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Do you guys think there would be a monster version of Extreme Cheapskates?
Like this guy, Buzz Wingman, ↓
would show up on some MH students' TVs when they check TLC because they're bored or something
Maybe a few of his friends and classmates would show up in the Extreme Cheapskates episode too
#buzz wingman#buzz wingman monster high#monster high#extreme cheapskates#bro would be trying to convince his friends that expired food is still good 💀
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summary: On a dreaded night out with Aegon to forget his past, Aemond finds himself thinking of a future with you.
pairing: Modern!Aemond x Stripper!Reader
word count: 2.2k
warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, brief mention of drugs, sex work, dry humping, lactation kink, slight mommy kink, handjob, cum play 18+ MDNI
note: Tbh, idk what urged me to write this, (it was the photo of Ewan on the couch with the leopard print carpet) but shout out to Aegon for being a good wingman 🫡 I have a part 2 planned but only if people are interested
Aemond Targaryen was never a fan of strip clubs. He viewed them as not only a waste of time, but a waste of money. Spending ungodly amounts on overpriced, watered down drinks. Just so some girl who pretended to be attracted to him, could dance on him for a couple of hours. He always left feeling impure while glitter and the scent of cotton candy body spray clung to his clothes. It just wasn’t his thing, he had better ways to spend his time. And yet, he found himself getting ready to go to one now, on a Tuesday night. With his heathen of a brother and his immature friends. What had become of him?
You’re on the opposite side of town, also getting ready for the evening. Hot steam and the scent of coconut invigorates your senses as you’ve just finished taking an ‘everything’ shower. You’re scrubbed to the bone, freshly exfoliated, shaved, and now lathering vanilla scented lotion onto your skin when your phone buzzes. Aegon Targaryen.
Aegon was your typical rich, spoiled, frat boy who frequented the club you worked at. Over the years he had become something more of a friend than a customer. He would sometimes bring you food, or weed, or a pack of cigarettes. He had even come to your defense when certain men would over step boundaries with you.
He was a good customer, gave a lot of money to the club – and to you. He wasn’t exactly your type but there was no denying he was attractive.
you workin tonight?
depends who’s asking 😈 jk … u know where to find me 💋
perfect. and not for me 😢 have a guy who needs a distraction. wear smth expensive!
oh? 👀🤨
money talks baby
yeah yeah 💸💦
It’s a rainy Tuesday night, you’re not sure why you agreed to pick up a shift in the first place. But you could use some extra cash, and your daughter is at her dad’s this week.
Even though the club you work at is one of the busiest in Kings Landing, you anticipate it to be an uneventful evening. Aegon coming in changes things, maybe you’ll have some sort of fun, and at the very least someone to talk to.
It’s just you and two other girls working tonight. There are three men sat around the stage as Floris dances, and Sara is occupied with a private dance in the back. As you predicted, a pretty slow night. You have the bartender make you a drink. You sit and tap on the glass waiting for some action when Aegon finally shows up.
He has a decent sized group of guys with him, most of which seem to already be under the influence. In order to not appear desperate you wait for Aegon to come to you.
“Lookin’ good, girl!” he calls, leaning in to hug you, “and you wore expensive perfume, that’s a good girl,” he flirts as he slides you a $50 bill, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him.
“Is this for… your friend?”
“Not a friend,” he states proudly, a devilish grin on his face, “my brother.”
You look past Aegon to the group of guys he sauntered in with, and then you spot him. A tall, lean guy with hair the same shade as Aegon’s; except his is much shorter, and styled neatly. He’s aimlessly scrolling his phone, barely looking around. You notice he has a pack of Marlboro Menthols in his hand. With a cool demeanor and a jawline chiseled to perfection by the Gods themselves, you are in for it.
He resembles Aegon for sure, though he is much more handsome.
“Gods, there’s two of you,” you groan jokingly.
“Actually, there’s four of us,” Aegon corrects, “but one’s sixteen and the other is a girl, our sister.”
Aegon hardly ever spoke of his family and when he did it was never in detail. All you knew was they were toxic, full of drama, lacking love, and filthy rich.
“Right. Well, what do I need to know about this one?”
“That’s Aemond. Go easy on him, will you? He’s a major nerd, hates all things fun, and the club isn’t really his scene — total opposite of me,” he notes, “but he’s been hung up on this older woman and I need him to get under someone else to get over her.”
You raise your eyebrows at him a second time, unsure of what you’re getting yourself into.
“What can I say? We’re a complicated bunch, but it’s nothing you can’t handle, right princess?”
You giggle at the pet name and he grins before he smacks you hard on the ass.
“Go get ‘em, tiger.”
You glance over in Aemond’s direction again, now he sips on an old fashioned, his grip tight on the glass while his expression remains unreadable.
You decide to head to the back to quickly freshen yourself up. You’ll need to mentally prepare yourself before sinking your paws into Aegon’s sexy-as-hell younger brother. You brush out your curls, pick away any dried mascara from below your eyelids and generously apply more perfume. Baccarat 540, it was expensive, thank you very much.
You take a large sip of your own drink before you saunter your way back out front and over to the table where he sits.
"Hey! You look like you could use a friend" you purr, “can I offer you a dance?"
Aemond looks over to Aegon who is giving him a thumbs up before looking at you. His eye scans your body.
"Um, yeah,” he finally responds, swallowing thickly, “yeah, you can.”
This time he smiles as he checks you out.
"You wanna go somewhere more private?" you offer in a whisper, motioning to one of the closed off rooms, "ya know away from prying eyes?"
"Sure," he replies and your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his wrist, dragging him to one of the rooms. Once you’re alone, tucked away behind the velvet curtain, he takes it upon himself to take a seat on the leather couch.
“So how does this work?" he questions nonchalantly, taking a large sip of his old fashioned.
“You’ve never gotten a private dance before?” you ask him and he shakes his head as he swallows.
“Oh, well, I’m flattered,” you giggle, taking a seat next to him, feeling him out.
“Well, while we’re in here,” you say as you place your palm on his leg, “I’m all yours,” you smile.
“All mine, huh?”
“That’s right,” you soon come realize that Aemond isn’t even sure what he wants. You take a large sip of your drink, finishing it off in one gulp.
You discard your empty glass and slowly straddle Aemond’s lap, refusing to break eye contact as you move your body to the rhythm of the song the booms through the speakers. Your palms glide over his lean chest, teasing and tantalizing as you continue to sway your hips. Aemond keeps a firm grip on the couch, his hands not leaving his sides. You reach down and take them in yours.
“You can touch me, you know. I promise you won’t break me,” you encourage, guiding his hands up your body.
His hands are cold as they run up and down your stomach, but they cause a fire to ignite inside of you. His touch is more gentle than what you’re used to. He uses his thumbs to swipe over the sheer fabric of your bra against your nipples. You gasp under his touch but he quickly removes his hands from you, yet you feel his cock grow harder underneath you.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, your hands flying to your breasts, instantly feeling two damp spots there. Fuck.
It’s something you know is inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. All of your regulars are already aware of your situation, but with someone new and unsuspecting, it’s an uncomfortable conversation. You’d found a lot of men are actually turned on by it, but there is always that chance that the current one won’t be.
“I – I’m so sorry. I don’t usually confide this, Aegon knows… but uh, I have a one year old who’s still breastfeeding.”
Aemond appears to be at a loss for words. You need to get up before he can reject you himself.
“Let me just—” He stares at you intently as you’re about to remove yourself from his lap. He is definitely caught off guard by your confession, but not in the negative way that you think.
“That’s no problem,” he says huskily as he composes himself, “you stay right here.”
His gaze is piercing as he keeps his hands firm on your hips, the cool metal of his rings digs into your flesh as he holds you in place in his lap.
“Alright, if you’re sure,” you mutter back to him, feeling relieved.
“Oh, I’m sure,” he tells you, the bulge in his pants evidently harder than it was earlier.
You study him carefully, there is a hunger in his eye that wasn’t there before, even moments ago. It’s as if his entire demeanor has changed. You figure you can use this to your advantage.
“I don’t usually do this, but I’m making an exception,” you tell him as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. You shimmy it off your shoulders and let it fall to the dirty floor.
“Because I’m Aegon’s brother?” he asks.
“No, because …. I want to.”
It was true, you didn’t normally get this intimate with customers, but something about Aemond was drawing you in.
Aemond’s eye widens as you reveal your glistening nipples to him. You squeeze at your breast lightly, grinding yourself into him, and he rewards you with a moan. your thumb around your nipple, gathering some of your milk onto it before rubbing it along Aemond’s lower lip. He eagerly accepts it into his mouth, sucking it harshly, nipping at your fingertip.
“You like that?”
“Mhm,” he groans against you, releasing your thumb before leaning forward into you. He smells good, expensive cologne and nicotine. His lips find their way to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. His fingers ghost down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arch into him, wanting more.
He continues to move at an agonizingly slow pace, taking his time with you as his lips make their way from your throat down to your chest. Your breath hitches once his tongue finally comes in contact with your nipple, lapping at the droplets of milk there. He takes your flesh into his mouth, gently suckling, careful not to apply too much pressure.
Your mind is going hazy as arousal leaks from your core, so you grind down harder on him, attempting to ease the ache between your legs.
Aemond continues to suckle at your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he drinks from you with ease. His eyes are closed, his mind completely lost to the sensation of you in his mouth. Your body trembles against him and he feels it, your small whimpers and moans urging him on.
He pulls away slowly, and you wince at the loss of contact. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses across your skin as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.
You lean back, positioning yourself so that you have access to the button of Aemond’s jeans.
“Can I?” you ask.
He nods his head eagerly, unbuttoning them for you and yanking the zipper down with quickness.
You slip your hand inside, beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrap your hand around his length, tugging gently as your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.
Your hand slides at a steady pace against his shaft, squeezing gently. His thick veins pulsing underneath your fingertips.
“Fuck, M-mommy,” he moans.
Your eyes widen at his choice of words but they stir something sinister inside you, and what Aegon told you earlier rings in the back of your mind: “he’s been hung up on this older woman.”
It all clicks.
You kiss him soft and slow for a moment before pulling away.
“You wanna be a good boy and cum for mommy baby?”
“Yes! I’m — I’m good,” he stutters, rutting himself up into your palm.
Your hand works quicker as he finds himself back at your chest. Drinking from you like a man starved.
A few more languid pumps of his cock and he’s trembling beneath you. Shooting thick, pearly ropes into your hand. You move your hand down lower to cup and squeeze at his balls for a moment before bringing it back up to your mouth, licking away the salty remnants as Aemond shoves his cock back into his pants.
As if right on schedule, the timer you set on your phone to keep track of the time goes off.
“Well, looks like our time’s up,” you say with a frown.
“Looks like it,” he replies and the air swells with tension.
You turn to leave, hoping to give him a moment to gain his composure and get himself together but he yanks at your wrist.
“Wait! Let me take you out!” he blurts out at you, “on a date, a real one. Please.”
You bring your hand up to wipe a smudge of your lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.
“This was paid for, ya know?” You say empathetically and his eye darkens. Great. You’ve offended him.
“I know that,” he says sternly, “It’s just, I want to take you out. Please. Just one date.”
“One date,” you repeat.
“Yes,” he assures, his good eye gleaming.
“Okay.”
Something else you don’t usually do, date customers. These Targaryen’s are giving you a run for your money.
You give Aemond your phone number and you let him add his to your phone.
“I will text you,” he promises before he goes to exit the room. You follow him out and watch as he makes his way back to Aegon who is bright eyed and clapping at his brother.
You make eye contact with Aegon and he mouths something to you that you are unable to decipher.
What have you gotten yourself into?
#aemond targaryen#aemond#ewan mitchell#modern!aemond#modern!hotd#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x you#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen smut#aemond smut#aemond x reader#aemond one eye#prince aemond#hotd smut#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen x y/n!#aemond targaryen one shot#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond imagine#house of the dragon smut#hotd#aemond x reader smut#modern aemond smut#modern!aemond targaryen
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Hey there! My first time asking/making a request lol, but I had two separate ideas and you can just pick one or something.
First was an alastor w/ fem reader, it's mating season for red and this ones diff bc he's had his eyes on reader or smthn for a min and decides this season he's going to do his best to show off to her, lmao like "look look, I can provide and protect!" a bit intense bc it's mating season, but reader is CLUELESS until at some point it finally clicks and she's all "huh.. ohh SHIT"
Second idea was one that I thought would be funny, like so.. lucifer finds out Al likes reader and even tho he doesn't really like Al he's like " don't worry, I can definitely help with this" but he's lowkey a terrible wingman even tho miraculously it somehow helps in the end???
Again you can choose from either and end it however you want, fluff/nsfw/sfw. Or if none of this is your cup of tea then just ignore me!!
Not me on a fluff binge hehehhehe
hope you guys like it! I’ve been a bit slow to write and upload but I’ve enjoyed reading every request! I’m still taking a slight break but I try to give y’all SOMETHING. Hope y’all don’t mind!!
Lots of love-jyoongim
——————————————————————————————-
Mating season.
Usually an awful time of year that made Alastor more on edge than usual.
But something was different this year…
This mating season, the deer demon wanted a partner….
Alastor had his sights on a pretty doe and he was going to ensure that she was going to be his for the season…
—————————————————————————
You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you greeted everyone as you took a seat for breakfast.
Pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. Eggs. Fruits.
Your stomach rumbled at the delicious smells.
”Fine hellish day isn’t my dear?” Alastor chirped as he piled food fruits and meats on your plate. You blinked at the amount of food on your plate.
”Al my stomach is only so big” you giggled causing the demon to hum as he took a seat beside you.
”A full belly makes a happy doe” he smiled as you happily ate the food.
Alastor watched as you ate, a soft purr rumbling in his chest.
”Why don’t we go for an outing dear?” Alastor suggested as you let out a burp.
You agreed.
It was rather chilly for Hell.
You and Alastor waltz around the city. You happily looked at the displays in many windows.
You didn’t know Alastor’s agenda but you didn’t mind accompanying him.
You must have lagged behind him a tad as a demon slithered up beside you as you looked over some jewelry.
”what’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” A deep voice asked causing you jumped, surprised.
”O-Oh hi um I’m just looking that’s all” you gave a nervous smile. Your skiddish nature took over as you took a step back. The demon advanced on you. He was big, could easily overtake you if need be.
”Why don’t I show you around? I don’t see a ring. I can show you a good time” sharp teeth smiled at you menacingly.
Your ears flattened, you might be small but you could defend yourself. You bared your teeth at the demon making him chuckle
”Now now little lady lets not get ugly”
You hadn’t realized he had backed you into a corner.
The demon pounced, making you screech as he pinned you to the wall.
Your ears perked as heavy static buzzed through the air. The demon didn’t seem to notice
“You’ll make a fine piece of ass”
Black smoke poured through the alleyway and static popped.
”That’s no way to talk to a lady”
Black tentacles dragged the demon and blood-curdling screams escaped the demon, but were quickly silenced as Alastor ripped him apart.
”mine mine mine” Alastor growled as he chomped on the demon.
You gagged as chunks of flesh flew around.
Satisfied that the distasteful demon was in his belly, Alastor looked towards you.
A large sharp claw traced your face, he was growling but his eyes were soft. He morphed to be a bit smaller and helped you up, his red eyes roaming over you.
