash bag that was filled and hit one of the men.

You were quick. Punching one of the men who had a bat and ripping it out from his hand. You get punched in the gut. And in the face. Causing you to stumble back.

Before you could do anything else. A flash of black was seen. And someone stood in front of you. Tall. Dressed in black with. . . a cape?

You noticed the men all freeze. Staring at the figure in front of you with absolute terror. You slowly look up to the figure. And you felt your heart drop to your ass.

"Batman. . ." You mumbled at you stare up at the vigilante with wide eyes. The Batman stared down at you. Just. Stared down at you. Before you could do anything else, Batman rushed to knock down all five men. You tried to search for the woman from before. But she was already running.

Your spider senses spike up again. You duck down from a punch thrown by one of the men. You turn to deliver a hard punch back. But was beaten to hit.

Another man in a suit his colors noticeable. Nightwing, grabs the man and throws him against a wall.

You backed away as you watched The Nightwing take care of two other men who came at him with ease.

You were wondering if you should run. You turn around and attempted to leave. But you were stopped.

"Hold it kiddo." A firm grip was on your shoulder. You turn around and see Nightwing. Batman close behind. Both men staring down at you. You got really nervous.

"Hey, your safe now." Nightwing pats your head reassuringly. It was. Oddly familiar.

"We're taking you to the police station." Batman suddenly spoke. You got nervous again. You greatly respected Batman. But you were scared.

And you know they could see it. You frowned deeply and took two steps back.

"Thanks, but I'm good." You gave them a cold look. You turn to walk away. But Batman was suddenly in front of you

"Shit-!" You took a step back. Batman frowns. "Language. I wasn't asking. We will take you to the police station." He suddenly grabbed you and lifted you off the ground.

"Whoa! Hey, let go of me!" You shouted as you were thrown over his shoulder.

"Hey, um. Maybe you should put her down I don't think she's comfortable with that-" Nightwing gets cut off by Batman's glare.

"Neverminded. . . I'll just shut up." Nightwing looks down to his feet to avoid Batman's glare.

You were taken to the Police station unwillingly and had to wait for an unhappy Alfred and Jason who was mocking you for getting in trouble. Which you responded with a middle finger.

"Imagine getting arrested?"

"I wasn't arrested jackass."

"Alfred she just cursed at me!"

"Did I stutter? Or are you going deaf. From that chunk of grey hair you got, hearing loss got to be one of the many stages of getting old."

"Excuse me?"

"Your excused."

You and Jason continued to bicker in the back of the limo. Alfred reached his limit with the two of you when you two kept cursing at each other.

"If you both do not stop bickering, I will report you both to Master Bruce, am I understood?"

You and Jason were quick to quite yourselves down.

Bruce stormed around the Batcave while taking off his mask.

"What was she thinking?" Bruce grumbled as he walked up to the controls and big screens.

"She was trying to help." Dick spoke as he leaned on a wall. Watching Bruce get onto the computers and get onto the surveillance cameras around Gotham. Replaying you leaving the gym. Then leaving the diner. And then running straight to the alleyway. Into danger.

Dick frowns slight. He does agree

"She could have gotten hurt. Those men could have had guns. They could have-" Bruce clenched his fist. Stopping himself as he switched the cameras to live surveillance of the manor

". . . She's safe now Bruce. Look." Dick pointed to the live surveillance of you entering the Mannor with Jason and Alfred.

Bruce let out a small breath of relief. You were safe. At home. Were you are protected. Where he can protect you.

The next morning, you were alone with Alfred. You were in your room in your bathroom. Seemingly working on a new invention in the bathtub while listening to music.

Crying a little while working on your wires. Letting out a frustration by crying a little helped a little bit.

While you were in your own little world. Bruse came up the stairs, your bedroom door was open as always. but you were not at your desk. He sees the bathroom light on and calls out for you. But you don't respond. So, he knocked on the bathroom door.

You still didn't hear him due to your headphones. You shocked yourself a bit, causing yourself to curse and drop your little gadget. In a hurry to catch it you hit your head against the shower glass causing the headphones to fall off and causing you to curse louder.

Bruce heard the commotion going on in the bathroom. He knocked a little harder and called your name again.

"Are you okay?" You can hear the worry in Bruce's voice.

"Um- Yeah! I'm okay. Just--shiiiii. . . ow." You grumbled.

Bruce awkwardly stood at the door. "I'll just. . . wait out here."

