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satoruhour · 1 year ago

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HIHII hope you are doing well!!!

I have a request but if you're not comfortable writing it's completely fine too!!

Anyways~ can you write something with University professor geto x top student reader??? They have a lot of sexual tension and geto continuously targets the reader in his lectures only for her to storm into his office after a test in which he didn't give her the marks she deserved just so he could piss her off and eventually leading them to blow off some steam together hehe-

HEJSJSH ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE DAY💗💗

-🍒

I GOT THAT DUMB D*CK !

a/n: hi cherry 2! saying 2 because i already have another cherry anon, thank u for waiting for this btw sorry this took so long omggg!!! i wanna make it similar to the short blurb i did here, but ill leave out reader being a camgirl! a lot of lore talk, just a warning

wc: 8k (sigh ....)

warnings: so much lore lol sorry, no beta we die like men, age gap (32 / 24), professor!geto, fem!reader, geto is also a cam worker, masturbation (both f and m), toy use during f! masturbation (vibrator), fantasising, pet names, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, oral (m receiving, f receives briefly at the end), dumbification (ig?) face-fucking, deep-throating, spitting in mouth, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, cum eating, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

no one could really pinpoint the reason why professor geto had picked on you, called you out so much, and why you entertained the incessant questions. it was unbecoming of a prof., he knew, it was never smart to favour one person (negatively, in this case) in a room of bright students who could read between the lines. but he just feels himself so drawn to your furrowed eyebrows and words laced with venom, because at the end of the day, he can see that you aren’t all talk.

you challenge his views and you do it in a way that catches him off-guard. you propose insane arguments that you willingly would die at the grave just to find evidence for; or it could just be because he was staring too much at the way your mouth moved and your eyes expressed everything to pay attention to your words, finding that you were just too beautiful to be chasing a linguistics degree.

this was another thing: geto suguru could possibly have anyone he wanted. he was fine. shoulders pulled back in proper posture, hair either tied up fully or just halfway, and always, always wearing shirts with sleeves that reach his wrist. to that, everyone could see just how bulked the man was, top looking too tight all the time.

geto knew he was fine, too, because on top of (and before) being a professor, he found that he could get a good amount of money by just streaming — camera propped below his neck and obviously tight button-up shirt discarded to reveal his tattooed body, while he has his legs spread and the thirsty, horny comments flooding in on the platform. it’s been a norm by now, started from his uni days where he needed some extra money to support his fees and living necessities.

one year turned into two, two years turned into stagnancy during his third and fourth years (save for a few occasional streams), and up came a little funny graduation stream suggested by his best friend. geto had spent a good half ’n hour talking about his time in university and thanking his viewers, changing up the setting almost immediately by showing hard he was.

[uzum4kisl0ver]: YEAAAH we’re getting to the good stuff, thank u for feeding us so well these few years uzumaki-san!!

[minstash96]: Congrats on graduating Uzumaki-san!! I rmb joining during your third year and found out from everyone u were getting busier </3 but Im glad youre back again!!!

[g_bigdick_s]: fellas is it gay to support your best friend’s graduation jerking off stream

the flood of “yes”’s replying to gojo made the streamer laugh, thankful that his best friend had listened a little and at least changed gojobigdicksatoru to just his “G.S.” initials to avoid people finding his LinkedIn. from there, geto had gotten into the true nature of his stream easily, fishing out his cock to stroke and loving the sounds of tips coming in, the name of his alias Uzumaki continually commented. since then, it’s become a side hustle — finishing his masters, training to become a professor, it’s all natural to him, taking even further steps to make sure he isn’t found out.

exactly, he could have anyone he wanted — a fan from his streaming account, or one of satoru’s regular fwb’s but instead he finds himself drawn to someone else, you, the second year student in his bilingualism and multilingualism module that he has no trouble teaching despite his freshly employed status.

at the start of the week, the gods decided thought it would be funny to delay the campus bus that would take you to the english department for a consultation session with your professor. you couldn’t focus in lectures due to bad cramps, you were behind on your non-major related courses, the bad luck just seemed to seep into one day after another. you had woken up late, putting on a terrible outfit that no one really cared about, except your professor who just had a smirk on his face.

“if you notice, runes were created as they were spoken — spelt as they are said which almost look like ‘pictographs’,” prof. geto switches to the next slide with the runes and their meanings alongside a jumble of symbols that send the whole class into hysterics, “can anyone sound out the phonetics of these runes to me? hint: even though i said they look like pictographs, the first rune is definitely not an E.”

he was known for asking questions during lectures, pleased with anyone that would even try because he knew how quiet lecture theatres could get. he was exactly like that in university, too, letting satoru take all the attention due to the many unknown people in the same room. now, he found that asking the questions was a little entertaining, seeing the way students look back down at their laptops and avoid eye contact. but he doesn’t need to do anything and his body is already turnt towards you. he’s not even pointing physically, which he thinks he’s done a good job of restraining himself.