”I’m okay Al” you reassured giving him a smile. He seemed to calm down and looped your arm with his.
”dishonorable filfth” he hissed as he made his way back to the hotel. You pouted you really wanted to buy something but you’ve had enough excitement for one day.
You looked at Alastor and tilted your head “Al your antlers”
The usual small antlers were now big and standing tall on top his head.
”Nice rack” you giggled making the red demon smirk, his chest puffing proudly.
”than-thank you for all that. I really appreciate Al” you said sheepishly.
The tall demon hummed
“Don’t mention it my dear. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”
——————————————————————————
Alastor had been lingering around you since the little accident. He had growled at anyone who got too close to you.
He was very possessive and protective of you, which you thought was sweet that the demon was worried about you.
You groaned as the sun peaked through your window. You sat up and you blinked in confusion.
Flowers, breakfast, and a tiny box.
Rest up little Doe ~Alastor
Your tail wagged in happiness. You don’t know why Alastor had been so attentive but you were eating it up.
You placed the flowers in a vase and began to eat breakfast.
Your face wrinkled as you pulled a piece of meat from your teeth.
what the fuck?
It was soft and fleshy. You shuddered but ate the rest of your breakfast. You opened the tiny box and keened when you saw the bracelet you had been looking at earlier in the week.
There were cute little radio themed charms.
You quickly cleaned up and went downstairs.
Charlie and Vaggie were sitting in the lobby chatting.
You smiled and waved, your bracelet caught Vaggie’s attention.
”Hey where you get that?” The question also caught Charlie’s attention, she immediately began gushing
”Oh my! Did Alastor get that for you? Omg so cute!”
Vaggie deadpanned “Alastor have been very cozy towards you what’s that about?”
You shrugged “I don’t know but it can’t be anything bad right?”
————————————————————————————-
“I see you got my gift” Alastor said, coming behind you as you red on the couch. You smiled “Its really nice Al but why the sudden gift giving?”
Alastor smiled “well my dear its mating season”
You blinked. Mating season? What did that have to do-
OH SHIT!
Your eyes widened “Y-You’ve been…”
His lips pulled into a genuine smile “Courting you? Why of course my dear!”
His hand circled the wrist with the bracelet. He brought it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.
Your body shuddered in delight and your ears flicked as he nipped at your fingers.
Your nose wrinkled at the smell of his pheromones, your tail wagging.
You let out a purr as you rubbed yourself against him and took off running, throwing a wink at him as he followed suit, giggling as he made a grab at your hips as you evaded him.
”Come and solidify your place Mr. Radio Demon” you teased slipping into his room.
A soft growl escaped Alastor as he followed you and had his shadow guard the door.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor the radio demon#alastor x y/n#alastor hazbin hotel#Alastor fluff#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel x you
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You knew? Part 2 of 3
Part 1
Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace
Chapter Summary: A week after Ace's near-fatal crash, she finally wakes up in the hospital, recovering from her injuries. Rooster, who has avoided seeing her since the email debacle, finally gathers the courage to visit her. Their conversation is tense and filled with unresolved emotions, as Ace confronts him about the betrayal she felt after discovering he was behind the anonymous flirtatious emails.
This chapter contains themes of emotional conflict, betrayal, and recovery from a near-death experience. Expect tense dialogue and unresolved emotions.
The sun cast a golden glow over the runway as the Daggers prepped for another intense day of training. Jets roared to life, ready to take off into the clear sky. The Dagger Squadron was assembled, but there was a noticeable shift in the air.
Ace, usually vibrant and at the centre of their group, had been distant for the past two months. Ever since the email incident, she’d cut ties with Rooster, Phoenix, not really Hangman as he was her wingman so she forgave him, steering clear of their usual hangouts at the Hard Deck and avoiding meals with the squad.
Now, she focused solely on her flying. Her interactions were brief, professional, and limited to the cockpit. As she strapped into her Dagger and prepared for the upcoming dogfight training, the silence between her and the rest of the squad was deafening. Today’s exercise was set: a mock dogfight in the air, with Ace flying solo against Coyote in his own Dagger, while Payback and Fanboy flew as a pair.
The jets ascended into the sky, climbing higher until the blue expanse stretched endlessly beneath them. The radio crackled with orders as they spread out, the simulated combat about to begin.
"All right, Ace, you’re up. Let’s see what you got," Coyote’s voice buzzed through the comms, a hint of competitive energy in his tone.
Ace’s eyes narrowed in concentration, her fingers gripping the controls as she scanned the sky for her opponents. She banked sharply to the left, cutting through the clouds as she trailed Coyote from above, attempting to line up her shot.
"You’ve gotta be quicker than that, Ace," Coyote taunted, pulling into a sharp climb to shake her off.
She smirked, pushing her Dagger to match his altitude, refusing to give him an inch. Behind them, Payback and Fanboy weaved through the air, keeping their distance while searching for an opening to strike.
The chase was fast and relentless. Ace and Coyote danced through the sky, trading sharp turns and evasive manoeuvres. The thrill of the hunt filled the airwaves, with each Dagger trying to gain the upper hand.
Then, without warning, Ace’s jet jolted.
"Warning: Engine failure. Malfunction detected," the voice in her cockpit announced in a cold, mechanical tone.
Her heart rate spiked as she checked her instruments. Something was wrong. The controls were sluggish, her jet unresponsive to her commands. She tried to stabilize, but the Dagger began to spiral out of control.
"Ace, what’s going on? You’re dropping altitude!" Coyote’s voice crackled over the radio.
She fought against the controls, panic clawing at her as the Dagger dipped into a sharp nosedive. The ground rushed toward her, but her body felt heavy, her vision blurring at the edges. She was slipping into G-LOC—G-force-induced loss of consciousness. Her breath became shallow, her body unable to react.
"Ace! You need to eject!" Payback’s voice boomed over the comms, urgency bleeding through the static.
But no one saw her eject. Her Dagger spiralled, falling faster as she lost the battle to stay conscious. On the ground, the entire squad was glued to the monitors, watching the terrifying descent. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, and the others stood frozen, their eyes trained on the screens, waiting for the tell-tale flash of her ejection.
But it never came.
"Come on, Ace… pull the damn handle!" Rooster muttered under his breath, his fingers white-knuckled around his headset.
"She’s not ejecting. Is she unconscious?" Phoenix asked, her voice tight with fear.
Coyote pulled his Dagger up beside Ace’s, trying to get a visual. But it was too late. Her jet continued to plummet, the altitude rapidly decreasing.
"Mayday, mayday!" Coyote called out, desperation lacing his voice as he watched helplessly.
From the ground, they saw her jet spiral down until it disappeared from the screen. Silence filled the control room, the team paralyzed with shock as the realization hit.
"Did she—" Hangman started, but his words were caught in his throat.
No one saw her eject.
Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, who had been up in the sky with her, were immediately recalled back to base. The radio buzzed with orders.
"Coyote, Fanboy, Payback—return to base. Now," the voice over the comms was firm, but there was no mistaking the urgency.
"Roger that," Coyote responded, his voice unusually sombre. He felt a weight pressing against his chest. None of them had seen Ace eject, and the sinking realization of what that might mean gnawed at him as he flew back.
The three Daggers touched down swiftly, their wheels skidding across the runway as they taxied to a stop. Before they could even unstrap from their jets, the rest of the squad came running, concern etched on their faces.
Rooster was the first to reach Coyote, grabbing his flight suit as he yanked him toward him, eyes wide with fear and questions. "Did you see her eject? Did she make it out?"
Coyote shook his head, face grim. "I didn’t see anything. I tried to get close, but she wasn’t responding. I couldn’t—"
Rooster let him go, stumbling back slightly as his mind raced. "No... no, no, no..." he muttered under his breath. Phoenix and Hangman rushed to Fanboy and Payback, their faces pale, voices rapid with questions.
"How low was she?" Phoenix asked, her voice trembling. "Did she even have time?"
"She was already in a nosedive when I saw her," Fanboy said, his hands shaking slightly. "It happened so fast."
Payback wiped his face with his gloved hand, trying to steady his breathing. "She didn’t respond to any of the comms. I don’t think she had time to eject."
Behind them, Maverick appeared, his expression stern and focused. He didn’t ask questions. Instead, he headed straight for the medical search plane, already prepared to take off. Without a word, he boarded, motioning for the search crew to follow.
"Let’s go. We need to find her," Maverick ordered, his voice commanding, though there was a heaviness to his tone that wasn’t missed by the others.
As the search and rescue plane lifted off, the remaining Daggers were left on the tarmac, standing in a tense, suffocating silence. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob all stood in a loose circle, watching the horizon, their minds racing with the possibility of what they might hear next.
Minutes passed like hours. No one said a word. The weight of what might have happened to Ace settled over them like a heavy blanket, each of them replaying her crash in their heads, trying to make sense of it.
Finally, the radio crackled.
"We’ve located her Dagger," a voice came through. "Wreckage is extensive... no sign of an ejection. We’re sending in the medics now."
Rooster clenched his fists, trying to hold himself together. Phoenix closed her eyes, a silent prayer forming in her mind. Hangman paced back and forth, unable to stand still, his face tight with worry.
Maverick’s voice came next, calmer, but tense. "We found her. She’s alive, but barely. She’s in bad shape. Get the medics ready at base—she’ll need immediate attention."
The relief was immediate but short-lived, crashing against the rising tide of panic. "Alive" didn’t mean safe. Rooster stepped closer to the comms, trying to catch every word, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table.
"Severe condition," Maverick continued. "Multiple injuries, possibly from G-LOC and impact. We’re stabilizing her now, but it’s critical. She needs to be flown out immediately."
Phoenix covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with tears she fought to hold back. Fanboy turned away, unable to face the others as the reality hit. Hangman stopped pacing, his fists clenching by his sides. The usually cocky pilot was quiet, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his posture was clear.
The medical team on base was already on standby, rushing toward the landing area as the search plane prepared to return. The remaining Daggers gathered near the runway, standing in a tight group, waiting for any sign of Ace. Each of them wrestled with their thoughts, guilt creeping into their minds—wondering if there was something they could have done, something they missed.
Minutes later, the medical search plane landed with Ace on board, strapped to a stretcher and surrounded by medics. They worked quickly, moving her onto a gurney as they rushed toward the base’s medical centre. Maverick followed closely behind, his jaw set, but the worry was clear in his eyes.
Rooster watched, his heart pounding in his chest. The brief glimpse he got of her was enough to make his stomach drop—she was pale, her body bruised and battered, a mask over her face supplying oxygen. It was clear she was hanging on by a thread.
"Is she going to make it?" Hangman asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.
No one had an answer. The squad stood in stunned silence, watching as their teammate, their friend, was whisked away to the medical wing, her fate uncertain.
Phoenix swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "She has to make it. She has to."
-
Ace was rushed through the hallways of the base’s medical centre, her stretcher surrounded by a flurry of medics shouting urgent commands. The sound of her ragged breathing through the oxygen mask was barely audible over the hurried footsteps. Her face was pale, her body still and battered from the G-LOC and subsequent crash. The medics moved with precision, wheeling her straight to the emergency trauma unit.
“We need to get her into surgery now!” one of the medics yelled, pushing open the doors to the operating theater.
The surgeons were already scrubbed in, awaiting her arrival. IV lines were attached, monitors were set up, and the sound of beeping machines filled the room. Her vital signs were weak, teetering on the edge of stability. The head surgeon quickly assessed her injuries, noting the signs of severe trauma from both the high G-force and the crash impact.
"She’s got multiple fractures, possible internal bleeding, and signs of severe G-LOC trauma," the surgeon announced, as they began prepping for surgery.
The doors to the operating room swung shut, and the medics filed out, leaving Ace in the hands of the surgical team.
-
In the Hallway
Outside, the Dagger Squad sat in the waiting area, the tension suffocating. None of them had said much since Ace was wheeled away. Rooster leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground as if trying to make sense of the last few hours. His mind was racing with worry and guilt. He’d been tough on Ace, both in the air and on the ground, and now she was fighting for her life.
Phoenix sat next to him, her foot tapping nervously against the floor, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She couldn’t shake the image of Ace’s jet spiralling out of control, nor the sight of her pale, motionless body when she was brought in. "Come on, Ace," she whispered under her breath.
Hangman paced the length of the hallway, his usual bravado completely absent. His jaw was clenched, fists balled tightly at his sides. He’d been the one who set up the whole email situation, thinking it was just some harmless fun. Even though she forgave him, they still weren't back to normal. Now, guilt gnawed at him with every step he took.
"She’s tough. She’ll pull through," Hangman muttered to himself, but it sounded more like a prayer than a statement of confidence.
Coyote sat further down the row, staring blankly at the door leading to the operating room. He replayed the training flight in his head, going over every detail, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent the crash.
Fanboy and Payback sat together, whispering to each other every now and then, though their voices were low and full of worry. Bob, the quietest of the group, sat against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his face a mix of worry and helplessness.
The minutes dragged on. Every time a nurse or doctor walked through the hall, the squad straightened, hoping for an update, but the news never came. The tension was thick in the air, each of them lost in their own thoughts, consumed by fear for their friend.
Maverick entered the hallway, his face a grim mask of calm. He had been overseeing the rescue efforts, but now that Ace was in surgery, there was nothing more he could do but wait. He exchanged a few silent nods with the group before sitting beside Rooster.
“How is she?” Rooster asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“They’re doing everything they can,” Maverick replied, his tone steady but strained. He knew better than anyone how critical the situation was, but he didn’t want to add to their already overwhelming fears.
Hours seemed to pass as they sat in silence, the only sounds in the hallway being the occasional shuffle of footsteps or the distant hum of medical equipment. No one knew what to say, and the weight of uncertainty hung heavily over them all.
Every so often, one of them would glance toward the operating room doors, hoping to see a doctor emerge with good news. But the doors remained shut, and the tension in the room grew thicker with each passing second.
Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. The squad all turned toward the noise, holding their breath. A nurse approached, her expression neutral, but the look in her eyes was serious.
“The surgery’s still ongoing,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “It’s going to be a long one. She’s stable for now, but it’s critical. The doctors are doing everything they can.”
“Stable,” Phoenix repeated, the word a fragile lifeline she clung to. “That’s something.”
The nurse nodded. “It is. But it’s still touch and go. We’ll keep you updated.”
The squad nodded in unison, though the news wasn’t as reassuring as they’d hoped. The wait continued, with everyone’s minds now filled with images of Ace in the operating room, fighting for her life.
Each of them sat, stood, or paced, trying to pass the time, but every second felt like an eternity as they waited for any sign that Ace would be okay.
----
One Week Later
The sterile scent of the hospital room lingered in the air, blending with the steady beeping of the machines that monitored Ace’s vitals. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. Ace lay in the bed, her body still aching from the injuries she’d sustained, but she was finally awake. Her head throbbed faintly, and her muscles felt weak, but she was conscious—and alive.
It had been a week since the crash. A week of surgeries, recovery, and slowly regaining her strength. The Dagger Squad had visited her throughout the week, offering support and well-wishes, but Rooster hadn’t shown up once.
She wasn’t surprised. After the email situation, their relationship had soured more than ever. The betrayal she’d felt after realizing it was Rooster on the other end of those flirtatious emails still stung, even more so after the crash. She had expected him to stay away.