Bruce takes a seat on your bed and just waits for you to come out. He glanced around the room. He's happy you decorated the way you wanted it. Instead of leaving the walls and shelves bare.

You came out of the bathroom. Kind of looking like a mess yet smiling at him nonetheless.

There it is. You had that smile that said something was wrong.

"Hey. Sorry I just. Tripped."

As you rant on whatever excuse you had. Bruce watched your movements. Clenching your jaw as you spoke. Pacing around the room. Rambling. Looking anywhere but at him.

You're stressing about something. But what. You won't tell him. He could ask, like he's done before. But you always seem to create this wall after he asks you if you were okay. Or how you were feeling in any emotional way.

The wall always seems to be getting bigger and bigger.

"I wanted to talk to you about setting a curfew. And, laying down a few more rules." Bruce spoke as he stood up from your bed.

You paused. "Oh, okay."

Bruce sighed. "I just- You haven't told me about what happened last night." He was still upset with the attitude you gave Batman(him) that night. Completely different from how you are with him.

"Oh, I just thought since Alfred already told you. . ." You stuttered a little.

"Things like this. You were in serious danger. Why didn't you just call for Alfred to get you?"

"If I did that. What would have happened to that lady then?" Your tone firmer now. It seems you want to stand ground.

"You could have called the cops. Call out to other people to help. But you went in alone!" Bruce spoke with a deep frown as he took a step forward.

"Cops would be too slow. There were people around but they were doing nothing. Even after she screamed!" You didn't like how Bruce was scolding you. Scolding you just like how she used to.

"She was alone. Screaming for help. If I didn't do anything she would have been-"

"You could have been met with the same fate if those vigilantes didn't get there when they did!" His voice raising slightly. Silence fell upon the room as your jaw clenched, you avoid looking him in the eyes. You were getting angry.

". . . I had it handled."

"No you did not! It was you against a bunch of grown men. There was nothing you could have done to prevent what could have happened." Bruce was just worried. Frustrated. Angry.

You look back at him, your eyes narrowed as you took a step forward. Speaking before thinking. "And what do you know huh? You know nothing 'bout me! you know nothing! You think you can waltz in my damn life and take me away from all I know you can tell me what I'm capable of?" Your voice began to raise as your tone became more aggressive.

"You might got the papers to prove you my pops. But you're not, you're not! So, stop playing daddy and acting like you know every fucking solution to my life when you weren't even there!"

Silence

Absolutes silence

It took you seconds to realize you just lashed out. And so many things that should have been kept in.

"I- Im sorry I didn't mean it. . ."

Bruce lets out a small sigh as he turns around and spoke in a solomed tone "Your curfew is 9:00." He shut the door behind him.

". . . Fuck."

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---

A/n: So, whoever wants to get tagged for this series than comment so I can tag u. Ik a lot of people have been asking and I'm sorry I'm late. I also got a question of the readers age, she's 16.

#x daughter!reader #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara #miles morales #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #batman #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spidersona #batfam #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #dc universe #crossover

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lowkeyerror · 4 months ago

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Deadly Alliance

Jennifer Check x Reader x Needy Lesnicki

Worrd count: 3.7k

Notes: Vampire!Reader, cannon typical explicit content, blood, talk of murder, kissing

Summary: When looking for a prey you find yourself at the mercy of Jennifer Check. She doesn’t want much from you, just for you to make her friend Needy a vampire.

An: I said vampire !reader x Jennifer Check and I have delivered. I wasn't going to involve Needy, but a lot of Jennifer’s motivation in the movie is her relationship with Needy. I kind of got lazy at the end and didn't know what to do... but hopefully it's not too bad. (Not proof read)

Halloween Masterlist | Masterlist

Twigs and leaves alike crumple under your heavy steps. The cold air of the night was rigid against your skin. Your lungs were burning, but you refused to stop running.

Nothing should’ve been capable of keeping up with you. Your supernatural speed should’ve outmatched that of any man or animal. So as you found yourself being chased through the woods of Devil’s Kettle, you felt fear bubble up inside of your chest.

All at once you collide into something that feels like a brick wall. You’re knocked onto the soft ground, you feel the mud seeping into your clothes.

When you look up, you’re able to make out the silhouette of a girl. Her eyes seem to shine in the night, though the are completely black.

“Well aren’t you fast?”

You knew that voice, but you didn’t know where you recognized it from.

“You’re faster,” you groan from your position on the ground. You wit up back make no move to stand.

Her head tilts to the side and she groans, “You’re a girl.”

“And what are you a sexist demon?”