ᛊᛃᚨᚾᛖᛚ

“the words and names should be as they sound — so ‘s’ or ᛊ should translate into a ‘c’ since they didn’t have a C back then and it’s the closest sound to C. ᛃ can’t be ‘h’ because of the usage of H in hagl . . its pronunciation is different and plus, we’ll spell it how we say it, so maybe it’s ‘j’?” you mutter to yourself, an urge to answer the quickest, always. you aren’t sure where this streak came from, but you’ve been smart always, “sja . . it either can be chanel or channel since there’s a rule you can’t use the same rune twice in succession . .”

professor geto already knows you’d be the first to answer, raising your hand even without looking since you were still calculating the other four letters which you put together fairly quickly.

you take the safest route, “chanel, with one N.”

geto clicks his tongue and sucks in a breathe, “so close, miss (y/n), but it’s because i cheated a little on my part.” you can feel your blood boil and the grimaces of other students when he switches to the next slide and there’s a little grin on his face. it says — ‘there is no distinction between capital and small runes, nor can you use the same rune twice continually.’

“you are right, partially, but i did want to drive home the point,” which he’s sure you already know. “that words with two N’s or L’s or whatever, would only show up in the runic language as only one character.” your face morphs into something of annoyance and the grin on professor geto’s face only widens — that defiant, headstrong nature is something he loved, but the grin drops a little when he imagines something . . out of the classroom. his pants tighten.

you mirror him, clicking your tongue and reluctantly taking down the note in your documents before sinking into your chair — not even chō, you friend, could find the proper words to comfort you. you spend the rest of the lecture, sulking, unwillingly answering his incessant questions with a scowl on your face and a headache forming.

this never stops—

“miss (y/n)?” one-on-one meetings were the bane of your existence, but it was the only way to connect with your professors properly — here, geto calls you to talk about your latest essay where you were the last on the roster. by then, everyone has filed out with nobara waiting for you just outside the classroom.

“don’t have to call my name, i’m the only one here.” you mutter under your breath, and geto feels a little annoying today.

“what was that?”

“nothing—”

he hums, scooting his chair closer once you sit, and while you find the gesture a little weird, you’re overcome with just how good he smells and it only fuels your hatred more. it’s no fair that he’s so . .

“miss (y/n).” you sigh with an apology, frankly not ready to hear how he’d be attacking your essay. it was written on a rushed timeline, you didn’t cite your sources properly, you knew some criticism was warranted as much as you didn’t like to hear it from your professor’s mouth.

“. . you do know you can’t just rely on your brain, right?” geto speaks softly and you feel your heart flutter at his tone. he points to the places where you forget your in-text citations.

“but professor, information about syntax and phonetics just comes like second nature . .” you mumble, ignoring how he closes his eyes and hisses, “and all the sources on the internet say different things.”

“then just find a reliable one.”

you tsk, taking the paper from him and flipping to the next page, “well, i did one here.” the paper makes a sound when you press your finger into it, aware of how close you are. from here you can feel the heat radiating off his body, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together.

“too long ago, needs to be within five years.” geto’s lying through his teeth.

“no, it does not!” you pull back and look at him incredulously. ah, the feeling’s gone, “not in language related papers, at least!”

“but that claim was from the 2000’s, miss (y/n), for all we know it could’ve been resolved by then.”

“then why didn’t you say anything about chō’s scholar article from the 1990’s?” you’re standing up, now, furrowed eyebrows depicting the very thing you feel: confusion, agitation at being treated like this. given you weren’t in the best condition when you wrote this essay, but you still gave it your all.

“her argument was about the interconnectedness between the romance languages — yours,” he punctuates while leaning back in his chair. you don’t like how your eyes flit down to his lap, but you’re forced to look up when he stands up too, “is about the use of ciphers in comparison to an immature language developed on the internet that created in the 2019s. any scholar claim before that would be void.”

your blood boils just like that day. alas, he had a good point, but like always, the gentle slit of his eyes and the all-knowing smile didn’t match the bullying he was laying on you and you despise it.

even! even, as you notice how there’s probably less than a inch between your faces as you puff out your chest to look more intimidating and yet geto suguru towers over you. and even when your heart beats loudly in your ears, feeling his hot breath fan over your own face while you don’t miss how he licks his lips and glances down to yours not-so-secretly.

you swallow at the silence, until there’s the annoying notification of his Outlook cutting the tension and soon you’re snatching the essay from him, walking to where your bag is. although you want to let your anger overflow, all you say is a tame, “noted. thanks, prof” with a glare, eye twitching.

you made sure to slam the classroom door with shaky hands . .

. . but you’re not very good at capping your rage. “i swear to god! he better fucking check his mirror and admire himself because soon i’m going to beat him up so bad that everyone can’t recognise him.” geto’s lips turn up in a small smirk at your flared expression he just witnessed — he just loves your dirty mouth and he finds himself thinking of it more and more often.

chō only can tut, “so you find him attractive?”