As she stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, the door creaked open. She looked over, and her eyes widened slightly as Rooster stepped inside, his expression uncertain.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice a little rough, like he had rehearsed what he was going to say a thousand times but still wasn’t sure how to begin.
Ace tensed slightly but didn’t say anything right away. Her eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and something else—resentment, maybe—but she masked it quickly, keeping her face neutral.
Rooster took a few hesitant steps toward the chair by her bed. He looked uncomfortable, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his flight suit as he stood awkwardly by the door, unsure if he should sit or not.
“I—uh, I thought I should come by,” he continued, finally deciding to sit down. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar nervous gesture she had seen countless times before, but now it felt different. “It’s been... a lot.”
Ace raised an eyebrow, though the movement sent a dull ache through her head. “A lot,” she repeated, her voice flat.
Rooster winced at her tone but didn’t back down. “I know I should’ve come sooner. I just—didn’t know what to say after everything. After what happened with the emails and then... this,” he gestured vaguely toward her, indicating her injuries.
Ace remained silent, her eyes focused on him but her face giving nothing away. She wasn’t ready to make this easy for him, not after everything that had happened between them.
He sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know I screwed up with the whole email thing. I didn’t mean for it to... go the way it did, I didn't know it was you at the start either. It was supposed to be some dumb fun, but it hurt you, and I’m sorry.”
Ace’s jaw tightened, her mind flashing back to the moment she had discovered Rooster was the one behind the anonymous emails. The betrayal still felt fresh, even after weeks of avoiding him.
“You have no idea,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “You have no idea how much that messed with my head, Bradley.”
Rooster flinched at the use of his first name, a sign of how serious things had gotten. She almost never called him that. “I know. I get that now.”
“No,” Ace interrupted, her voice stronger now, though strained from disuse. “You don’t get it. You thought it was a game. I thought... I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t that. You led me on, Rooster. And for what? A joke? Some sick competition?”
Rooster looked down at his hands, guilt written all over his face. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just got out of hand.”
Ace clenched her fists beneath the hospital blanket, frustration bubbling up inside her. She had spent weeks—months—trying to figure out why she had been so blindsided by him. It wasn’t just the betrayal, it was everything leading up to it—the animosity, the tension, the constant bickering. And then, suddenly, the emails had made her think there was something different, something more.
“Out of hand?” she echoed, her voice bitter. “You humiliated me.”
Rooster’s gaze shot up, his expression pained. “I didn’t mean to.”
Ace exhaled sharply, leaning back against the pillows, exhausted from the conversation but too frustrated to stop. “And then you didn’t even come to see me. Not once. I almost died, Rooster.”
He looked like he had been punched. “I know. I was... I didn’t think you’d want to see me. After everything.”
“That’s your excuse?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “I’ve been lying here, dealing with all of this, and you just couldn’t be bothered to show up because you were afraid?”
Rooster opened his mouth to respond but stopped, realizing there was nothing he could say that would make it right. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, and he couldn’t fix the way he’d hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice raw. “For everything. For not coming sooner. For the emails. For being an idiot.”
The room was thick with tension, the air heavy between them. Ace watched him, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She didn’t know if she could forgive him—not yet, maybe not ever—but part of her was too tired to keep fighting.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Rooster added, his voice almost a whisper. He looked at her with genuine concern, the guilt and regret clear in his eyes.
Ace didn’t respond right away. Instead, she closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know what to say to you right now, Rooster.”
He nodded, standing up slowly. “I get it. I won’t push you. But I’m here if you ever want to talk. I mean it.”
Ace opened her eyes, watching him as he moved toward the door. He hesitated for a moment before glancing back at her. “Take care of yourself, Ace.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts, the weight of their conversation settling heavily on her shoulders.
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#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction
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Whiskey Lips
Human!Alastor x Reader
2.2K Words
Summary: Or the time you kissed your friend at a concert.
Tags: Modern AU, Second Person POV, Drunk Kisses, Unrequited Love (or is it?)
The loud blare of the music threatened to burst your eardrums but the buzz of the alcohol had long kicked in, slowly muffling the sound. The next band came up, a little known indie group with a couple of popular songs but after three similar bands this evening, you were tired and just ready to chill out in a corner on some overpriced booze. Some guy even started flirting with you, buying you a drink so he could try to charm you with his blue eyes and wispy blonde hair.
Not exactly your type but cute enough. Too bad your friend Alastor had to ruin it.
“You suck as a wingman, you know that? You end up chasing away the guys cuz you’re too pretty.” You stood at the end of the bar, watching the blond weave through the crowd and disappear.
“Darling, if seeing a prettier man makes him run away, then he isn’t worth your time.” Leaning on the newly vacated spot next to you, Alastor smirked, a light chuckle playing on that grin as he too watched the bodies pushing against each other to see the band. You didn’t blame them. The sound quality was terrible. There hadn’t been a single song who’s lyrics you actually understood.
“He’s worth about $24 in drinks, so maybe 5 minutes of my time.” Blondie had bought you enough coke and whiskey that he turned from a 5 to a 6 in your eyes. Maybe a 7 if you finished this drink. As you tilted the cup to swallow the last of the bittersweet cocktail, a large hand blocked the rim.
“I think you’ve had plenty to drink if you think this is worth the risk of STDs and a handsy little humping.” Taking the glass in his pretty tapered fingers, he drank what was left.
“Maybe that’s what I was looking for?” You didn't really know what to expect when your neighbor turned friend had barged into your apartment earlier this evening and demanded you go out with him. Out of sheer boredom, the prospect of spending way too much money to listen to some unknown artists had been enticing enough. Though the first gust of cold wind almost had you turning back around, Alastor determinedly dragged you to the city and that was how you ended up here. Bored of the bands, sick of the bodies that kept pushing around you and now, you didn’t even have the prospect of going home with a cutie for the evening to make this excursion worth it.
“Oh, do forgive me for looking out for my drunk little friend then.” The sarcastic tilt of his smile turned more amused at your pouting. It would have been annoying if those lips didn’t shine with the remnants of your drink. Pretty privilege at its finest right there. You huffed.
“Seriously, Al. Why bring me out if you’re gonna cockblock me every time?”
“I just think you can do better than that guy, sweetheart.” Moving closer so he didn’t have to semi-yell every word, his voice dropped to his placating croon that he knew always worked on you.
“Hnnngh.” His smooth talk would have been nice, who didn’t like a compliment, after all? But it’s been years since anyone tried to hit on you and the attention was nice, especially since the guy had been pretty attractive. You gave your friend a side eye. Even in the dark, flashing pink and purple lights, couldn’t hide the occasional highlight of a sharp jawline or his tall slender frame. “You wouldn’t know. You have to fight off people from flirting with you.”
Alastor was a solid 8 on a normal day with his curly dark hair and sharp features softened by big expressive eyes and a smile that could sell toothpaste. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. Today, he was a 10, wearing a black wool suit jacket paired down with light blue jeans and a black v-neck shirt. With the multiple piercings in his ears, tussled brown locks and the eternally impish smile he had on, he attracted looks left, right and center.
“So you’re pent up, is that it?” He had the audacity to laugh. Prick. He strutted around looking like he did but never gave even an inkling of interest in anything sexual or romantic. Instead, he found amusement in hearing your failed romantic escapades and all the emotional toils people around him had for a problem he’d never experience.
“…” This close, you could smell the whiskey on his breath and the cologne he wore. Even that combination smelled sexy. He could bottle it up and sell it as incense the way it put you in a trance for just a second. You squinted at him. The room started to spin and he had that insufferable smirk on his face as his eyes looked down on you. Without thinking about it, you grabbed him, pulling him with enough force to bring his tall ass to your level so you could plant a kiss on his annoying lips. Your alcohol-addled mind thought it was a brilliant pay back for the opportunity he spoiled. Just a little kiss to wipe that stupid smile off his face.
The sweet taste of Coca Cola and whiskey made for an intoxicating mix along with the soft plumpness of his lips. So soft and a little cold. Your tongue darted out to taste them without a second thought. He pushed back against your onslaught, lips more incessantly against you as something warm and a little slimy licked your lips in retaliation…and he was kissing back? HE WAS KISSING YOU BACK!? You stepped back in surprise, not expecting your intimacy-repulsed friend to do that, only to feel a warm hand at your waist keeping you in place.
“I’ll take that as your answer.” His voice took on a husky timber, the kind he used when he whispered mischief and snide comments in your ears when Karen from down the hall put up another complaint on the apartment’s group page. “Now, why don’t I help you, my darling?”
His smirk was shinier as he swooped back down and drowned you in the taste of whiskey and coke.
He pressed you against the poster-covered walls of the dingy concert venue, uncaring of the many other attendees pushing through the tight space, the yells to ‘get a room’, the envious stares. Even with the occasional shove against his back, he was careful not to crush you unless it was with his mouth. And his tongue. The garbled blares of the pop-punk band were garbled by the sounds of your heartbeat and the soft groans the brunette let out and your lips slotted against each other, tongues exploring, teeth nipping. And oh my god, the world was hot and spinning and all you saw were pretty honey eyes fogged in the same daze you were under, drunk on impulsive lust and…alcohol.
Drunk?
All your senses seemed to come back to you then. Where you were, who you were with and why this was a bad idea. You pulled away and those honey eyes quirked with confusion, lips seeking to slot against yours again but you turned your cheek. “We—“ You had to clear your throat as those pretty lips made a light trail on the column of your neck that was left exposed to his gaze. “We shouldn’t…be kissing while drunk.” You shouldn’t have been kissing in general.
“What? Never kissed your friends before while a little intoxicated? I thought that’s what you girls do.” Sensing your rejection, he let up, leaning his forehead against yours while his lips teasingly hovered over your own. Even though he remained so close to you, breath still brushing against your face, the turn of the mood was immediate, coming back to the usual banter as Alastor’s momentary interest evaporated, though the smile on his lips remained shiny.
“You shouldn’t hold Katy Perry up as your model female.”
He chuckled then and released you from the cage of his arms. You hadn’t noticed until they left how his hand had been pulling you closer through the waistband of your jeans. And now you felt cold, as he was so quick to pull away.
But as the presence of him around you lessened, you knew you made the right choice. Your heart was hammering in your chest, face flushed not just with the warmth of alcohol, but he looked like he couldn’t care less, easily slipping back to the teasing jerk he’d been before the little stunt you pulled. Ouch. It didn’t even take a couple of seconds for him to look uninterested.
To hide your disappointment, you stretched your neck, pretending to loosen your muscles with a nonchalant grin. It was only then that you noticed the sticky feeling of sweat on your back and your boobs, the temperature too hot within the room just from the sheer amount of packed bodies. And even hotter after what Alastor and you just did.
“Fuck it’s hot in here. I’ll go step outside for some air real quick.”
And he let you go, moving back to the bar to get a drink as he waved you off with a pinch to your cheek.
When the chilly night air finally had a chance to cool your overheated face, it chased away some of the lightheaded buzz. Fuck. What were you thinking, kissing your friend? Drunk kissing your hot as fuck friend? If it were any other guy, you would have been thrilled to make out with him, have a fun night and see where the morning went. But this was Alastor. A drunk Alastor.
Your stepdad always said that two idiots made an accident and you two were very much too drunk for any decisions you made to be smart. It took over two years to build your friendship with him. The man was easily bored, snarky and a little mean but neighborly politeness turned to camaraderie against your HOA which turned into actual friendship. One of the few you had as an adult. You couldn’t afford to ruin things between you two, not for feelings that you shouldn’t have had in the first place.
It didn’t take long before more and more people started leaving. You checked your phone. When had it gotten so late?
“Feeling better?” The smooth tone of his voice floated through the crowded area and you gave a drunken little nod, a sense of accomplishment and happiness bubbling up at yourself from preventing a disaster.
The bus ride home to the apartment complex was relatively normal, thank god. Except for how giddy you two were from drinking, it was like the kiss never happened. As easily erased as any semblance of interest he may have had with you but the sting of that faded the more dumb jokes this yapper of a man kept spouting.
Even the quiet elevator ride in the claustrophobically small one your building had didn’t seem too bad. Just two drunk friends staring off into the not so far wall. Like this, you could pretend nothing happened, pretend you blacked some part of tonight out and go on without introducing awkward unrequited feelings into the mix.
Alastor, as well as you two got along, was way out of your league. You glanced to the side where he leaned across the supporting bar on the elevator wall. Even just standing there, he exuded a mysterious grace that the bleak lighting of the old elevator couldn’t wash out. Pretty, witty and charming. You were lucky to be his friend. You were lucky he took that kiss in stride.
Maybe you could laugh about it with him some day. Probably tomorrow, if he ever brought it up.
The elevator dinged, signaling his stop and the best time for you to put down any musings about what-ifs and all that. Whatever devil possessed the man to kiss you back wouldn’t be there when the alcohol was gone and his general disinterest in relationships and intimacy returned.
“Good night!!” You chirped as he walked out with his signature grin and a two-fingered salute. As the elevator door closed, you let go of the small disappointments within your heart, closing the box on your unrequited feelings before they ruined everything for you. Already, serenity seemed to come over you as you made peace with your stupid mistake for the evening. You’ll apologize too if he ends up mad at you in the morning.
*Thump*
A sound caught your lazy attention as a hand stuck through the almost closed gap of the doors, forcing them to open again as Alastor’s figure squeezed through.
You didn’t get a chance to even ask why before broad palms cupped your cheeks and honey eyes locked on your own, his smile gone into a serious line. Shit. Did his common sense kick in already? Was he mad?
“You said, no kissing while drunk, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Then I’m very sober, sweetheart.”
For a second time that evening, you found yourself pressed between a wall and Alastor’s lips.
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x you#hazbin hotel fanfiction#ao3 writer#drunk kisses are my bread and butter
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Completely platonic wingman bonding with Ice and Mav slumped together on a couch, totally buzzed...
Iceman: Slider's wrong, you're not afraid of commitment. You have a right to have an ideal. Oh, I guess we all have one.
Maverick: What does yours look like?
Iceman: He's a little short guy with a pilots license.
Maverick: *ears perk up like a dog*
Maverick: Why short?
Iceman: What does it matter in a cockpit? It's so he'll look up to me. So I'll be his ideal.
Maverick: That's a funny kind of reason.
Maverick: Wait, "He?"
Iceman: *Sits Up, Sober and Aware* I...
Maverick: *Staring at his lips* *Goes for the kiss*
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SUMMARY: You find a love letter for you but the wrong guy; Hitoshi regrets only signing with his initials. A/N: The author wrote this sleep deprived, dehydrated, in the dark and completely running on an adrenaline rush so please excuse the sloppy work... WARNINGS: Minor IzuOcha, probably OOC Shinsou
“Stop denying it, Ochaco-chan! We can all see Midoriya lo-o-o-o-oves you!”
You giggled, using the books you were clutching as a shield from Ochaco’s attempt at slapping a hand over your mouth. She gave up and hid her red face instead. “We’re just friends!”
“But I saw you so jealous that day, are you sure about that?” You hum slyly, bumping her shoulder. The both of you stop in front of your locker, a quick stop before heading back to class. The hallways were buzzing with chatter about the recent UA sports festival, but you were more interested in what you had seen that day.