The woman doesn’t respond but soon you let out a strained puff of air as the back of your head hits the floor. With a power that you wouldn’t expect a hand on your chest presses you into the ground. You’re aware of her thighs straddling you and squirm a bit under her.

“Strong girl, I’m-”

“Jennifer?”

Her hand is rough as it grabs your chin, “How do you know my name?”

You see her eyes squint, but she still wasn’t able to see as well as you. Your eyes glowed a dim red as they searched her features.

“It’s Y/n,” you murmured.

She pulled your upper body off of the ground so that you two were face to face.

“Holy shit, what the fuck are you doing out here?”

“Hunting,” you said.

She let a wide smile coat her features, “Hunting what?”

You bare your fangs at the cheerleader, “Dinner.”

Jennifer laughs, “Bloodsucker, yet you're calling me a demon.”

“Well what are you?”

Jennifer shrugs, “Indestructible.”

She gets off you and offers you a hand, you cautiously take it.

“So I won’t tell anyone what I saw, you won’t tell anyone about you saw and we go our separate ways,” you proposed.

Jennifer eyes you a bit, “Sure, I’ll see you in class bloodsucker.”

She’s gone in the blink of an eye. You look at where she stood, shaking your head before continuing your hunting.

The next day at school was fairly normal. You are lunch in the library as usual. You picked at the food, while scrolling through your phone.

“Hungry?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, “What are you doing in here?”

Jennifer takes a seat next to you sliding her hydro flask in your direction. You can smell it from across the table. You try to keep your composure as you reach for it. The liquid feels warm when it goes down your throat. You know it's fresh.

“Better than the cafeteria lunch?”

You nod your head, “Way better, now what do you want to talk about?”

Jennifer props her head up in her hand, “Well after last night, I got to thinking and I’m curious about you bloodsucker. About your… hunting. Are you more of the catch and release type or?”

You smile to yourself, “I don't believe in catch and release. Whatever I catch is mine to do what I please with.”

“So you’re literally just killing people.”

You look at her with wide eyes, “Keep your voice down and don't think I'm letting you take the high road here. You’re killing people too.”

She’s slightly offended by your words, “No, no, the difference is I’m killing boys.”

“A body is a body Jennifer,” you rebuttal.

She crosses her arms over her chest, “If that were the case, you wouldn’t have made it out of the woods last night.”

You scoff, “If you think you could've killed me back there you’re wrong.”

Jennifer raises an eyebrow, “Oh really? Then why were running for your life like a scared little bitch?”

Your fist clenches at your side, “Is it unnatural to run when you’re being chased? Just because I can’t die doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain.”

“What do you mean, you can’t die? Fire, wooden stake, garlic, all the stereotypical things right?”

You shake your head, “Wrong actually. Trust me, I’ve tried a number of things to not have to endure this.”

“Interesting. Look bloodsucker, I think we should help each other out.”

“I don't need your help,” you deadpan.

Jennifer’s eyes darken, “Oh but you do, because I know what you are now. So you’re going to help.”

“Blackmail, great. What do you want?”

Jennifer smiles, “My friend Needy, she needs a new direction in life. Her loser ex broke up with her and she hasn't been herself. I think revenge is the best way to heal.”

“What does any of that have to do with me?”

“I’ll handle the boyfriend and you handle Needy.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what she’s suggesting, “You want me to turn your friend.”

Jennifer nods, “Simple.”

You shake your head, “Not simple did you not hear me when I said I don’t believe in catch and release.”

“Well time to start believing.”

Jennifer tries to exit at that note but she finds herself unable to get up. When she looks at you, she can see red hues in your eyes.

“We aren’t done here,” your voice has an unnatural echo to it as you speak lowly.

“Powers of persuasion, nice,” Jennifer compliments.

The red leaves and you look at her intensely, “What you’re asking of me… I can’t. Jennifer, I do not have control over myself in most feeding situations. I’ve tried a few times to… make companions. My thirst is insatiable.”

In an unexpected move Jennifer reaches across the table putting her hand in yours, “Aren’t you tired of being alone? People like us, all we have is each other. I’ll level with you Y/n, I think together we can become something amazing. I want the power, but I can’t do it without Needy.”

You scan her features, “Why not?”

“I- I need her,” Jennifer whispers.

You understand the implication in her voice, “So what, I turn your girlfriend and then what happens to me?”

Jennifer lifts your hand off of the table and kisses your knuckles, “And then we're all powerful.”