“what? how the hell did you infer that from my rant?” you scoff, shoving her to the side, not aware that your whispered outburst is heard as he’s packing up. he simply enjoys looking at you walk away through the glass slit of the door, hips swaying unknowingly.

“bad news, guys,” geto, or rather Uzumaki, sighs on screen, adjusting so the lens of the camera rested just below his collarbones. easily, his chat fills up with a mixture of horny comments and genuine questions, chuckling to himself as he unbuttons his shirt. he feels more like a sinner at this point, suddenly flustered with the confession he’s about to make.

“i think i’ve taken quite a liking to someone,” geto hums, hands going to his trousers to palm his bulge. he had to get home immediately after that, cancelling his meetings for the day. with a single text to gojo, the white-haired man was excited to hear everything about this new person, thankful that his best friend will finally not be alone.

[g_bigdick_s]: TELL US! TELL US!!!! TELL US!

but professor geto is lost instantly, imagining you as he massages his erection. thinking about your anger transforming into pleasure, into obedience for him as he forces your mouth down on his cock. oh . . how’d your mouth and hands feel, how’d your pussy feel.

geto groans, already removing his dick from the constraints, and pumping it to full length. he doesn’t even talk much, only the endless comments and tips reminding him he was still on live. spitting on his hand, he wraps his hand around himself again, thumbing the tip and hoping it’d be your tongue swirling around it.

what would you look like on your knees, taking each inch of his cock down your throat? would he be able to wipe the defiance off your face? would he be able to fuck his smart student, dumb?

“you need a good destress, woman,” chō suggests over the phone, voice a bit uneven due to it being stuck in between her shoulder and ear, “go on camstar or something, i’m sure you’ll find something hot there.”

“chō, i am not going on a porn streaming website! i’ll very much settle for my smut fics, thank you.”

“boo, don’t you get bored? i get that normal adult industry videos are super inaccurate but . . when was the last time you’ve watched an unfiltered, unedited jerk off vid? that’s the hottest.”

you scoff, “yeah, like you would know, miss complain-whenever-you-get-dick-pics.”

“that’s because it’s unsolicited! plus all the men who send me pics have ugly dicks. if anything i’m more open to get unsolicited pussy pics rather than consensual dick pics at this point.” your friend nonchalantly says, spreading her fingers to look at her manicured nails, “but anyway, prof geto is on your ass too much lately. maybe he wants to get in your pants?”

you don’t recoil at the suggestion as much as you expect to and you’re puzzled at that — “please never say that again.” just as you’re saying this, you’re typing in camstar.org even though you told yourself not to but deep down, you know that you’ve been craving more than just twitter links and porn with plot stories. on the front page, you’re seeing a video thumbnail of a guy with a fairly big . . feature, countless tattoos lining his body while you can catch a faint glimpse of his long hair in the dark room — it’s the only one that draws you in, other streams merging into a blur.

chō’s voice fades off when you notice just how popular the stream is, cursor hovering over the title (“just a ramblefap, need to release some tension”) almost tempting you to click.

“okay, will get back to you,” succumbing to your needs, you shamelessly grab your vibrator just as she cheers into the phone. you can hear that’s my girl! on the other side as you stifle a smile, bidding a goodbye before you settle into bed. from there, you do what you always do: relax for a few, slow your breathing, get yourself wet a little—

click.

The stream you have attempted to view has ended a minute ago. We apologise for the inconvenience caused. View more livestreams below:

you shove the vibrator under your pillow and bury your head into it, screaming.

“i mentioned in yesterday’s lecture that Latin evolved from the dialects of the Italic peoples of ancient Italy, or Latium, a region in central western Italy. over time, Latin absorbed elements from other languages, such as Etruscan and Greek, and it became the main language of the western Mediterranean.” professor geto rambled on in classic geto fashion — it was his passion that made him so easy to listen to, as with the many enamoured girls with googly eyes and the guys who wish they could carry themselves the way geto did.

you’d say the same thing: his love for his subject of study made him attractive — charming even — as much as you didn’t want to admit to your friend, but you’d be more open with your attraction like everyone is if he wasn’t—

[9:52am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] so fucking annoying and cocky and picking on me all the time!!!!!! im soooo sick of him im so serious omfg ....

but today, he’s looking less at you and more at other students, or even marvelling at the terrible paint job of the classroom as he goes from slide to slide. he talks about the derivation in which French separates from Latin, borrowing similar spellings and meanings from the old language while separating the way they are spoken.

“French is the most divergent of the romance languages because of strong Gallic and Frankish influences. The Celtic Gauls spoke a language similar to Old Dutch but adopted Latin as the Romans invaded Gaul.” you don’t even have to look at him to get him thinking of lewd things, spiralling into his fantasies ever since last night. geto is a little fatigued, too, having lost sleep over his fucking student which he just can’t help bothering. excitement at having you in class before is now turning into dread with every week that passes, and this week is just one instance.