“Huh? When?!”
You haphazardly shoved your books into your locker then tapped a finger against your chin, playing dumb and pretending to think. “I dunno, maybe when Hatsume from the support course and Midoriya were talking? I’m sure he thinks her ‘babies’ are cute!”
“Wait, really?” Ochaco groaned, momentarily forgetting her denying before her eyes widened. “I mean, not that I care! Her babies - I mean her inventions are pretty creative!”
“But I’m sure Midoriya thinks you’re cuter~” You teased, using your hip to close your locker door, gleefully watching your friend blush and stutter. “But if you both ever get together, I’m your wingman, alright? He doesn’t look like he could hold your hand without having a panic attack, but if he does anything wrong no one will ever find his-”
“Eh, enough!” Ochaco just about yelled, this time successfully slapping a hand over your mouth. “It’s not like that! It’s - oh, you dropped something. Let me pick it up for you!”
“Huh? A paper - oh, wait, no, it’s an envelope?” Your name was written in neat handwriting at the back, leaving no doubt to you and Ochaco that this was for you, but at the same time you don’t remember ever seeing such a thing in your life.
“A letter? Who could it be from?” Ochaco leaned over your shoulder to read as you slipped a slightly crumpled note out.
I think you’re one of the prettiest girls at UA - the prettiest, really, with an amazing personality and talent to match. I’ve liked you since the first day, but watching you at the sports festival really sealed the deal. You’re practically on my mind all the time and just seeing you is enough to make my day - I could stare you forever and never get bored with what I see. Every time we pass by I really want talk to you, but I’m not really sure how to confess, so I hope this note will do.
-H.S.
“A LOVE LETTER? Oh my gosh, it’s so cute and romantic! You’re so lucky!” Ochaco began to shake your shoulders eagerly. “Who could it be from? Our class or 1B?”
“I have no idea, what do you think?” Your finger brushed over the oddly sweet words, your heart thumping a little faster. Judging by the heat in your cheeks you must be blushing too. “H.S….I wonder who could that be?”
“Not a lot of people have those initials,” Ochaco pointed out. “There isn’t a lot of people with names starting with H either.”
“I guess that narrows it down to…” You scrunched up your forehead, deep in thought. “I know there’s Hiryu from 1B, but then it should be H.R. instead of S. No one else in 1B.”
“Huh, then it must be from our class!” Ochaco exclaimed. You both turned to look at each other at once, the same idea ringing in your heads . “There’s only one H there too!”
“Hanta Sero?!”
***
In retrospect perhaps that note was terribly written and - he winced - cringey.
Serve Hitoshi right for writing it at 2 a.m. in the morning, sleep deprived, dehydrated, in the dark and completely running on nothing but an adrenaline rush. The same rush he’d get every time he’d spot you in the hallways that would create just a little smile on his deadpan expression.
Hitoshi wouldn’t be surprised if you completely laughed off the note, but he couldn’t help but hope for some other kind of reaction - the kind where you’d get excited and figure out it was him; Hitoshi knew you wouldn’t just fall in love like that but at least he’d get a shot at friendship. When he’d been writing the note and being delusional he’d imagine you’d liked him all this time as well.
But being realistic he knew the best he could hope for was simply a brief interest in the letter’s writer before a polite rejection.
Maybe Hitoshi shouldn’t have signed it like that.
Actually, a bunch of maybe-I-shouldn’t-haves were running through his head so loudly Hitoshi would’ve thought somebody was brainwashing him as he spied on you and Ochaco from a little way off. It was wrong and very creepy, Hitoshi was painfully aware, but the urgent need to just know what your reaction was to his stupid confession was.
Who even confesses through a love letter these days? It was just lame and he didn’t even write it properly. God, he really should have grown a pair, manned up and spoken to you directly-
Something in him melted, probably his heart, into a mushy puddle of lovesickness as Hitoshi watched you giggle quietly reading it, a pink tinge rising. You were always so cute. Even if you rejected the writer just seeing that look would’ve been worth it.
Then you cracked his confidence in half and just about gave him a heart attack.
“Hanta Sero?!”
No, it’s me, Hitoshi nearly shouted. I’m the one who wrote the letter, I’m the one who wants you to know that, I’m the one who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars up in the sky, the one who’s the biggest fan of you and the one who’s your biggest supporter during the sports festival.
And I’m the one falling onto the ground because my legs are jelly and I can’t believe you don’t know me after all and you’re going to go like someone else and I just caused that, Hitoshi wanted to add. Oh god they had the wrong H.S. and his own anxiety wouldn’t let him tell them otherwise.
Hitoshi really shouldn’t have signed it like that.
***
You walked out of the cafe, happy that your date with Sero had gone well but still disappointed.
Not in him, obviously. He had been pretty flattered when someone like you had asked somebody like him out to lunch, as Sero had put it, and in turn you were to that he would think like that. Your time together had passed with nonstop banter and laughter and you could happily call him a friend now, but the both of you had kind of agreed that while you had chemistry it wasn’t the romantic kind. There wasn’t that click.
Also he had been pretty confused when you had alluded to the note, dropping hints that eventually led you to realize he had zero idea of what you were talking about, so embarrassing as it was (hey, the writer meant it for only your eyes, right?…alright, so what if you didn’t want to share this private little sweetness?) you pulled out the letter and handed it to him.
“It’s pretty romantic but I didn’t write that. H.S. sounds familiar though - I mean, not because it’s my initials! I think I remember someone with those initials.”
“You’re not, like, offended I only asked you out because of the note, are you?” You had asked worriedly. That sounded horribly shallow and you were internally panicking everyone would get the wrong idea.
Thankfully Sero laughed it off. “Hey, I’d do the same! I hope you’re not too upset it’s just old me?”
“Of course not!”
So it ended on good terms, even with probably no plans for continuation. Sero’s last words still echoed in your head however, making you walk with your head up in the clouds of deep thought and speculation. “I’ll ask around if anyone knows a H.S. - I think they’re either from the support course or general studies.” You were pretty sure you don’t know anyone from those classes though…
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Embarrassment had you blustering apologies to the poor indigo-haired guy you had just walked into and knocked his coffee cup out of his hand, spilling it all over the sidewalk “I’m sorry, I didn’t see where I was going!”
“It’s fine, calm down,” he said reassuringly, although his drink was anything but. You breathed a sigh of relief that at least it hadn’t made a huge mess on his clothes. “It was an accident anyway.”
“No, but I spilled your coffee-” The same sign on the fallen cup and the one above the shop’s window caught your eye and you brightened. “Hey, how about I buy you another one instead? As an apology. I might as well buy one myself if it’s good.”
His eyebrows rose. “Sounds alright to me.”
“Great!” You followed him back into the coffee store and made a beeline to the counter, placing your order and waited for him to choose his. Much to your surprise he gave your name to the barista when asked - had you met him before or something?
The corner of his mouth turned up slightly when he spotted your confused face as you paid. “You’re from UA’s heroes course, right? I go there too, in the general studies course.”
“Wait, you do? What a coincidence!” Your eyes widened as you beamed. “But hey, it’s not fair that you know my name and I don’t know yours!”
“Shinsou,” he offered.
You repeated it. “Suits you.”
“Yours too.” Shinsou took a sip of his drink as he and you walked out of the store. “So, tell me, what’s got you so distracted that you had to make me drop my first coffee?”
“I already made up for that!” You protested to his teasing tone, but then you awkwardly laughed wondering how to explain your thoughts. “Just got back from a date.”
“Oh?” You didn’t see Shinsou’s eye twitch at the mention of that, but he kept his tone casual. “Did it go south or something?”
“No, it’s just - uh, he just wasn’t who I thought it was.” You winced. That didn’t sound right and didn’t even make sense. “I mean I got a confession by note a while ago and I thought it was from him, but it turns out it wasn’t, so I really have no idea now. And maybe I am a little bummed it didn’t go like I thought it would. ”
Shinsou hummed in reply. “That must suck. So you really want to know who wrote the note?”
“Yeah, he was pretty sweet about it.” The shade of pink on your cheeks were threatening to deepen, so you willed yourself to stop thinking about it. Yet something about Shinsou’s friendliness just made you trust him, like him already.
It didn’t help he was also pretty good looking. “I dunno, I’ve just never met a guy who thought so high of me and it was really flattering and nice and all.”
“I see…tell you what.” Shinsou wasn’t really smiling but something in his eye sparkled with excitement. “If you’re up to it, I think this coffee would go well with some cake - and I know a good place.”
You stopped short, blinking while your brain processed his words. You began to giggle; Shinsou was pretty to look at and had an easygoing manner you liked, but you wanted to return his teasing prod from earlier. “Are you asking me out? And why should I say yes? I did just spill your coffee on our first meeting.”
“Well.” Shinsou was a little way ahead of you but stopped and glanced back with a half-smile. “My name’s Hitoshi Shinsou.”
“Oh my god.”
So of course you went on the date with him and he was just as sweet as the dessert.
#Sunny's Works#hitoshi shinsou x y/n#hitoshi shinsou x reader#hitoshi shinsou x you#mha x reader#shinsou x reader#shinsou x you#shinsou x y/n
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Playbook - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You never thought your dad would be your wingman (based on THIS request)
Warnings: vague descriptions to keep this as open as possible
Word Count: 3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Again, doesn't follow everything to a T but the overall theme is there!
The Hawkeyes were in for a treat when Coach told them they would have a special guest in practice. It was never disclosed who would be the special guest but the team was buzzing with ideas of who it could be in the two weeks leading up to their arrival. They were naming everyone under the sun, from WNBA players to NBA players - even highly regarded coaches. Sky was the limit when it came to who the special guest could be.
This wasn't the first time the coaching staff at Iowa had used their connections to bring in some big-name athlete or coach to rain them for a day or a week. It was something they had started Caitlin's sophomore year and had happened a few times since. It became a season tradition even if her coaches wouldn't say it was. She has been coached by Candace Parker and Lisa Leslie. They even got Steven Kerr of the Golden State Warriors to Iowa for a week during which the guys team joined them for practices. It was a crazy week but one of Caitlin's most memorable (there was something about outshooting some of the guys that Caitlin would never forget).
So when the day rolled around for the appearance, the team knew it was another big name when the guy's team pulled up for the second time in a row. Coach Bluder walked up and greeted their coach as the men's team came over.
"Any ideas of who it is this year?" One of the guys asks Kate and she just shrugs.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Kate responds.
Caitlin has a love-hate relationship with the men's team, and by love-hate it is more of a major indifference towards them. It had all stemmed from her dating the coach's son, who also happened to be on the team at the time. The relationship consumed her whole junior year, only coming to an end when he graduated. It wasn't mutual at the time and it took Caitlin a while to get over it but nevertheless, she did. The guys that are still currently on the team naturally had to choose their former teammates' side but if you were to pull them aside one by one and ask their opinion, each of them would say Cait didn't deserve what had happened. Kate would know because that is exactly what she did.
All of the athletes are told to sit down in the first few rows of the bleachers. Once everyone is seated, the doors open to the gym and none other than last year's NBA MVP walks in. Every single head turns and the murmurs begin. Most of the teams sit there with their jaws dropped.
Caitlin leans over and begins to shake Kate's arm.
The coaches introduce the guest and before they all know it, they are on the floor running drills. Typically there is a divide between the men's team and the women's team but that went out the window when the guest took the liberty to group everyone to his liking.
They are only a half hour in and both teams are dying.
You are at the hotel, reading when you get a call from your dad. It wasn't one you were expecting considering you knew his schedule was packed.
"Hey dad," you say refusing to put your book down.
"Hey baby girl, do you see my playbook anywhere?" He asks.
Your head tears away from your book as you look around the room. You get to the desk where your dad was working last night and see the book sitting on the desk.
"It's right where you left it," you say getting up from the bed and grabbing it. "Do you need me to bring it by?"
"That would be great, I'll send Jeff to swing by and grab you. If you don't mind hanging out, we can go out to dinner when I am done here," he says knowing the only thing on your agenda for the day was reading.
"Sure, sounds good," you say and begin packing your bag. "I'll see you in a few."
You hang up and grab your book alongside your dad's. Jeff is there in no time. He has the front desk call up to your room and you are on your way. Jeff has been your dad's driver for about 10 years now. He was more than a driver in your eyes and would often go out of his way to make sure you were taken care of. Whenever your family would travel, Jeff would join. Neither you nor your dad would have it any other way.
"Jeffery," you say and give him a nod. He says your full name back to you, eliciting a smile.
The school your dad was coaching at was only a 15-minute drive. When you arrive you make your way into the gym and begin the search for your dad. Once you find the court, you walk into a group of sweaty athletes all looking like they just played a full game but you know it was just your dad's footwork clinic.
You make your way up to him as he is watching the next group go through his course. Standing a few feet back, you watch as a group struggles to get every step. Your dad tells them to break and you make your way to him as the athletes grab water.
"Here you are, one playbook," you say and tap his shoulder with it.
"Ahhh, thank you, baby," he says and takes it.
"I am starting to think you leave this on purpose, what is this like the third time you have had me come to a practice?" You say tasing your old man.
He shrugs. "Isn't it better getting out of the hotel room?"
"And into a gym?" You counter.
"Hey, I just want to spend more time with you," he says and you roll your eyes. You know he is missing with you but grab your book and take a seat.
What you didn't know was the amount of eyes that followed you. Since you walked through the door there had been at least 4 sets of eyes that followed your every movement, one of them being Caitlin's.
"If you stare any harder, you'll burn holes through the girl," Kate says.
Caitlin doesn't care. She knew that your dad had a daughter but all the pictures that she had seen were from when you were a kid. She had no idea you had grown up.
"Caitlin," Kate says, waving her hand in front of Caitlin's face. "Earth to Caitlin."
"She's beautiful," Caitlin says as she watches you take a seat and pull out a book.
"Well get in line," Kate says and nods her head over to about 3 other groups of guys all looking your direction. Caitlin feels her heart deflate at the sight and throws herself back into the drills.
The teams are now going through shooting drills and you can't help but look over and watch. Your eyes are drawn to one of your favorite college players.
You don't know why it didn't occur to you that you would see her considering you were at her school. You just didn't put two and two together but glad you glanced up. Your book falls to your lap as your eyes are now glued to the shooting drill. You have been watching Caitlin for the last year now and have been mesmerized by her game..
Practice comes to an end, sooner than you would like to admit, but are thankful considering your stomach decided to become vocal about its emptiness. You walked down to where your dad was on the floor and waited a few feet away but close enough to make your presence known.
"Ya, we will be at your upcoming game this weekend," your dad says and nods over to you. He parts ways with the players and makes his way to you.
"Ready?" He asks and you nod.
The two of you head to dinner. The following few days, your dad continues to head to the team's practices and you hear all about them. You were really looking forward to going to the women's game and even got yourself a jersey to wear.
You head to Hawkeye-Carver with your dad and take your seats court-side. Cameras find your dad immediately and you ignore their presence. The teams head out and are warming up for the last time before starters are announced and the game begins.
You watch intently and cheer for the starters, the jersey you're wearing supporting the starting guard.
As the teams go to greet each other right before tip-off, Kate pulls Caitlin.