The bell rings signifying the end of lunch.

“You’ll find my address in your locker, come over around 6. Bye bloodsucker.”

Once she is gone, you put your heat down on the table and groan. In less than 24 hours Jennifer Check has made your eternal existence even more complex. Yet you find yourself intrigued by the demon. She was damn persuasive; her lips were warm against your hand.

When you catch your bearings a bit you hurriedly exit the library, heading for your next class. You don’t get very far in your rush before you’re colliding with someone at the library’s exit.

Your hands are firm in the dips of their waist. It was something like the pose of a dance. Your lips were close to their neck, you could smell slight vanilla of their perfume. The sound of their pulse beating rapidly makes you want to bare your fangs, but you ignore that feeling.

“Are you alright?”

You finally take a look at the person you bumped in to. Fate had decided to thrust Needy Lesnicki right into your arms.

Her glasses must’ve been knocked off in the clash. Her eyes were unconsciously scanning your body. You didn’t mind in fact you found her lack of answer cute.

“Needy are you alright?”

The second time you say it, she seems to snap out of her trance. She nods a few times before going to take a step out of your hold. You’re quick to pull her back into you. Her arms get pressed between your bodies leaving her hands to rest on your chest.

“Oh,” she squeaks out her face brightening with every second.

“You almost stepped on your glasses.”

You bend down to get her glasses, cleaning them with the bottom of your shirt before handing them back to her.

“T-thank you,” she stutters out, finally stepping away from you.

“No problem, I’m sorry I nearly ran right through you. I was trying to get to class,” you apologize.

She shakes her head before looking down, “No, I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around Needy.”

She watches as you speed down the hall before speaking to herself quietly, “Bye Y/n.”

Even as you get farther from Needy the sound of her pulse echoes through your ears. Her vanilla scent lingers in your nose. There’s an innocence to her that part of you wants to protect, but the other half wants to corrupt.

She’s cute and the thought of drinking her blood sends small shocks through your body. The idea of her being like you was thrilling. The only thing that gave you pause was your thirst.

If you sank your teeth into her neck, you'd have to rely on Jennifer in case you got out of hand. How could you trust Jennifer to keep you around after the deed was done?

Though you had concerns and questions you still found yourself at Jennifer’s front door at 6 pm.

She opens the door and drags you up to her room.

“Glad you decided to show up.”

“What am I here for?”

She rolls her eyes, “We’re getting Needy tonight.”

Your mouth hangs open a little, “You want to do this today?”

“No better time than the present. Now, show me your fangs.”

You’re reluctance doesn’t last long as your fangs appear. Jennifer steps into your personal space. Her finger reaches out and carefully traces your sharp teeth. She pricks her finger on the point of one of your teeth.

“Careful,” you say, grabbing her wrist.

She doesn’t shrug you off. Instead her eyes stare deeply into yours. The room stills as she does. Your grip on her loosens and your fangs retract.

“How did you get like this?”

The question hangs in the air.

“When I was younger, I was sick. Not like a child and flu, more like I’d be lucky if I made it into my teens sick. My parents… they were desperate to keep me alive. So on the day that I flat lined, they took me to this man. He wasn't a doctor, but he promised them that he would be able to cure my illness. They were skeptical, but they didn't have time to be picky. He wasn’t a vampire, but something like a supernatural mad scientist. He injected the vampire venom directly into my body. All I remember is waking up, and feeling like I was starving.”

You don’t want to finish the story. Hungry was an understatement, you were ravenous. It was hardly you, more of the monster they had made you be. They saved your life, but at what cost?

Jennifer can see the guilt written clearly on your face, “That’s not your fault.”

“It was the worst day of my life. I wish that I'd died that day. That my parents could've just let me go. They would still be here, if they let me die,” your voice dies of at the end.

You try to hold your tears back, but one escapes. A single drop of blood travels from your eyes down your cheek. Jennifer wipes it away for you.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” the sincerity in her eyes had you reeling.

You clear your throat, “It’s fine, what about you? How did you become whatever it is you are?”

She looks away from you, “ Low Shoulder tried to use me as a sacrifice, but it didn't work because I'm not a virgin. So I’m like this now.”

“During the fire?”

She nods, “Yeah, I don't really know what I am anymore. I’m strong, fast, and nothing can hurt me as far as I know. But that's only if I eat people, I get weak if I don’t.”

“So you need the meat and I need the blood?”

“I guess this works out for us then doesn’t it?”

You smile a bit, “ Maybe but where does Needy fit into this?”