“uh— i-i know you guys aren’t well-versed in either, but with your knowledge of both languages,” geto pulls at his tie. he feels hot, “discuss with your tutorial groups, the differences between the two and list down examples. just come up with one difference, but preferably name a few instances.”

[10:01am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] wish u were here im so bored 😭😭 profs acting so weird today tho

[10:01am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] is he looking hot and bothered, nervous ??? like he wants to cry? im tellin you he wants you fr

of course she’d come out of her sickness-induced sleep just to bother you about him having the hots for you.

[10:02am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] you’re so ... i swear pls shut up he may want me but i do NOT want him

[10:03am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] not even while you were just ranting about how his side profile looked a little too good in lecture yesterday?? anyway i hope you’ll be able to get that nut tn 🙏🏼 that guy on camstar sounded hot asf

[10:04am, (y/n) -> chō 💟] ikr i cant believe i got cockblocked by a fuckin livestream ending 💀 thank you fr i need it atp

“any progress here?” he comes out behind you and you slam the phone so hard you give the both of you a scare while your other friends exchange giggles with each other. what you don’t know, is how his arm is positioned upon the back of your chair and his whole body hovers just beside yours. you’re threatened to look, but you know if you do, you’d be falling deeper into the pit that you promised yourself not to fall into.

“yup, we’re just discussing things about how in terms of grammar, French has conjugation but almost no declension. but— uh, it rather uses word order to express some of the intricacies that Latin expresses through word endings.”

you can see geto nod from your peripheral, “good. good answer, any examples to show me?”

your friends nod towards you since you’re usually the one with all the information about different languages. they aren’t foreign to the way geto keeps calling on you to answer him, too, so you shouldn’t have any problem with this, right?

wrong. you’re stuttering through your answer, turning your head finally and being met with the sight of prof geto looking down on you like a deer caught in headlights. you think that being in lecture theatres, sitting near to the back and your hatred in general has desensitised you to the beauty of your professor, because being under him like this makes your core pulse uncomfortably and your voice shaky.

“. . hm? what was that?”

“i was uhm— saying how— uh,” the way geto nods at you makes you more nervous, painting you as someone who someone who had all bark and no bite, but the other knows very well that you had a nasty bite. you’re smart and witty, pretty, hot as fuck, and if anything, it’s taking everything in geto not to bend you over and show you your place in this very classroom in front of everyone, too.

“little lady got nothin’ for me today?” geto purses his lips and lets his teasing side take over, an easy-going smile taking over his features that you just want to kiss and slap off at the same time. wait.

“i didn’t get enough sleep because i was too busy trying to rewrite the damn essay you said i had outdated and missing sources for,” you speak through gritted teeth, feeling a mixture of arousal and pure rage for the man hovering over you.

geto juts his lip out in a pout, face getting dangerously close to yours and challenging you. he just hopes your two friends won’t say anything, “well, darling, if you picked an easier topic to argue about, you wouldn’t be doing that, would you?”

“well, sorry i’m always trying to outdo myself. are you, professor geto? what with your boring suits and black and white slide designs?”

you click your tongue and turn back to your phone to pull up your chat with chō while geto takes a deep breath, desperately hoping the hard-on wouldn’t show through his slacks. your other two friends only giggle even more at the exchange, because for the rest of the class, professor geto is on edge, unable to teach coherently.

[11:17pm, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] YOU DID WHAAAAATTTTT...???? GIRL YOU SAID THAT???!!!!!!

[11:18pm, (y/n) -> chō 💟] bro what if i get expelled.. i shouldnt have but he was pissing me off so much... i did put an apology in the end tho

by then, you’ve already submitted your rewritten essay, putting in a short note at the end for your behaviour in class. although you don’t take it back, you’re still trying to play it safe especially with how much you paid to get into university. you scroll along camstar, bored out of your mind and hoping to find something as compelling as the inked guy from last week, but nothing really draws you in. until you’re refreshing the page, and just like the previous time, the popularity of that same bulking guy seems to push his video to the top.

and finally, before you’re clicking into the video, you check out his profile: in his early thirties, started this account when he was 24 and in university. you smack your lips at that — he’s been doing this for almost ten years? that’s dedication. in curiosity, you scroll down his account, seeing the progression of which this guy built up his figure and tattoos that litter his body. he’s kept the same format, camera showing his body chest down until you’re lazy to scroll more, a little disappointed in not being able to find any indication of his face.

you think that maybe you saw a glimpse of that wrist tattoo that matched the tattoo on your professor’s wrist, but you could just be imagining things.