"Looks like somebody is a fan," Kate whispers to Caitlin. Caitlin's eyes follow where Kate is looking and sees you sitting courtside. It takes her a second to get a closer look but when she does she notices the number 22 on the front of the jersey you are wearing.
A stupid smile finds its way to Caitlin's face and Kate elbows the girl.
"Don't mess this up," Kate jokes and Caitlin pushes her.
The game tips off and Caitlin is on fire. She is flirting with a triple-double by half-time. It has made for a very fun game to watch. The second half continues the same way as Caitlin gets her triple-double in the third quarter. By the end of the fourth, there was no question that the win was going to the Hawkeyes.
A handful of the team makes their way to talk to your dad while you look for the star of the game. You see her walk over and make your way towards her.
"Hi," you say with a sweet smile, which is returned.
"Hi," Caitlin says, doing everything in her power to not expose her nervousness.
"You played great," you say and you swear you see a little blush creep its way to Caitlin's cheeks. "Would you sign my jersey?"
Caitlin nods and you pass her a Sharpie.
She begins signing the back of the jersey you are wearing when you speak again.
"You have very pretty eyes," you say as you feel her writing on the back of you.
"Ya?" Caitlin asks and begins to feel pretty good about herself.
"Ya, couldn't help but notice them with how much you have been staring at me," you say causing Caitlin to mess up her signature.
Her whole face turns red as you make it known that you have caught her not-so-subtle glances and at the fact that she has now messed up the jersey you are wearing.
Caitlin stutters and doesn't know what to do. The panic in her wants her to flee but that would just add to her embarrassment. Cait doesn't get embarrassed easily but here you are making her feel like a fool.
You turn back around to face her and when she looks into your eyes she begins to feel grounded again.
"I owe you a jersey," she says with a shy smile. You give her a questioning look. Caitlin has two options, come up with some elaborate lie and try to convince you that you moved causing her to mess up or she could tell you the truth. She chose the latter not wanting the foundation of your meeting to build on a lie.
"Your comment about my staring took me off guard and I may have messed up my signature," she says quietly but her eyes don't leave yours. If you thought she had pretty eyes, yours were stunning. She could look into them forever.
You give her a smile and are pleased with the effect you have on the superstar.
"It's now one of a kind," you say turning an embarrassing moment for Caitlin into one that she will never forget. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
"I feel bad," Caitlin says. "Let me make it up to you."
"And how do you plan on doing that?" You ask, taking a little step closer to her. It was getting hard to hear with everyone else around you.
"Well, how long are you in town for?" She asks.
"We leave on Sunday," you say, today currently being Friday.
"I can show you around the city tomorrow, how does that sound?" Caitlin asks, hoping you don't already have plans.
"Hmmm, I'll have to think about it," you say in a teasing tone. Caitlin's smile drops a little. You give her shoulder a little nudge. "I'm just messing with your C, I would love to see the city with you."
Her smile returns but falls shortly after when she hears your next remark.
"You'll just have to ask my dad," you say and you can see all the color drain from her face. You know you were just messing with the girl but knew her intentions were pure when Caitlin walked straight up to your dad and started a conversation. You could tell when Cait finally worked up the courage to ask him, he looked over at you, making quick eye contact and you gave him a little nod. He looks at you a little longer, longer than he had with anyone previously. There is a glint in his eye that you haven't seen before and you give him a confused look. He leans over to Caitlin and says something only she can hear, prompting her to respond. They both smile at one another and you release the breath you didn't realize you were holding. Caitlin walks back up to you with a smile you would look at forever.
"I'll pick you up at 10," she says, bringing her arm around you for a hug. She holds you longer than either of you expect but neither of you is complaining. When she finally lets you go, you lean up and give her a little peck on the cheek and head towards your dad.
Weeks passed and the team noticed a shift in their teammate's mood. Kate was the first to notice and noticed it almost immediately when it happened. It took Caitlin a whole 5 minutes after she got back from spending the day with you before telling Kate everything. So it comes as no surprise when the team brings up Caitlin's shift.
"Someone has been chipper these last few weeks," Jada says to Caitlin.
Caitlin tries to hide the shy smile and shrugs.
"Ya, it's almost as if there is something...or someone who has impacted your mood," Kate says, in no way being discrete.
Caitlin stares hard at her best friend.
"Ya CC, you have been on your phone more than usual," Gabby says wiggling her eyebrows.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, I am just looking forward to the week we have off," Caitlin says dismissively and continues on with practice. She liked having you all to herself considering neither of you have officially labeled what you are. The two of you coined it as getting to know each other.
After Caitlin showed you around her college town, you were headed back home with your dad. Ever since you had left, you had been messaging or Facetiming Cait nonstop, not that she would have it any other way.
It got to the point where you invited her to your family's trip to Cancun for spring break which she gladly said yes to. She was only able to go a few days but it was better than nothing.
The two of you spent every second of the trip together as she got to know your family. They all loved her, especially your dad.
The trip comes to an end faster than either of you want it to and before you know it you are back at the airport dropping her off to head back to Iowa.
The second Caitlin lands, her phone is blowing up - more so than usual. She looks through the notifications to see about a hundred or so are from the team's group chat. Opening the messages, she realizes that the cat is out of the bag and they know she was with you and your family on vacation. They all go off on her, in the sweetest way.
Caitlin opened the photo she was tagged in on your story only to realize it was a photo your dad posted. She swipes through them, landing on the group photo that was taken at dinner one night. She can't help but smile at the photo. Caitlin was sitting with you on her lap, her arms wrapped around your waist while you held a plate of food. Little does the world know that the plate of food was hers and you were tasked with feeding her since you didn't want to leave her lap.
Never in a million years would Cait have imagined herself vacationing on the beautiful beaches of Cancun with her favorite NBA player, let alone falling in love with his daughter. But there she was, smiling like a fool while looking at the photos from her time with you and her heart settled. It rested in knowing that you held it. Unlike her past relationships that seemed to always spark anxiety, yours was one that brought her peace.
She opens her messages, bypassing the team chat, and taps on your name. She types out a quick message about landing safe and sends it your way. As she makes her way back to her apartment, she doesn't feel the ache in her chest that she felt when she had to let you go in the airport or when her plane took off knowing she was leaving you behind. She is filled with the peace of her settled heart, knowing that wherever the two of you are - you belong to one another.
AN: Ugh, the thought of a tropical vacation with our favorite girl is mind-consuming right now. Let me know what you think and if I am alone in that thought. And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍
#caitlin clark#caitlin clark concepts#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark imagine#caitlin clark masterlist
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Where'd You Learn That? Tsu'tey x Female! Human Reader
word count: 2.9k
Pairing: Tsu'tey x Female! Human! Reader Tags/Warnings: R18 - minors DNI, smut, p eating, tongue action, established relationship, fluff, romance, alcohol consumption, slightly inebriated reader, wingman Jake
Author's Notes: For this prompt! Dedicated to @mechformers, thank you for my first Tsu'tey fic inspiration! Apologies for any grammatical errors, I hope you enjoy!
The scent of spiced meat and sugared fruit tickles your nose. You are thankful for the implants in your nasal cavity and lungs, letting you freely enjoy the Pandoran air and all it’s wonderful smells.
Spirits are high as the clan celebrates well into the night. A bonfire roars at its centre; Humans and Na’vi gather all around in song and dance. Drinks flow freely among the crowd.
You take an experimental sniff of your cups contents. The smell reminds you of elderberries, and cinnamon, with an undertone of something sugary. Throwing caution to the wind, you take sizeable sip.
It does not taste as it smells; but is delicious all the same.
One cup turns to two.
Another.
Then another.
You close your eyes.
A blanket of warmth wraps around you as your body moves to the rhythmic beat of drums. A gentle buzz tickles the back of your mind.
You make lazy patterns with your arms, swinging your hips side to side as you let the music guide your movements.
The hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end.
Suddenly, you get the distinct feeling that you are being watched.
You open your eyes, searching the crowd for your would-be observer.
A golden gaze snaps your head in place, stilling your movements. The world around you fades to the back of your mind. Your focus attuned to him alone.
The Olo'eyktan, noble warrior and esteemed Clan Leader, is devouring you with his intense stare. Tsu’tey tilts his head to the side, leaning back in his seat as he openly ogles you.
There is movement in your peripheral. Stealing a glance, you spot Jake and Neytiri giggling and whispering among themselves; their own eyes darting between Tsu’tey and yourself. When Jake catches your eye, he rolls his eyes and nods his head toward Tsu’tey, then starts gyrating on the spot as he makes eye-contact with you once more. Neytiri hold a hand to her mouth as she stifles a laugh, swatting him playfully on the arm.
The message is loud and clear, and you pull your eyes away, back to the object of your affection, doing your best to keep your face as neutral as possible.
The look on Tsu’tey’s face sends a shiver crawling up your spine. There is a familiar dark wanting hidden in those amber pools, and in this moment, you have never felt more desired. Arousal thrums from your core when he flashes you a cocky smile; the hint of his fangs glistening in the deep colours cast by fire.
Your liquid courage from before fuels your next move.
Eyes half lidden, you bite your lip and place your hands to your sides. Your hips sway in time with the beat as you drag your fingers up, teasing the swells of your breasts, and up to trace the sides of your face.
Your hands slowly make smooth patterns in the air, before coming down to glide over your chest. There’s no real technique to your fluidity; you simply let the music guide you, letting the sensuality of your movements speak for you.
Even as you do the occasional spin, his eyes never leave you. With your focus set only to the man honed in on you, unfortunately, you fail to notice the staggering body of a Na’vi man about to collide with you.
The drunk warrior spills his entire drink all over your front. The spicy smelling liquid soaks through your shirt, causing it to stick to your skin.
Before you can blink or even register what has happened, large hands are immediately on you, steadying you against a warm body. A hiss, an exchange of heated words. None too soon are you suddenly hoisted into the air.
Your word spins, causing an uncontrollable giggle to come bubbling forth.
---
“Here. Eat.” Tsu’tey’s voice commands, and you feel something wet press against your lips. You take the slimly object into your mouth without hesitation, chewing it slowly.
“Eurgh! That’s so bitter!” You complain as you swallow it with some difficulty. Tsu’tey let’s out a quiet amused huff.
“Bare it. It will help clear the mind.”
He is, of course, right. The world suddenly snaps into focus once more. You take stock of your surroundings.
The two of you are alone, somewhere in the forest. Night still blankets Pandora; the forest sings in quiet tones, effervescent colours dancing in your vision.
You sit at the edge of a heated spring, your feet idly dangling in the warm water. Long blue legs cage you in from either side, and you realise you’re sitting in Tsu’tey’s lap space, leaning against his front.
The memory of your attempted sexy dancing, the disaster sticking to your skin, and now your current seating arrangement, causes you to blush.
And you blush hard, covering your face with your hands.
Tsu’tey chuckles behind you, his voice vibrating in his strong chest, reverberating in your bones.
“Why so shy, [Y/N]? Where did all that confidence go, my little txeptsyì?”
“Tsu’teeey…” You whine, pouting as you look up to him. He takes your hands from your face, his large thumbs gently stroking your palms.
“Where did you learn that dance?”
“Uhhh…Nowhere in particular…I just, wanted to dance for you…The music, the alcohol…your eyes on me…Just felt right is all. Urgh, probably didn’t look sexy at all—”
Tsu’tey ponders the not so familiar word for a moment, trying to recall its meaning.
“The dance…It is meant to entice? Physically?”
“Y-yeah. Sure, let’s put it like that.”
“…Is that what you want, [Y/N]?”
You wordlessly nod. It has been something you craved for a while. Up until now, the two of you spoke only in honeyed words, fleeting touches and chaste kisses. But your body had needs, and the primal desire to become one with your beloved only grew as time passed.
“You are very small, ma tawtute. I could hurt you…” His apprehension shows on his face, ears slightly pinned back.
“I will not break so easily.” The determination in your voice clearly stirs something within him, as evident on his face.
Tsu’tey understands all too well what you want. He had fought with himself when he had first developed feelings for you. But you had burst through the walls he built around his heart, reigniting feelings he thought once lost to him.
And here you were again, fighting against his fear of harming you. It wasn’t the intimacy that scared him, he had long since resigned to the path his heart took, all in stride of course. His biggest fear, was hurting the one he cared most for.
But by the Grace of Eywa, he wanted you as his mate. You were in all sense but physical, already his mate. And there was no doubt in his mind of your intentions. He could smell it. And this wasn’t the first time either.
“Okay.”
You blink at him a few times.
“Wha—really?”
He moves himself into the pool. He stands in front of you, the water coming up passed his waist. He plants his arms on either side of you, boxing you in.
“Yes. You doubt my words?”
“No! No I—” He pulls you up into a heated kiss before you can waste your breath on further words. He holds you gently, careful not to exert too much strength. You melt in his arms, your body already feeling mailable thanks to your slight inebriated state.
When he pulls away, he swipes the thin line of saliva left by his retreat. He tugs at the hem of your top.
“Fì’u’aku.”
You do so without hesitation, hastily throwing the soaked garment aside along with your pants.
Tsu’tey hums appreciatively as you lay bare before him, clad only in your smalls. His eyes roam over your body. From the red flushness of your face, to the swell of your breasts, down does his gaze travel; admiring the smoothness of your skin, the softness of your flesh.
His fingers drag along your sticky skin, worshipping every inch he touches. You marvel at the size of him; his hand covers the whole of your chest. If he wanted, he could crush you with a single squeeze. Slick coats your walls at the mere thought of his strength.
“Hmm. You are, sticky. Tsk. That skxáwng should have watched where he was going.” He leans down, sniffing at the nape of your neck, before giving you a purposeful lick.
You let out a surprised yelp at the contact, the warm thick muscle taking you by surprise.
“W—wait! Shouldn’t I clean myself off first? In the water?”
“Kehe. I will do it for you.”
“With what?”
“Ftxì oeyä.”
The blush on your face deepens at the prospect of him licking you clean. But you don’t object. In fact, the idea excites you all the more. Tsu’tey takes your silence as permission to continue.
He starts at your navel, slowly dragging his tongue up in a straight line, up between your breasts and along your clavicle. He let’s out a low pleasured hum at the back of his throat as he swallows your taste on his tongue.
His mouth is on you again, greedily licking every inch of your skin.
You let out a soft moan when he glides his tongue over your nipples; the sound making his ears flick forward. He does it again, earning himself another delightful moan to fall from your lips.
He smirks as he continues to lick you clean.
Once he is satisfied, you lay there covered in a sheen of his saliva, nipples hard from the cool air. You don’t feel sticky anymore. But you do feel the wetness of your loins.
Tsu’tey gives you a quizzical look, studying you.
“Hm.”
“W-what is it?” You stammer, painfully aroused, but still shy under this intense stare.
“It would seem, I am not yet finished.”
“Huh?...Where could you have possibly missed? I’m practically drenched, heh.” You let out a chuff at your own double entendre. What you don’t anticipate, is the down right lustful knowing smirk he gives you right back.
“Right…here.”
He drags a single finger up your clothed cunt, sending a sudden jolt of pleasure shooting through you.
You inhale sharply at the sudden contact, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to rub you through your panties, soaking them even further in your arousal.
Gently and with purpose, he slowly removes the undergarment, chucking it somewhere near your discarded top.
Feeling shy, you try close your legs. But you are no match for him, and he holds you in place; a hand pressed to either leg, keeping you spread wide open.