Jennifer eyes you curiously, “ I already told you, I need her around.”

“I know, but if I’m turning her… she might need me,” you speak hoping Jennifer was understanding what you are implying.

“Well I said we would stick together,” Jennifer misses your point.

You sigh, “What if I wanted her around the same way you seem to.”

Jennifer makes an ‘o' shape with her mouth, “ I get it now. If that were the case then maybe I could learn to share.”

Relief crosses you features, “Great-"

“But, Needy deserves the best and as her best friend I think only I can determine what’s best for her.”

You furrow your brow, “What does that mean?”

Jennifer’s hand trails up your arm before gently cupping your face, “It means I need to try you out first.”

“Oh.”

You let Jennifer take the lead with little to lose at this point. Her lips touch yours softly. You move with her the slow pace building with the seconds that pass. She lets out a small whine against your lips.

Without your permission your fangs come out. Your hands go to Jennifer’s shoulder slightly pushing her away in embarrassment.

She laughs as she sees the red blossom over your face, “Does that mean you like me or something?”

“Something like that,” you mumble.

“I like them, it’s cute,” she comments.

Your hands go to cover your face, “So what’s the plan?”

Jennifer goes into a somewhat vague detail about startling Needy a bit, before appearing in her room.

It sounded simple enough, but you still questions on your mind.

“What about Chip?”

The demon circles you placing her hand on your shoulder, turning you towards the mirror. Your reflection was blurry, but there.

“I was thinking maybe we could grab him for a late night snack? Needy will be hungry after the change anyway right.”

You meet her eyes in the mirror, “Oh you’re cruel.” Jennifer goes to interrupt you but you cut her off, “I like it.”

Once the discussion is over the two of you launch into the plan. You wait for Needy’s mom to leave for work. When she does, Jennifer goes into the house.

“Are you coming?”

“Invite me in,” you say.

She giggles, “Out of all the things that are real that’s one of them?”

“Hey, it’s good that I don’t burst into flames when the sun touches my skin,” you argue.

She invites you in and the two of you head up to Needy's room. Jennifer positions you in the closet and tells you to wait for her to come back with Needy.

You don’t wait too long before you hear the door open. Needy frantically calls her mom’s name out a couple of times. As she gets closer to the room, you work to keep still.

You watch Jennifer climb into the bed seconds before Needy enters the room. Your eyes don’t leave her figure as she begins to strip for bed.

It's when she climbs in bed, seemingly relaxed that Jennifer makes herself known. Needy is quick to reach for her lamp, but you’re quicker.

“Hi there Needy.”

“GET OUT!”

Jennifer kneels on the comforter, “But we always share your bed when we have slumber parties.”

Needy’s eyes flit to you.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we bumped into each other. The chemistry was a little electric wasn’t it Needy? Left you a little speechless.”

Your hands reach for her waist, stepping forward so your front is against her back. At the same time, Jennifer shuffles across the bed, taking Needy’s glasses off. The brunette makes sure to move some of blonde’s hair while combing through it, giving you a clear view of her neck.

“Is that my Evil Dead T-shirt?”

Jennifer doesn’t answer her. The demon cautiously closes the gap between Needy and herself. Her lips lightly graze Needy’s, not yet in a full kiss.

Your lips are delicately as they trail up the side of Needy’s neck. The pecks follow a steady pace. It helps keep you from getting over excited. When your lips aren’t connected with her neck, your breath skims over the skin.

The hesitation is still present but no one is stopping as Jennifer begins to kiss Needy with more longing. You suck lightly on the blonde’s neck. Jennifer lays down on the bed silently inviting the blonde on top of her. You lick a long stripe up Needy’s neck.

The green eyed girl turns her head to meet you in a kiss. It’s intoxicating as her lips cascade over yours. Her tongue shyly slipping into your mouth. It takes everything in you to grip her jaw in your hand and direct her attention towards Jennifer.

With more fever in her movements the blonde surges forward to continue kissing the brunette.

You watch as desire courses through your veins. Your eyes take in every detail as Jennifer’s legs start to envelope Needy. The blonde’s sleep shirt slowly rising up her back to reveal smooth skin. The painstakingly slow grinding had you on edge.

It's over too suddenly as Needy nearly jumps off of Jennifer, “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!”

Jennifer laughs, “Oh my god Needy, I’ve never heard you drop the F-bomb before."

The blonde begins to ramble, “I-I-I saw you. I saw you.”

“A deep breath would do you good, sweetheart,” you interject.