“alright guys . .” the man on the screen huffs, clothes already discarded to get straight to the point, and you’re recording a small snippet of the same guy you told chō about. “had a rough day today.”

the onslaught of comments going i can make u feel better!!! Take ur anger out on me Uzumaki-san makes you sputter and laugh, sending that video first before you’re taking another. your attention is stolen for a moment, seeing chō react with emojis to your video message (“let’s see what emails i got today, huh?”), but the structure of sentences that the man speaks soon brings you out of jollity and into shock.

“how cute, an essay sent straight to my email.” geto wants to do anything but look at emails right now, but ever since he’s gotten your rewritten assignment, it’s all he’s wanted to check out if it wasn’t for the many meetings and errands he had to run today. “yadda yadda . . oh?”

“i’m sorry for today’s lesson,” purposely pausing to leave out his name, geto continues on, “i shouldn’t have reacted in that way no matter the situation.” a smirk forms on his face while your body fills with dread. in your panic, you pull up your own document whilst catching all of this on camera, tracking each word as the man on camstar.org continues to say out your apology word by word.

and then bit by bit, you’re making out how the man behind the camera might, just might be your linguistics professor. the broad shoulders, the jawline, the long hair, the manspread . .

but even with your heightened combination of excitement and revelation, you don’t click away, blindly sending the video to your friend and then shamefully digging under your pillow to grab your vibrator.

“teaching people is so difficult sometimes, guys,” he grunts, pulling down his underwear and revealing his already hard cock. he lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps a hand around his shaft, “you usually get the people who won’t do any work, the ones who are absent half the time — usually they go hand in hand.”

professor geto laughs and you twitch at the lovely sound. “but . . there’s this one girl . . in my classes— f-fuck.”

you’re entranced, watching your professor masturbate in front of thousands of people who possibly didn’t know a thing about this man while you try to get your jaw off the floor, “who is entirely different from these categories.”

“she’s smart,” geto groans out and you watch transfixed as he starts to pump himself, hips grinding up into his palm, “she’s so smart that i’d want to get to know her one day and just talk about anything.”

“s-she’s so fucking attractive, too, you guys won’t even— oh goddd . .” you feel like you’re being watched, so you’re careful with how you’re putting your vibrator to your core and once you start it, the moan that leaves you lines up with geto’s deeper groans. it turns you on so damn much.

with his head tilted back, he’s long gone as he moves his hands faster and faster, the slick noises of his pre-cum and spit mixing in together — geto only wishes he could act on his desires once the course was over, but knows you’ll probably be mortified at the prospect. at least here, he can imagine that it’s your mouth or cunt doing all the work.

“s-shitttt . .” the professor sounds out, hissing when he thumbs his tip and even more pre comes spilling out and while you watch, you’re hypnotised by the beautiful moans in its perfect cadence and the thickness of his cock. by now his chest is heaving and he’s holding onto his bedsheets so tight you wish it was your thighs.

“i want to fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head and get her dumb on my cock,” geto whines, hips fully bucking up now while you press your vibrator deeper into your clit. you’re left wondering how his mouth would feel, to shut him up by pressing him into your cunt until he can’t breathe, soak his stupid fucking suits, “want to hear her moan my name.”

you whimper at all the things professor geto swears he wants to do to you, grinding into your hand while he speeds up as well. he doesn’t speak, simply stroking himself as he thighs tense up and he squeezes his shaft with head full of visions of you in terribly lewd positions, making disgusting sounds, and all for him. it isn’t long before geto cums with a loud drawn out moan, shooting his cum onto his torso with a sigh before taking a sticky hand to his lips, licking it off — “i’d want to see my cum dripping out of her one day.”

that sends a chill down to your core, biting your pillow before you release softly all over your hand and vibrator; you spend the rest of the night watching professor geto’s other videos.

[12:32am, chō 💟 -> (y/n)] oh. OH..........

“i should’ve just taken an off-day today, i do not want to get back our results.” chō rubs at her eyes and temples, wanting anything to do with the return of test marks, but unfortunately it was the week after midterms and it was inevitable, “don’t need to ask you though, you’re probably not worried at all.”

“trust me, i am,” you bite the inside of your cheek. it’s been at least . . two weeks after that whole debacle, and despite your intense vents with your friend and the continuous picking on by prof. geto, nothing out of the blue was happening. except, maybe, your growing physical need for your professor and your simultaneous, increasing hatred for him.

“it’s only midterms — you don’t need to worry too much since it doesn’t contain a high percentage. what you should be focusing on are your finals. we’ll work on your shortcomings and mistakes here so you guys will do the best when the time comes.”

and when professor geto comes around to hand you your test, all you do is glare up through your lids, taking it from him before feeling your whole world crumble.