“Voìk si.” He commands, and you obey, all to eager for him to just touch you already.
Tsu’tey adjusts in the water, lowering himself to the space between your thighs. He starts kissing the inside of your leg, planting languid kisses as he moves closer to your apex.
He breathes deep of your scent, pupils dilating from your tantalizing smell. When he finally presses a kiss to your folds, you can’t help but sigh in relief. He kisses you again, the pressure of his large mouth against your sex flaming the fires of your arousal. The promise of pleasured release slowly starts to build.
He gives you an experimental lick, marveling at the primal taste you leave on his tongue. He spreads you further apart using his thumbs.
His tongue returns to you, licking away at the soft flesh of your pussy in long strokes. His ears perk at the undignified sound you make when he brushes over your sensitive bud.
Your mouth agape, formed into an ‘o’ as you squirm with pleasure. You squeeze your eyes shut.
His tongue is thick, large and oh so deviously wet against your folds. He presses his tongue flat against your cunt, roughly rubbing against your clit in meaningful strokes.
“Hmmm~! Just like that…” The honeyed tone of your voice is music to his ears. He wonders what other wonderful sounds you can give him. He uses one had to remove himself of his tweng, languidly stroking himself underwater as he continues worshipping your pussy with his mouth.
He licks and sucks at your folds, each ministration pulling you closer and closer to promised release. But it is not enough. Although he enjoys the soft moans and sharp intakes of breath you do, what he really wants, is for you to scream.
Both of his hands are suddenly cupping your ass cheeks, lifting you off the ground. You eyes snap open, widening in shock. He throws your legs over his shoulders, pushing himself forward, lifting you higher. Your core aches as you strain to keep balance on just your arms and upper back; your lower half practically vertical.
He wraps one hand around your waist, holding you still in a tight grip.
He’s on you once more, lavishing your sex in heated licks and gulps. The evidence of your arousal coats the entirety of his mouth, practically dripping down his chin. And he can’t get enough of it.
You hold each other’s stare; gaze unwavering.
Without warning, he presses his tongue to your entrance, plunging his warm tongue right into your welcoming hole.
The sudden stretch is a titillating burn, a burst of pleasure springing forth. Your walls mold around his tongue as he plunges the appendage in and out of you. He uses the thumb of his free hand to toy with your bud.
“F—fuck! Tsu’tey! YES!!!” You don’t break eye contact as your fingers dig into the ground below you as the coil tightens deep in your core. What started clumsily, soon turns ravenous as he fucks you with his tongue. At this downward angle, each plunge of his tongue into your pussy causes him to lick the spongy flesh just right.
Your release draws ever nearer, and you wish you could reciprocate in some way. Tearing your gaze away, you then notice his kuru hanging over his shoulder, resting within reach.
You take this tip in hand, gently squeezing to coax out his tendrils. He watches wide-eyed as you bring them to your face. You let the ends invade your mouth, teasing them with your tongue in a wet slobbering dance. It tingles.
You watch as Tsu’tey’s pupil’s dilate, eyes rolling back before he squeezes them shut. A low growl, perhaps moan, rubbles from deep in his chest and up his throat. The vibration courses through your walls and clit. The grip on your waist tightens, and he engulfs your entire pussy with his mouth. He sucks as hard as he can while rubbing his tongue against that knowing spot deep within your core.
You all but shatter. You scream, uncaring, as the coil snaps, pushing you over the edge.
Your orgasm bursts forth, and he drinks deep of the juices flowing into his mouth. Your legs squeeze tight in an effort to keep his head in place. He helps you ride out your orgasm to the fullest, licking your clit continuously. You remove the tendrils of his kuru from your mouth, desperately trying to speak when the feeling becomes too intense.
“S—stop…It’sss too muuuchh…” You slur your words, pleading. He yields, pulling his mouth away. He slowly licks his lips clean, letting out a low approving moan as he swallows.
“Ftxìlor.” He says, wiping his mouth with his thumb.
If you weren’t already burning, you’d blush at the sight of his mouth shimmering with your juices smeared all over his jaw.
Gently he lowers you back down, letting you rest on your back once more. He washes away your slick with the spring’s water.
Once done, he moves to lean over you, careful to hold himself up so as to not crush you under him. His hand comes to cup the side of your face, eyes searching.
“You are, alright?” He asks, and there is a hint of uncertainty to his voice.
“Alright??” You let out a huff, almost offended by the question.
“I am more than alright. I feel fucking fantastic…That was, amazing. Where did you even learn that?”
He gives you a cheeky grin, self-assured and brimming with pride.
“No where in particular. The sounds you made. The taste of you. It just, felt right.” Cheeky bastard was using your own words against you. You don’t mind though, and let out a soft giggle, placing your hand over his.
He leans closer, kissing you softly. You faintly taste yourself on his skin. You lick his lips teasingly, and feel him smile. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against yours.
“[Y/N]. Nga yawne lu oer.”
No matter how many times you hear it, you still get butterflies in your stomach. What a wonderful feeling.
“I love you too, my Mighty Warrior.”
He kisses you again, more passionate than before. His mouth moves against yours hungrily, yearning. You get the distinct feeling he’s ready. And by Eywa’s will do you feel ready as well.
When next he pulls away, you can see the desire burning in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
“Ma Tsu’tey…I’m ready.”
“Yawne…”
You press a kiss to his nose.
“Let me feel all of you, my love. Join with me, before Eywa. Become truly mine…”
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine; nothing like the cheeky smirks or prideful grins.
He stands up, taking you by the legs and pulling your cunt flush with his pelvis. You look forward, and eyes widen at the sheer size of his hardened cock now nestled between your legs.
Your eyes dart from his face to his member a few times. You peer up at him, eyes pleading.
You needed that thing inside you right the fuck now.
“Now, [Y/N]…” You bite your lip as you watch him take himself in hand, lining up with your entrance.
“Rikx rä’ä.”
You scream in ecstasy with the first thrust.
---
Glossary: txeptsyì - flame tawtute - human Fì’u’aku - remove this skxáwng - moron fnu - be quiet kehe - no ftxì oeyä - my tongue voìk si - behave ftxìlor - delicious Nga yawne lu oer - I love you yawne - beloved Rikx rä’a - don't move
---
Tags: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww @grimistangel @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ducks118 @graysonmalik2550 @p9scal @ohshititsfenharel @ourmurdermessiah @cocoaflare @sarcasticrandy @liyahsocorro @olivia-the-weirdo @dyingofcookies
#tsutey x reader#tsu'tey x reader#tsutey smut#tsu'tey smut#tsu'tey fluff#human reader#female reader#afab reader#reader insert#avatar smut#avatar fanfiction#tsu'tey x human reader#tsutey x human reader#tsu'tey x human smut#tsutey x human smut#Spotify
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beautiful - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
summary - growing up as bradley's best friend and ride or die, then going to college and suddenly realizing it's more than that
warnings - don't think so
word count - 1.8k, just a cute little guy
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you couldn't remember a time that you weren't with bradley bradshaw. you had grown up by his side, from kindergarten to now sophomore year of college, you had been his wingman. and he was yours.
you had the same friend group, all of whom dated each other, which left you and bradley to do your own thing which was fine. everyone expected y'all to get together eventually, but when freshman year came to a close they all lost that hope.
until now.
it was well known by your friends that harrison ralph was the biggest douchebag UVA had ever seen. bradley knew that, carlie knew that, georgie knew that, and so did beckham and lara. but you, well, let's just call you optimistic.
harrison had approached you at a frat party a few weeks into the senior year, catching your attention quickly with some pretty words and an even prettier smile. with his arm leaned against the wall behind you, he was getting close, and bradley was getting pissed.
"y/n!" he called with an exaggerated smile, reaching forward and grabbing your hand. harrison leaned away, eying bradley as if trying to size him up. georgie laughed at the scene, knowing that 5'10", 160lbs harrison stood no chance against 6'3", 200lbs bradley bradshaw, even though his attitude sure made up for some of it.
"bradshaw," harrison hummed. "what do we owe the pleasure?"
bradley didn't look at the boy, instead directing his attention to you. "lara and carlie want to go get food."
it wasn't an invitation, nor was it a question of whether or not the two of you would be attending. you were going to leave with him or he wasn't leaving you.
"are they drunk?" you asked. when bradley nodded his head, you sighed. "where's the nearest arby's?"
"you're not seriously leaving, are you?" harrison asked, grabbing your arm as you stepped towards bradley.
"sorry, i've gotta take care of some friends. i'll see you around," you said with a polite smile, letting bradley pull you away. harrison reached forward, grabbing your other hand with a firm grasp.
"text me, ok? i'll wait up for you," he said, winking quickly.
"well, don't," was bradley's sharp response. he dragged you back to the group who had already left to get in their cars. a text buzzed on your phone in your back pocket as you pulled the door open to bradley's bronco, and as you fished it out to read the text, your brows knitted closely together.
"lara said she's going back to beckham's," you said loud enough for bradley to hear on the other side of the truck. "and georgie's dropping carlie off at the dorm."
so you hadn't seen the boys dragging their girlfriends off with smirks and winks thrown in bradley's direction? probably a good thing.
"let's just go home then," bradley shrugged as he climbed into the driver's seat.
"well, maybe i can go back-"
"let's go home," he said again, slowly with his eyebrows knitted. "you don't need to see that harrison douchebag."
"well, i don't wanna go back to the dorm to carlie and georgie banging again," you sighed, hopping into your usual passenger seat and shutting the door next to you. "i think a third round of bleach will officially ruin my eyesight."
"just come back to my place," he shrugged, turning the truck on and beginning to pull out of the small space he'd managed to parallel park into earlier that evening.
you didn't answer immediately, instead staring down at your shut off phone.
"do you think harrison meant what he did?"
"what?" he asked quickly, glancing over at you as he continued to drive down the backroads of charlottesville to his apartment.
"i mean... guys like him don't look at girls like me like he did. and they certainly don't tell them they're waiting up for their text."
"sweetheart, i think he's waiting up for something else," bradley told you with a sigh. "and he meant it. he damn sure meant it."
"are you sure?"
"he seemed pretty interested. dunno why he wouldn't be."
"i don't know why he would be."
"what are you on about?" he asked, glancing at you again as he pulled into his apartment parking lot. it was dark, only lit by two streetlamps on complete opposite sides of each other, and you could barely see the walkway into the complex. not that it mattered - you both knew the place like the back of your hand. he parked as you sighed, leaning back in your seat.
"guys aren't interested in me. ever. it's just unbelievable."
"except it's entirely believable. do you know how many guys i've seen check you out over the years? for starters, before they met carlie and lara, georgie and beckham were obsessed with you."
"no they weren't," you laughed, shaking your head.
"they were, i swear!" he said, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched you smile too. "they were sixteen year old boys with functioning eyes, of course they were obsessed with a beautiful girl like you."
"i may be pretty cute now, but i definitely wasn't a looker then," you laughed, recalling the awkward stage of high school.
"oh trust me, you were and still are insanely beautiful, sweetheart. nearly every guy on the football team asked me to give them your number and they always wanted to know if you'd been asked to homecoming or prom or whatever yet."
"they asked you for my number and you didn't give it to them?" you asked with a dramatic gasp and wide eyes.
"oh hell no! you were mine and mine alone, i definitely wasn't willing to share you with the meatheads that were the bedford high football team."
"i was yours?" you asked curiously, turning completely to face him with a smirk pulling at one side of your mouth.
"my best friend, i mean," he corrected quickly, grinning your way.
"mhmm, we'll go with that for now," you hummed, laughing as he looked at you incredulously.
"what is that supposed to mean?"
"but moving on - why didn't you tell me all of this before? because i've been convinced that i like always have something in my teeth or something the way some of these guys look at me, because it's not flattering and doesn't seem anywhere near that they'd wanna kiss me."
"darlin', they're staring lower than your teeth and they're hoping for more than just a kiss, let me tell you that," bradley informed you with a frown. "guys are prudes and jackasses and that's why i never told you. ain't any of 'em that i thought were good enough for you."
"is that why you dragged me out of that party?" you asked. he furrowed his brows, but you just smiled and laughed. "i know the girls didn't wanna get food, you just needed an excuse to pull me away from harrison ralph."
"that's cause he's also a douche," he nodded. "ain't no way in hell you're spending a night with him."
"but he's a cute douche," you sighed, laying over on the middle seat between you and bradley dramatically. "i haven't been on a date in months, brad. it's like suddenly every single guy in virginia has gone off girls."
"it's because they're intimidated," he answered softly, messing with the splayed out ends of your hair as you looked up at him. "you're beautiful, crazy smart, naturally talented at everything you do, super ambitious and driven - they know you're out of their league."
"i wish they'd just try. i feel like they've all given up on me or something." you sounded defeated, because you were. bradley hated to hear it, leaning back in his seat as you grabbed his hand, messing with his callouses as he worked up the courage to say what was on his mind.
apparently, he took too long and you were sitting up and sliding out of the car. he followed quickly, locking the bronco and coming to your side as you pulled a hand through your hair, the other arm crossed over your chest and the other quick to join it.
"what's going on?" he asked. "what is this really about?"
you continued walking, your eyes on bradley's door just down the outdoor hall as you sighed. "i got into flight school today."
"what? that's awesome, congratulations," he told you with a smile.
"yeah, well, i'm not even gonna go, so it's all pointless," you said, lips a straight line and a small crease between your brows slowly forming.
"why? what's wrong, why can't you go?" he asked.
"my mom was pissed enough as is that i came here and if she learns that i'm graduating just to not come home and instead go to flight school - she's gonna flip, she's not gonna let me go."
"what do you mean? you're an adult, y/n, she doesn't get to tell you what to do anymore."
"no, but she can guilt me into going into business with her. she's got the bakery and she needs me to run the business side of it. it's why i got my marketing degree-"
"you got your marketing degree because you needed something to do while figuring out what you really want. and you want to fly. we've talked about being in the navy for years together, frankly i was surprised you said you were going to college even before my papers got pulled."
"well, mom needed help and-"
"and she can hire some. you get to choose what to do with your life, y/n," he told you. "you're like, this crazy brilliant girl who's been surrounded with people who tell you that you can't do anything your whole life and they just need to get out of your head; your mom, teachers, idiot guys, all of 'em."
"that's hard," you laughed dryly.
"well, let me tell you this then," he said as you came to a stop in front of his door. "you are amazing, y/n. in every way possible and there's not enough words to describe it. and-" he hyped himself up, taking a quick breath "-i haven't given up on you. you're everything to me."
you were smiling, like big, and that was all the clearance bradley needed to lean in and press his lips to yours. even though you were a little surprised, you kiss him back, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. he pulled away after several moments, breathing deeply and looking down at you with a smile.
"you're everything to me too," you mumbled, returning his smile. he kissed you again, shorter this time, and softer too.
"i'm really, really glad to hear that," he said.
you felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you reluctantly unwinded yourself from the boy in front of you, pulling your phone out to read the text.
hey beautiful, can i come over??
"i'd rather i be the only one to call you beautiful, beautiful," bradley said after reading it upside down. you clicked on the contact, scrolling down and clicking the red 'block contact' text. it disappeared from the screen and you grinned up at him.
"i think i'd be okay with that."