“I’m going to call the police.”

You sink to her level, making sure to meet her eyes. Unlike with Jennifer where there were only specks of red in your irises, this time it was the entire thing, “I don’t think you’ll be calling anyone.”

Needy looks between you and Jennifer a few times, “What do you want from me?”

Jennifer pouts, “I just want to explain some things to you. Besides, when people are as close as we are we shouldn’t keep secrets.”

Needy nods, though her uncertainty lingers. Jennifer tells Needy about what happened during the night of the fire. You can see the apprehensive look take place on Needy’s face.

It's easy to tell that Jennifer’s lost her when she demonstrates her powers but cutting open her arm. Tensions rise and almost jeopardize this entire thing.

“Needy, hear me out,” you plead, stopping Jennifer from making her exit.

“And what’re you ?” The exasperation in her voice says it all.

“Something you should be more familiar with,” you speak then flash your fangs at her.

“A vampire,” she says in a hushed tone.

Your glare almost goes through her, “Jennifer has a bit more standards when it comes to getting full than I do. Jen likes to rid the world of scummy, crusty, pitiful, boys. Me on the other hand, I’m not so picky.”

She gulps as you move closer to her, “ I-is this a threat?”

You shake your head nonchalantly, “Of course not, but let’s think about something for a moment. If I wanted to hurt you… if Jennifer wanted to hurt you, it would’ve happened already. If I wanted to control you, I could influence you to do whatever I wanted with a simple look. We’re giving you a lot of free will here, that we just don’t have to.”

“Why?” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she speaks.

“Tell her why, Jennifer,” you look at the dark haired girl.

Jennifer looks at the girl she just made out with, “ Needy, we’ve been friends for a long time. I’ve always known that I wanted to be more than friends. When we would play boyfriend-girlfriend when we were younger, I knew. It’s kind of funny when you think about how your nickname became Needy, when it was always me that needed you.”

“Jen- ”

“When you got with Chip I hated him, I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone as much as I hated him. At least until he dumped you, then I hated him even more for wasting an opportunity I’d never even gotten. Don’t you want some kind of revenge?”

You stare at Needy, “I think revenge sounds sweet. Jen and I could get it for you or perhaps you could get it on your own.”

Needy keeps her eyes on Jennifer, “Are you saying you want to be with me?”

Jennifer shakes her head, “I don’t want to, I need to.”

Needy’s defensive stand lessens as she looks between the two of you.

“And what do you want from me?” The blonde looks at you.

You drink in her appearance without any shame, “I didn’t question it when Jennifer said she needed you, but I didn’t understand it. Fate worked quickly to make me understand when we bumped into each other. There’s just something about you, Needy. It pulled me in instantly, and I just wanted more.”

Needy looks away from you trying to hide the rapid color spreading across her face , “How would this even work? You’re both technically murders and kind of immortal. I’m just some girl.”

Jennifer frowns, “You’ve never been just some girl Needy. You have limitless potential, you just have to let us unlock it.”

“H-how?”

This time it’s your hand that’s exposing Needy’s neck. You let your normal teeth slide against her warm skin, “Let me bite you, Anita. Fulfill your potential.”

She looks at Jennifer for comfort.

“You can say no to all of this and we’ll leave, but come on Needy, doesn’t a part of you want this; want us?”

There’s an intense silence that follows.

“Do it.”

Your teeth sink into her neck fairly quickly. Her blood is bitter like a perfectly aged wine. You control your breathing, focusing on not drinking her dry. The longer your teeth are in her neck you become more restless. You don’t want to stop tasting her like this, you can feel yourself getting carried away.

“Y/n,” Jennifer says your name like a command.

Her voice startles you it sounds the same as it did when she chased you through the woods. Part of you feared it, and you were grateful for that fear.

You retract your fangs, but can’t help yourself as you continue to lap up Needy’s blood. A firm grip on your wrist stops you from going any further. You expect it to belong to Jennifer, but are surprised to see that it's Needy. You remove your mouth from her neck.

“How do you feel?”

Her green eyes are nowhere to be seen. They’re red as she scans her surroundings.

“Thirsty,” her voice echoes when she speaks.

You smirk, “How about we get ourselves a little snack? I was thinking something like a bag of chips.”

Jennifer agrees, “I’d love a chip. Needy?”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

#lowkeyerror #jennifer x needy #jennifer check #jennifers body #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check imagine #jennifer x needy x reader #needy lesnicki x reader #needy lesnicki imagine

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