“a B+?!” your mouth gapes open at the blatant 65/100 mark that glares back at you. you know that you would’ve gotten anything but a 65, willing yourself to study harder and harder just to rub it in his pretty little face that you weren’t falling behind in his class. at this point it’s got to be personal, so soon, you’re packing up your things angrily with the intent to storm his office after your other classes.

it’s late in the afternoon when you finally finish your other tutorials on a short fuse, him clearly getting ready to head home by the darkness of his office when you shove your way through the door.

professor geto is sat in a laid-back position, tie hung on the hooks installed in the office and a few buttons are unbuttoned, revealing the very familiar tattoos you’ve become acquainted with.

“to who do i owe the pleasure?”

“cut the crap, prof.,” you scowl, using your foot to slam the office door close. despite the late nights being buried in your sheets, you won’t let yourself be treated like this, “i deserved anything but a 65 on midterms.”

geto tilts his head, sitting up and gesturing out to you; you realise he wants to see your test paper.

“ah!” with a finger, he makes a show of finding for your obvious mistakes which was minimal — but the way he marks obnoxiously tells you everything you need to know, “here. your comprehension of the similarities between Latin and Ancient Greek was too surface level, you didn’t explain why—”

“i. did!” you press down into the paper like the first time, leaning over his table and reading out the exact answer you wrote just a few days ago, “here, since your blind ass wants to act like i wasn’t answering the question.” you push yourself into his desk more, eyes levelled with his. you dare him to say something smart.

“well, your explanation of the six cases in Latin left out the locative, the last one, and there were some problems in the conjugation that the test asked of you.”

“bullshit. show me, if you’re so confident.”

professor geto knows he’s hit a dead-end. he was telling lies, full of it, but he’s enjoying every second of the anger that translates into your features, of the growl in your voice. he leans back further the more you close in on him.

“nothing, right? so tell me, do you hate me that much?”

geto simply laughs, crossing his arms and reminiscing on the many nights he’s spent doing anything but.

“quite the opposite, sweetheart.” the name catches you off-guard for a moment, but your sour face returns soon enough.

“then what the fuck do you think you’re doing, picking endlessly on a student?”

your professor sits forward, prompting you to cower back. you think it’d be good to bring up whatever he’s got going on on camstar.org but you’ll wait to a good moment before you say anything about your trump card, until geto snaps you out of your stupor by towering over you. the sheer difference makes you swallow.

“because i like seeing you flared up and angry and mad.” professor geto surprises you with each second, the nonchalance in which he said it, the stupid, attractive smirk on his face. now’s the time.

you compose yourself, thinking of the best way to phrase this, “you know you’re not entirely safe, either, you know. i could report you with the frequency in which you’re picking on me.”

you point a finger to his chest, thinking you could get him to lay off immediately with this as much as you were hoping he wouldn’t. the attention was unwarranted but not entirely . . terrible, “that wouldn’t look so good on your record, right, Uzumaki-san?”

you relish in the surprise that seeps into geto’s pretty features but it’s a short-lived victory when he goes back into a relaxed state, expression neutral — “so you know.”

“know . . what?” your professor pulls away and walks around his desk, finally in close proximity to you like he’s always wished.

“how badly i want you.” he whispers, but doesn’t go past that, rather letting you figure everything out for yourself.

“‘. . fuck her silly, fuck all of those stupid facts out of her head’, right?” you mumble softly, not admitting to even chō that you had watched that livestream over and over enough to memorise the few sentences. geto wraps an arm around your waist to tug you closer, faces so close that you could just shut him up.

“go on.”

“you want me to go dumb on your cock,” professor geto mutters a correct which undeniably sends a thrill to your core.

“you want to hear me to moan your name.” “—want to hear her moan my name.”

a small smile spreads across his face (even if you left out the most important thing) as he finishes his own sentence with you, eyes clouded over with lust and your scent and he’s positive he can smell your soaked panties from here if he tries hard enough.

“that’s right.”

“sooo . .” by god, you fucking hated the man, but seeing someone stroke their cock to just the thought of you — how could you pass off such a good opportunity? “do you prefer professor geto, or suguru?”

geto groans at his first name usage, setting you on his desk and presses himself into you at the sound of papers flying to the floor, stationary falling to the ground. he can only hope no one walks in. he’s fully hard, loving how your legs naturally spread for him.

“whatever you want, baby.” and after, it’s all history with the way geto crashes his lips into yours, letting you pull at his jacket and shirt, practically ripping open the buttons to see his tattoos that you’re begging to see. slowly, he lets you trace them while he kisses down your neck, roughly pulling your sweater off of you. you have the cutest tits, packaged nicely in your bra which he has no trouble taking off. there’s a small sound that escapes his mouth when he unclasps your bra and your breasts come falling out.

“didn’t tell me you had such a nice pair . .” you giggle.