#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradsaw x reader#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#top gun maverick#miles teller x y/n#miles teller x reader#miles teller
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*From Draculaura’s horoscope.
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Witch Tip: Getting Started With Planetary Magic
Note: This is, as always, my personal experience of studying astrology and working with the planets for twenty-five years. There's some UPG in there. Your results may vary. My paradigm is based on creating relationships with the planets rather than demanding they obey your commands. This is what I mean by work with: begin the process of forging a relationship.
If you are looking for a place to start with planetary magic, work with the traditional planetary ruler of your Sun, Moon, or Ascendant - whichever of the three feels right.
They are as follows: Aries - Mars, Taurus - Venus, Gemini - Mercury, Cancer - the Moon, Leo - the Sun, Virgo - Mercury, Libra - Venus, Scorpio - Mars, Sagittarius - Jupiter, Capricorn - Saturn, Aquarius - Saturn, and Pisces - Jupiter.
If you are under the age of 30, I would steer you away from working with Saturn to start with and if you are under 25, I would steer you away from Jupiter as well. (as intermediary planets they require a bit of life experience to fully actualize)
The Sun and the Moon can be looked at a bit like parents. Most of the time, they like you and want to support your life and successes. Sometimes they can be bossy or naggy and they definitely will always think they know better than you.
Venus and Mars are like your besties, or sometimes, your siblings. They can be your wingman when you need them and will definitely beat somebody up if they've been bullying you. They may not always agree with you, but most times you can convince them to your side.
Mercury is a capricious bitch. They will play tricks on anyone, including you. They are endlessly convinceable so just be reasonable and you will probably get what you want (though sometimes in a roundabout way).
Jupiter doesn't have an inside voice. Thankfully, they tend to want the best for everybody. That includes people you don't like, though. You may have a problem with moderation if you work with Jupiter too often, some people like it that way.
Saturn is a buzzkill. Some buzzes need to be killed. Working with Saturn too much can lead you straight into depression. But if you need to stop something, get a handle on a situation, or just slow the fuck down, this is your slightly Scary Uncle. Intimidation x10.
Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto don't care because they don't have dominion over our everyday lives. And that's okay, they control the inevitability of change (Uranus), death (Pluto), and the Unknowable (Neptune). They can't be convinced because we cannot control the inevitability of change, death, and the unknowable. They happen to us - all we can do is accept it or (very occasionally) get out of the way.
Do you like my work? You can support me by tipping me on Kofi, commissioning me to write an astrological report for you, or signing up to become a monthly supporter of my writing.
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Oh hey there! This my first time requesting you!
I have a request for chuuya nakahara and dazai osamu. I wanna ask that how would he be a as a boyfriend to a s/o who could control electrons in the atmosphere.
For dazai its how would he confess to girl who he admires for a long time but is scared to lose her, but she confesses to him before he could?
Thank you very much and I love the rule about angst without a happy ending i mean cmon life is tough enough already we all are carrying emotional baggage in some way or the other 😭😭
Love you admin, take care! 💞💞
Trying this again because I finished and tumblr deleted it ALLLL
I love science!
𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾 & 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒜𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈- 𝓃𝑜𝓅𝑒
𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 / 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒
𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾
Will ask the most annoying questions
“Can you make your body a metallic bond so when you’re hit by an enemy, you’re malleable. Oh! Can you make the hatrack an ionic bond so I can make his charges line up and he’ll explode!”
“Dazai… No!
Yall meet a work
He teases you, goes on missions with you, pranks Kunikida with you
But it’s not until your ability goes haywire and you’re hurt one day that he realizes he likes you
From then on, he hugs you when your ability acts up
Nullifying you and getting a hug
A win win in his book
Little things change
He does his paperwork, doesn’t drink as much, teases you more, and makes less suicide attempts
Though, he can’t confess
You’re too good, he can’t ruin you with his depression and violent past
But, what if you say no?
He thinks it’s a lose lose
What a dumb thing for such a smart guy to think?
He finally decided to confess when Ranpo tells him that it’s a good idea
(Ranpo, the world's greatest detective, can obviously tell you like Dazai and he likes you. Why not be the wingman for the new it couple?)
“Dazai… the entire agency knows. And I’ll tell them for you… unless you get me a snack. Yknow, I’m no romance detective, but love is in the air.”
So… he brings you to the Port
Wins you a cute little teddy at a game slot
He’s about to confess
But… before he can speak
“Dazai, I like you!”
You like him. You. So incredibly intelligent, strong, kind? He’s smart, but would’ve never seen this coming
He noticed how the ocean twists
You ability acts up and is causing the hydrogen and oxygen to disconnect
You’re practically shaking with nerves
So… he hugs you
Not a kiss… he would never rush such a perfect moment
The ocean calms, you ability nullifies
Now that you’re dating, the question are WORSE
“Did you change the atoms in my brain so I love you?” “One, no. Two, that’s not how love works!”
Brags to everyone, even if it’s annoying
Just adores you
Thinks he could die happy
Although, he’d much rather live to love you
Makes sure that all your missions are local so he can get to you incase electrons start buzzing around
Calls you dumb things, stupid science jokes, it’s a headache
Overall, so smart but sooo stupid
𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶
Thinks you’re the coolest!
Likes to think your abilities are similar and you two have a connection
Also… a bit dumb
So he asks so many questions
What, he’s fascinated with you and he wants to know as much as he can
“Valence electrons? What?” “What do ya mean I can’t see em? Too small?”
Even if he’s technically the strongest in the entire Port Mafia, thinks you’re better
I mean, he can control gravity but you can manipulate matter!
Thinks that you’re a gift for all his years of hell and unluckiness
Even if you’re just a friend… for now
Never EVER lets you go on missions alone
Makes sure at least one of his trusted subordinates is with you
And if that can’t happen, he’ll make sure Mori gives Chuuya you’re a dangerous work
He’ll miss sleep to take your work, just so you’re safe
If you’re ever overwhelmed, he’ll float you off the ground
Makes sure that you can calm down
Maybe it’s the air higher up, maybe the scenery?
Or… maybe it’s his arms wrapped tight around you
He realizes during one of these moments how much he loves you
“Shh, it’s okay. You ability is stable and you’re safe.”
After asking Kouyou for advice, he’s ready to confess
Buys roses, wine, a jazz record, and a little stuffed animal
Knocks on your apartment when…
You open the door… looking stunning.
“Chuuya? What’re you doing here?”
A gorgeous red outfit, styled hair and makeup. He used his ability to float the gifts to the ceiling so you wouldn’t see.
“Oh… you look pret- I mean! You’re so dressed up.”
“Yeah… was about to leave.”
His heart sunk, although his cheeks warmed at the sight of you in such a beautiful outfit.
“Do you have a date?”
“Date? No, I don’t.”
What a relief!
“Well, what’s the occasion?”
“… I really like you Chuuya! I was gonna try and find you at work now!”
Oh woah… did he just die and go to heaven?
Gives you the sweetest kiss (It’s definitely his first)
Now that you’re dating, he spoils you
Remember how no one is allowed to put you in danger?
Before, he’d let other watch you
But now he’ll clear his day just for your safety
Tries to learn as much as he can about science so he can talk with you even more
“Damn it… electron sea? I thought we had seven seas already?”
Overall? Perfect 11/10
#bsd x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya#bsd fanfic#dazai x you#dazai x y/n#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader#dazai x fem reader#bsd dazai#chuuya x fem!reader#chuuya x you#JACKIEPACKIEESTORIES
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Jealousy, Jealousy Is The Venom In My Veins
➥ in which Billy Loomis sees Stu flirting with you and decides to show everyone that you belong to him {ft. AFAB reader, jealousy, smut, marking, praise, bottom!reader, reader being a little shit, stu also being a little shit, stu being a wingman, not an established relationship}
Requested ~ yes / no | Word Count ~ 1.2k
The media you consume is your own responsibility and I will not be held accountable for your choices. I’m not going to block minors from this account, but proceed with caution anyway.
Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid
Cold air lifted your hair off your shoulders, sending a shiver down your back. You’d never been more glad to see Stu’s excited smile as he opened the door, gladly stepping into his house and out of the biting November wind.
“Hey hey, pretty girl! You brought the beers, yeah?”
You nodded, smiling at him when he swung an arm over your shoulders and hanging off of you like a big, friendly coat. You both entered the living room, and you noticed Billy’s seething gaze drop to Stu’s arm. Feeling a tiny bit uncomfortable with how sharply he was scrutinizing you, you slunk out of the embrace and plopped down on the couch — opposite Billy.
You still felt Billy’s burning eyes on you as you downed half your beer, but soon your discomfort was drowned underneath the fuzzy warmth of alcohol. You could see the telltale signs of Stu’s own buzz as the night wore on, his actions becoming even more animated than usual and his words getting louder.
The other way you could tell he was getting drunk was the way his eyes and hands would linger on you for a second longer than necessary, and his usually dirty jokes turned to thinly veiled flirtatious remarks.
Billy stood abruptly, setting down the beer bottle he’d been cradling all night none too carefully. You gave him a questioning look, Stu still talking animatedly from your lap, and he returned a half-hearted smile.
When Billy didn’t return after five minutes, you pushed Stu off of your lap and stood to follow him. He gave you a knowing look and a cocky smirk, and you only entertained the question of why for a few seconds before walking into the kitchen.
You were met with the unexpected sight of Billy repeatedly running his hand through already disheveled hair, muttering the same thing over and over and pacing back and forth. After a few seconds he still hasn’t noticed you so you softly said his name and laid your hand on his arm.
He jerked away like he’d been burned, eyes flitting around the room, looking anywhere but yours.
“Billy. . .” With a tremendous amount of effort, he tore his gaze away from the suddenly very interesting countertops and focused on you. He was suddenly hyper aware of the beautiful way your face was twisted in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just—“ and suddenly you were kissing him. It sent electricity down to the tips of his toes and zipping back up his spine. Slowly, too slowly, you reached your hands up to his neck and he gripped your wrists, kissing you back with just as much passion.
Never in a million years did he believe he would have you like you are right now, hands tangled in his hair and your lips on his.
All too soon you stepped back, burning red tainting your cheeks. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry, I’ll just—“
But then you noticed the dopey grin on Billy’s face, a real one this time, and you blush even harder than before, if that was even possible. “What?”
“I’ve been waiting months for you to do that.”
This time it was him who was kissing you, so much more sure of himself then you were, so much more confident. His hands found your waist and his tongue explored your mouth.
After that it wasn’t long for you both to find an excuse to head back to Billy’s house — some bullshit about you feeling a little too tipsy and Billy needing to drive you home. Stu just gave you that same knowing look and made some vulgar comment that you don’t remember. You flipped him off, stumbling a bit for dramatic effect.
The drive was quicker than you expected, your leg shaking with either anxiety or anticipation the whole time. Somehow you made it up to his room in between stolen kisses, your clothes discarded along the way.
Under any other circumstances, Billy would take his time with you, worshipping every inch of your body, but right now he just wanted to watch you come undone, wanted to make sure you’d never let Stu touch you again. His breath was hot against your neck, his hands manhandling you onto your back on his bed.
“You look so good under me,” he breathed the words right next to your ear. You shivered, squeezing your thighs together and chasing any sort of friction. “Shhh, darling, your praise kink is showing.”
You glared up at him. “I don’t have a—“
The words were blocked in your throat when he slipping two fingers inside of you, thumb grinding against your clit. “Mhm. Good girl.” He smirked against your neck when he felt you clench around him at his words.
“Oh.”
He slipped another finger in and you whimpered into his hair, nails finding purchase against the muscles of his back. He curls his fingers and you feel the knot inside of you already coming undone, and apparently he does too because he pulls out, licking his fingers clean before placing them around your neck. “Now be good for me and take my cock the same way you take my fingers.”
You nod, whimpering again when he pushes in. He allows you a moment to catch your breath and adjust to the stretch, his gaze never leaving your heavy lidded eyes. “You okay?”
“Yes,” your throat is dry, your words mumbled, but he still begins slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.
You whine, clutching the sheets under you as a way to ground yourself, eyes screwed shut against the wall of overbearing pleasure.
He bit you neck sharply, sucking on the mark. He did it over and over and over, relishing in your moans and whimpers every time. He was going to fucking make sure everyone knew who you belonged to.
The whole time his brown eyes are focused on your face, on the slight dusting of pink, on the way your nose crinkles when he kisses it, on the way your mouth falls open on a particularly deep thrust.
“That’s it, darling, you’re doing so well,” he punctuates each of his words with a kiss, determined to show you just how much he appreciates you. “God, you’re so fucking perfect, can’t believe I have you all to myself now. You’re never gonna let Stu touch you again, huh?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. You open your eyes only to be met with his piercing gaze.
“Use your words, pretty girl.”
“Yes!” You yelped. “Yes, God, yes. Stu will never - shit - he’ll never touch me again!”
Billy’s hand snaked between your intertwined bodies, pressing down slightly on your abdomen to see your eyes glaze over. He smirked down at your writhing form, your hips grinding into his in a desperate chase for release.
“How do you feel?”
You smiled up at him, capturing his lips in a kiss. “So, so good.”
The only thing ringing in his ears were your beautiful moans and the reassurance that no one will ever touch you again as long as he was around. And he was going to be around for a long, long time.
#billy loomis#scream#scream 1996#smut#Billy loomis smut#billy loomis scream#ghostface#ghostface smut#scream smut#scream 1996 smut
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Flash, Flirt, Fuck
Fandom: Demon Slayer/Kimetsu no Yaiba
Rating: Mature/Explicit - Minors DNI (18+ only)
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Sanemi/Reader
Tags: College AU, flashing you classmate, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, spin-the-bottle, truth or dare, light banter, AFAB reader, mildly dubious consent (due to alcohol), wingman Makio, switch reader
Wordcount: 3.4k
Flash your crush or eat your friend's potentially hazardous takeout leftovers? The dare is a no-brainer, even if your crush happens to have permanent resting bitch face and has made a few of the college freshmen almost piss themselves in fear. You know he's not all hard edges, so what's the harm?
Cross-posted from my AO3 account.
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“I dare you to flash Sanemi,” Makio slurred, the four drinks she’d slammed starting to affect her speech.
You laughed, taking a sip of your spiked lemonade- the only alcoholic drink you could handle as the lightweight of your college group. You were barely on your second and already feeling quite the buzz; chest light and a weightlessness to your limbs that would turn to lead once the booze began to wear off.
“You want me to walk all the way to the boy’s hall to flash Sanemi? The resident hardass?”
Makio grinned, bringing the amber bottle to her lips and keeping eye contact while she took a deep pull. It was always astonishing to watch her retain most of her fine motor skills even when sloshed to high heaven while you would fail a drunk driving test sober. You’d already missed your mouth once, resulting in a rapidly drying spot on your shirt that still smelled like booze.
“You gonna take the penalty instead?”
“Ew, no,” you waved your hand, cringing at the idea of having to eat whatever leftover (and probably moldy) food was stuffed in the back of Suma’s fridge. The girl had a habit of forgetting takeout and growing new strains of bacteria that should probably be classified as hazardous waste and disposed of as such. “I like my life, thank you.”
“It’s not that bad!” Suma sipped her drink, lip wobbling. “I cleaned it out last month. You guys are so meaaaaan!”