“yeah, like i would straight up tell my professor that.” with a hand, your hand follows the ink of his dragon that wraps around his body and torso, right down to his happy trail, “but i mean, you get the honour of seeing it now.”

with a squeeze to his bulge, you whisper, “maybe i’ll let you fuck them next time.”

geto lets out a little moan, “fucking minx,” before he latches his mouth onto your nipple, kneading the other greedily. a soft moan leaves your mouth as you knead his erection, a culmination of your combined groans in the quiet office. soon he’s giving attention to the other, a hand trailing down into your panties where he rubs your clit to test the waters, and he smiles into your skin at the way your hand falters and your head hangs forward.

“p-professor . .” it’s clear geto can’t wait, because he pushes a finger into you easily with how dripping wet you are, panties showing a dark patch of your juices. “s— so thick—”

“i know, baby, gotta stretch you out,” a soft pop! is heard as he comes off your nipple before he meets your lips in a sloppy kiss. he shoves his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushes a second finger in and he swallows your moans, letting you feel around his body to dig your nails in — it was just too damn much.

“so— suguru, your f-fingers, they’re so—” even with your protests, your hips grind up against his thick fingers that are pumping in and out of you, taking every last piece of fire in you as you succumb completely.

“what, miss (y/n)?” geto memorises the exact way all your previous blazing words are reduced to mere mewls and whimpers, alongside your pleas for more, more, more.

“i need something—” you whine when he pushes all the way inside, stretching your cunt so well as you clench around him like a vice and sucking him in, “i wanna make you feel good—”

you get at least a little resolve in the time it took you to say that, drunkenly unbuckling his belt before pulling his cock out. his tip is positively leaking, fingers curling instinctively in your pussy and your moans mingle together again.

“c’mon, prof, please?” geto tuts, reluctantly removing his fingers from your cunt which he wish he could spend more of his time in, but gives in to you as you switch positions, pushing him against his own desk. from there you’re going to your knees, marvelling at the cock you’ve watched on your very own screen.

“better than you imagined?”

you roll your eyes, “shut up or i’m blue-balling you.”

geto exhales forcefully, cut off when you put your mouth gently over his tip. you suckle on it like a pacifier, swirling your tongue around the mushroom head and looking up at him through your lashes; the sight is heavenly. the hair from his bun had fallen out, framing his pleasure-filled face, and the veins on his arms pop out so much from how harshly he’s grabbing the wood.

“f-fuck, baby . .” his words are lost once you start bobbing your head, encasing his shaft deep in your mouth as you suck and lick and slobber over his thick cock, using your hands to stroke the places you can’t reach. a choked moan weasels itself out of geto when one of your hands deviate to play with his balls, squeezing lightly at the sack while you continue to lick the underside of his length.

“take me like a slut, don’t you?” geto says breathlessly, fingers going through your hair to gather the strands into a makeshift ponytail, cradling your head to guide your mouth, but he soon starts to thrust into your waiting mouth.

“want me to fuck your dirty whore mouth?” your professor asks and you hate how much it turns you on as he brings you off to let you breathe for a moment. you stick out your tongue, big doe eyes just pleading to be used as your hands anchor themselves down to his belt loops.

“y—yes, prof., give me everything you got,” geto hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer as he taps your tongue with his tip, cock so heavy and thick it makes you whine a little before he shoves it in without warning. the moan that rumbles deep in your throat sends vibrations up his body and he starts a pace immediately.

“that’s it, that’s it—” you breathe through your nose as geto face fucks you, two hands covering the back of your head as he thrusts into your throat. your mouth’s just so damn warm and tight it has geto groaning non-stop while your eyes start to well up with tears. he uses you like a cocksleeve, abusing your throat each time his tip meets with it.

“fuuuckk— yes, yes, your throat’s so—” geto tilts his head back when he buries his cock in you, the deepest he’s ever been and your nose meets with his pubes, the smell of his musk and sweat making your eyes roll back in pleasure. suguru is all grunts before moving again, the gagging, gawking noises filling the small space.

“mmhm— mmf!” you moan around his length, trying your best to move your tongue along the underside of his cock. a hand goes down to quell the growing need of your cunt, slipping a finger or two in.

“dirty girl just can’t think straight when she has a— s-shit— cock in her, huh?”

you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering when you feel his tip twitch in your mouth and geto spills right into your throat with a long moan. your lids flutter close, taking as much cum as you can before coming off with a deep breath. strings of his cum and your saliva connect you to his cock, the lewdness of it all showing clearly in how sloppily you sucked your professor off.

“open.” and you show your tongue still full of his cum, taking the opportunity to lean down to let a ball of spit fall from his mouth. it drops painfully slow to your tongue, closing it only when you hear the rasp of swallow, “good girl.”

“think i’ve kept you waiting for too long, need to be in you,” geto brings you up by your upper arms, propping you up nicely onto his desk where you already start to leak into the wood, “do you want me to be in you?”

“only if you promise to stop picking on me, prof.,” you pout. really, a changed girl once you get some cock, huh?

“but you’re too cute not to bother, baby.” your pout deepens and geto feels a tug on his heart. oh, you were too adorable, knowing you’d kill him the next time he mentions this. he hopes they’ll be a next time.