“Get going, then,” Shinobu waved you off, smiling lazily and swirling the glass of wine she was nursing. “And one of us will tail you to make sure you don’t chicken out.”
“I’m glad you all will be enjoying this,” you stood, almost toppling over as the floor swayed. “Because I’m 100% sure I’ll be getting chewed out for flashing my tits instead of the thanks I deserve for blessing him with this view.”
“You can cry yourself to sleep later,” Makio called after you, laughter from the large group echoing behind you, a stupid, drunk smile still on your face.
The boy’s hall was one floor down, and you didn’t trust yourself on the stairs, so you had to wait for the elevator. Heat rolled off your skin from the warmth of the room you’d just left- it had been near suffocating with the bodies of all your friends pressed together in a game of Spin-the-Bottle. The suggestion had come from Mitsuri, and the rest of you agreed, eager for some fun and laughs. The dares had started off simple, as had the truths, devolving into more debauched and crazy requests as the alcohol hit everybody’s systems.
The elevator doors finally opened, and you entered, mashing the button for the floor below yours while leaning against the wall languidly.
It was Hinatsuru who’d actually gotten you into this predicament, if you really thought about it. The conversation had turned to the boy’s hall earlier on in the game, around the time you’d chosen truth on your turn.
“Fuck, marry, kill,” Hinatsuru said. “With Tengen, Sanemi, and Kyojuro.”
Your answer had surprised everyone, leaving mouths agape around the entire circle when you chose to off the infamous lady-killer Tengen, marry the college heart-throb Kyojuro, and fuck Sanemi Shinazugawa. No explanation was provided in the following uproar, but you hadn’t been so drunk as to miss the devious sparkle that lit in Makio’s eyes. She’d been waiting for you to choose “dare” and pounced the moment the words had left your lips.
Now you were stumbling down the hall, counting doors until you reached room 413. You paused for a fraction of a second, wondering if you should think through the all the possibly embarrassing outcomes, but didn’t let the hesitation sway your resolve. Rapping on the door, you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. A few moments passed and you wondered if maybe Sanemi was out, and you wouldn’t have to complete the dare. Maybe you’d get a pass (and also wouldn’t have to consume any of the potentially fatal food from Suma’s fridge).
The universe had other plans, however, as the door opened to reveal a scowling white-haired man. The black sweats he wore hung low on his hips, a white undershirt clinging to his torso and leaving his shoulder bare. The jagged scars across his entire body did nothing to hinder the butterflies starting to dance in your gut at the sight of him.
He’d been your crush since you started school, and until tonight you’d hidden it pretty well. Almost everyone thought he was a grumpy asshole (which he could be sometimes), and you’d even been half-frightened to death the first time you’d seen him, his sharp voice making your heart stutter in fear, but the trepidation quickly faded as you watched him interact with faculty and some of the younger students. He was respectful, if blunt, and even if he was a bit harsh on the new kids, he went out of his way to make sure they got to the right classes. You’d caught the tail end of his conversation with what you assumed was his younger brother a few weeks back that solidified your perception of him to be correct: he was a big softie underneath that prickly exterior.
It also didn’t hurt that Sanemi was gorgeous to look at. He obviously took good care of himself, and had stunning features: lavender eyes, white hair, and long lashes. He wasn’t as tall as some of the other guys in school, like Tengen, but you didn’t give a flying fuck when his body looked like that and his voice had that raspy growl when he spoke.
“What do you want?”
The flat tone broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality where Sanemi stood with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. As much as you felt like throwing up from the way your nerves were turning the butterflies in your stomach into poisonous slugs, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and flipped it up. The cool air of the hall raised gooseflesh on your stomach and tits, and you almost shivered.
The look on Sanemi’s face went from blank, to confused, to alarmed in less than a second, and you wished you could have recorded it to watch later. You dropped your top back down, tilted your head with a coy smirk, and clasped your hands behind your back as you took a step back, turning on your heel to head back to your friends without a word, dare complete.
“What the hell-”
A hand encircled your wrist and you paused, looking back at Sanemi.
“Yeah?”
Sanemi looked lost, an expression you hadn’t expected to see on his face after your little display. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the faintest blush dusting his ears and the high point of his cheek bones.
“What was that for?” he demanded, finally finding his voice.
“A dare,” you shrugged, answering before your brain caught up with your mouth.
He let go of your hand, straightening and recovering his usual pissy frown. You stayed rooted to where you were, staring at him with a curious gaze.
“Just a dare? Not… ‘cause you wanted to?”
He sounded borderline petulant if your ears were hearing things right. You kicked aside your nerves to step closer, meeting his eyes and getting uncomfortably close to him.
“Can’t it be both?”
He swallowed, eyes flickering down to your parted lips.
“Is… it?”
You lidded your eyes, grinning up at him, a breath away from his face. His own eyes were starting to grow a bit hazy with want, sending a thrill through you.
“Why don’t you use some context clues?”
“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” he countered, hands coming up to rest gently on your hips.
You caught your lip between your teeth, sliding your fingers under the edges of the narrow white straps of his tank top and tugging him closer.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Sanemi’s arms were around you before you realized it, and your world was literally turned on its head as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. A doorframe passed your view, and the creak and slam let you know that you were inside his room before he threw you onto the bed, eyes filled with lust.
“Say the word,” he caged you in with his arms. “And I’ll stop.”
“What do I say to make you keep going?” you asked playfully, sliding your hands down his chest.
Sanemi made a noise in his throat, surging forward to capture your lips with his. His tongue danced along your teeth and you nipped at his lower lip, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sage green covers crumpled under your back as you writhed under the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles just above your hip bones.
“I didn’t get a good look at these earlier,” Sanemi pulled back breathlessly, hooking his fingers under your shirt and lifting it to your chin. “Open.”
You obeyed, and Sanemi stuffed the hem of your top into your mouth, making you hold it up while he dropped to lavish your breasts with attention. One calloused thumb pad brushed over the pebbled nub, sending sparks throughout your body, whimpers escaping around the fabric clenched in your teeth. His tongue pressed against the other nipple, enveloping it in heat. You tried to draw your legs up, but Sanemi forced them apart with one knee, pressing into your crotch. You squirmed against it, trying to get friction, not caring if you looked desperate.
Sanemi pulled back, relieving you completely of your shirt as he tugged it over your head. Your mouth finally free, you propped yourself up on your elbows to chase his lips. He obliged you, letting the taste of his mouth fill yours, a hand dropping to trace your skin with blunt fingertips. Everything was heady from alcohol and lust, and you giggled against his touch. It was like a dream: you and Sanemi.
The hunger for more was quickly sinking its teeth into your stomach.
You pushed yourself up, forcing Sanemi’s compliant form back until he was sitting on his knees. Hands found their way to his waistband, and he assisted in removing the offending fabric. Hot, moist breath fanned over his erect member, one of his hands already buried in your hair. You pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside, licking up and reveling in the sharp intake of breath above you.
“Fuck,” Sanemi groaned.
You took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the dark pink head to hear those lovely noises that he tried desperately to hold back escape from his throat. Scarred hands had threaded through your hair and gripped tightly, controlling your movements. Spit dripped down the sides of his dick and clung at the corners of your mouth as Sanemi fucked your face, eyes locked on where his cock slipped in and out of your swollen lips.
“Shit,” he cursed, pulling you off of him after a particularly deep thrust that had left you gagging around him. “Are you-”
“Good,” you assured him, eyes half closed in contentment, flickering downwards as you caught your lips between your teeth.
“Lay down,” Sanemi instructed, an amused smile creeping onto his face as you scrambled to obey.
He moved to between your legs, a hand dropping to slide against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your sex. You whimpered, wriggling against his touch and clutching the sheets with both hands.
“Touch your tits,” Sanemi said. “Since you were so intent on showing off earlier.”
You flushed a deep ruddy color, hands hesitantly coming up to brush over your breasts as a sliver of embarrassment wormed its way into your brain. Sanemi watched your face, your own gaze obscured by lowered lashes and intent on staring at his hand moving at your core.
“Look at me,” he commanded, drawing your eyes to his. “Say my name.”
“S-Sanemi.”
Now that Sanemi was controlling the situation, you found yourself more nervous and unsure of yourself, not used to having the attention on you like this during sex: his smoldering intense gaze and demand for eye contact unsettled- but also thrilled- you.
“Again,” Sanemi pressed one finger against your entrance.
“Sanemi…” you swallowed, body tensing involuntarily.
“Relax,” he lowered himself down until his breath warmed your neck, pressing kisses against your throat. “Say it again.”
“Sanemi-”
Your voice pitched up at the end of his name as his finger plunged into you, velvet walls clenching at the intrusion. Sanemi swore under his breath, rolling his hips against the mattress in time with the slow thrusts of his finger inside of you, slowly pressing another in alongside it after a minute. Your whole body rippled and clenched, searching for more stimulation and touch, arms wrapping around Sanemi’s broad shoulders.
“More, please,” you whined into his hair.
“Already? You sure you’re ready?” Sanemi asked, lifting his head to look you in the eye.
You nodded, furrowing your brow and frowning. Sanemi tried to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips and cleared his throat to cover a laugh at your pout. His fingers withdrew from the warmth of your body, making you gasp. He readjusted, positioning himself at your entrance, and you could swear you saw his hands tremble from excitement.
“Fffffu-” Sanemi’s swear was cut off as you clenched around him.
As much as you tried to relax, the pressure between your legs made your body flex and tense. It wasn’t making Sanemi’s job any easier- although from the look on his face, you assumed it wasn’t exactly a bad thing.
“Shit, you’re so- fuck-”
The garbled praise stroked your ego. You wiggled your hips, feeling a bit of satisfaction when Sanemi grabbed them to keep you from moving, face turning pink as his mouth fell open.
“D-don’t do that. Give me a second.”
“Aww,” you crooned, teasing a bit. “Pussy too good?”
“Shut up,” he scowled (not a true scowl, you noted with delight) and pulled his hips back, snapping into you with a ferocity you didn’t expect. A gasp escaped your lips and your own cheeks pinked.
The pace was slow but steady; deep strokes dragging against your plush walls. Each time he plunged into you it felt like he pressed farther in, hitting deeper and deeper until you were sure he couldn’t get any more in your guts than he was, only to be proven wrong. You were breathless as each thrust forced the air from your lungs in a choked whimper, Sanemi’s hips bruising the back of your thighs with the amount of force he applied in retaliation for your teasing.
Your eyes threatened to roll back into your skull, mouth open in a silent cry, tits bouncing with each slap of skin.
“What’s the matter?” Sanemi taunted, throwing your words back into your face. “Dick too good?”
You whimpered a reply, digging your hands into the covers that had rucked up around your head from all the movement. The ridges of the ropy scars adorning his hips were quickly imprinting themselves into the skin of your backside from the harsh impact of each thrust. Sanemi’s pale skin had flushed across his chest and cheeks from the exertion, heat rolling off his figure in waves. A faint sheen of sweat covered both of your bodies, glittering in the low light of Sanemi’s bedside lamp as lewd sounds filled the air.
Your keens began to pitch upwards at the end as Sanemi adjusted the angle he fucked into you at, curling his body over yours and pressing his lips against your collarbone as you released the sheets to anchor your hands in his hair once again. Dark marks painted the column of your neck and along your decollete, purple and damp from Sanemi’s mouth. His hips stuttered against yours, movements starting to become frantic and erratic as your legs instinctively locked around his waist, drawing him closer. He snaked one hand down between the two of you, fumbling fingers flicking your clit with a marked lack of the earlier finesse he’d displayed.
You legs flexed, core winding tighter until a well-timed thrust had you spilling over the edge, his name tearing from your throat. The fluttering of your lush walls around him as you came was Sanemi’s undoing, his own orgasm ripping through him as he groaned your name in a hungry desperation, hips still rutting into you even as the bliss began to fade. It was as if he didn’t want it to end, pushing himself impossibly closer to you and locking his arms around your neck in an embrace as his body slowed to a standstill, half-crushing you under his weight.
“Stay for a bit?”
The faint request was mumbled breathlessly, almost inaudible. You cracked open your eyes, which had fluttered shut in ecstasy earlier. Sanemi was propped on his elbows, half-hovering over you. The tension rose again, something in his eyes melting your heart into a warm sludge that settled in your stomach.
The moment was shattered by a loud voice shouting just outside Sanemi’s door.
“You have five seconds to become decent before I come in!”
Shinobu’s voice wasn’t hard to recognize, and your face went white. Sanemi threw his shirt at you, grabbing his pants and shoving both feet in, comically wiggling them on. His shirt was just long enough to cover up the important parts on you, even if your nipples were a bit visible through the thin material. The door flung open (Shinobu had granted you an extra second, which you were thankful for) to reveal the dark-haired woman standing with one hand on her hip, the other holding the door wide. The rest of your friends were accumulated behind her, peering around and over her shoulders in varying degrees of shock and delight at your compromising position.
Sanemi glanced between your embarrassed face and the group of girls blocking his door. You could see him put two and two together in his head.
“Did you all have to tail me?” you covered your red face with your hands.
“I take it I have one of them to thank for that dare?” Sanemi’s resting bitch face was back in action as he left the bed, striding over to the group.
“You’re welcome,” Makio raised her bottle in a lazy salute.
“I’ll send you a thank-you card later,” Sanemi took control of the door back from Shinobu. “In the meantime; I’d appreciate it if you’d stop clogging up the hall.”
“I can’t believe she’d rather fuck you than Tengen,” Makio shook her head, pushing off the wall.
“Tengen?” Sanemi raised a brow.
“She chose to kill Tengen in Fuck, Marry, Kill,” Suma offered. “And to Fuck you.”
“Suma!” you groaned. “Can you all just leave?”
Sanemi leaned lazily against the door.
“So is that why you dared her to fuck me?”
There was a chorus of laughter, none louder than Makio’s. Sanemi raised his brows, watching the woman doubled over in laughter.
“We never dared her to sleep with you,” Makio finally straightened, wheezing. “Just to flash her tits.”
The door slammed in their faces, Sanemi’s back to you as he locked it. You swallowed, hands holding the hem of his shirt down over your thighs as you sat in his bed. Sanemi’s shoulders heaved as if he was taking deep breaths.
“You… didn’t get dared to fuck me?”
Sanemi spun on his heel, in front of you before you realized it. His lavender eyes locked with yours. It took a second for you to notice the cocky smile playing on his lips.
“No, but I wanted to, though,” you wet your lips, eyes roving over Sanemi’s face. “Does it matter?”
His lips pulled back to reveal a full smile, something you’d never seen before. His hands came up to either side of your face. When his face was a fraction away from yours, he paused, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.
“Hell-fucking-no,” he growled, surging forward to catch your mouth with his.
Outside the room and down the hall, the gaggle of girls waited at the elevator, voices not exactly quiet.
“Why did you make her flash Sanemi?” Mitsuri asked Makio. “You know he can be… rough around the edges. What if he’d… not been into it.”
Makio laughed.
“A little birdie told me Sanemi had a bit of a crush on a certain someone,” the blonde tossed her empty bottle into a trash receptacle. “And I had a perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. Why shouldn’t I?”
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#ao3 writer#fanfic#fanfiction#sanemi shinaguzawa#kny sanemi#kny smut#demon slayer smut#college au
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