“i mean it, suguru,” you murmur as he uses his tip to play with your juices, smearing it around your cunt. “treat me like a proper person.”

“can i at least treat you like a slut behind closed doors?”

you bit your lip, he’s asking for a next time, and who are you to reject him?

“whatever you want, professor,” you wiggle your hips along his cock, hoping for some friction which he grants to you with no problem, “use me. treat me like your cum dump.”

geto hisses at your tightness and your words as he bottoms out in you. he’s had your pussy once and already cannot get enough of you, moaning each time he moves in and out of your cunt. your walls hug him so snugly, sucking his cock in endlessly.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . your pussy’s so fuckin’— good—” he grunts into your ears, hips starting to thrust slowly into you. he swears he can see you in your tummy, asking you to look down, “look at how deep i am in you, sweetheart.”

you moan at just how big he was as you glance down, but you’re more focused on the way your pussy spreads for him, the cute veins on his length as he moves in you. you’re leaking so much that it’s effortlessly, the way he rams into you.

“sugu— suguru . . mmfuck—” geto groans upon feeling you rub your clit, your own hips bucking needily into his own as your juices start to drip down his balls. this was everything that he hoped would happen; your features morphed into pleasure, you descending into stupidity just from some dick, feeling your pussy, finally.

“hear yourself?” your professor proposes the question and you’re confused for a moment until he slows down and you whine at the sudden change, brought to attention just how soaking you were. the soft shlick, shlick, shlick sounds take your breath away, as with the translucent sheen of your juices coating his cock.

there, your professor resumes his pace, “hear how fuckin’ sloppy this pussy is for me. listen to her,” your senses are all overwhelmed: by how he hits all your sweet spots, the sweat on your back, your fast-beating heart and you let out a mangled whimper, “yesss . . that’s what i like to hear.”

geto smirks at how you can’t even answer, picking up his pace into a regular one. with his cock buried deep in you, you have no choice but to let your body move with his thrusts, jerking each time his balls meet your ass noisily.

“is this what the little lady needed? just some professor cock to get her to not be so damn uptight!”

“y—yessss . .” you’re delirious, “yesyesyes, suguru!” you squeal when he holds your legs up and pushes your legs into your chest, tongue lolling out at the deepness that he was in you.

“fucking slut,” geto mumbled, hips turning sloppy with fatigue taking over, but your cunt was just too good to stop, “where d’you want me to cum, baby?” he knows you’ll answer how he wants you to, especially after watching his livestream—

“i-inside— inside, pleaseplease,” the circles on your clit are messy, now, chasing your high more than ever, but your pussy is grasping onto him like a vice, prompting groans deep from his throat. “want your cum dripping out of me, prof—”

those words alone has geto shooting his load with a strangled grunt, switching to shallow, quick thrusts to pump you full of his cum. it comes out in hot, thick spurts, filling your insides more and more until it spills out the sides and you follow soon after, whole body convulsing from the intense orgasm you can’t stop shaking violently.

“take it— that’s it, attagirl,” he whines out, stroking his length to make sure you’re getting every last drop out of him, “take all my cum . .”

geto is sure he’s getting old by the way he feels lightheaded, having had to hold onto the edge of the table for a minute — but in that 60 seconds you’ve stumbled off the table and laid your chest over it, perking your ass up where your pussy continues to leak hot, white cum.

your professor takes one good look at your ass, hands going up to knead at them and spreads your cheeks. with his tongue, he eats his cum out of you, making your jerk at the sensitivity.

“oops, i’ve cleaned you up of my cum — guess i gotta give you a couple more loads,” geto props a leg up, eating you out, “it’s only right since my brightest student has suffered so much at my hands . .”

tagging @arminsumi @shidouryusm @suguruplsr @crysugu @slttygeto @suget @sonarspace @marimogf @hannzai <3 ok gn

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xfgpng · 2 years ago

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 -

— : [ nsfw ] yakuza boss toji, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, pet names, fluff (he’s very ooc with reader, sue me) + breeding kink and mentions of pregnancy

— : wc : 1.9k

when you were first introduced to the zenin clan, you were shy. your father and the head of the zenin family were close, the alliance going as far back to the early 1920’s.

you didn’t ask any questions and like the good and dutiful daughter you were, accepted from the age of 16 that you would be married into their family. you didn’t have any complaints, your parents and older brothers and sisters were always good to you and you felt honoured that your father had chosen you and not one of your sisters.

now, at 23, you were to be married to one of the sons who would rightfully take over the family business as soon as his grandfather passed on.

toji zenin

just looking at him made you squirm. he was big and intimidating and his smile made you feel like he was in on a joke that you didn’t get. still, he was beyond handsome so you had no complaints.

he was always soft with you, different from how aggressive you’ve seen him be to just about anyone else.

“come sit with me baby” he chuckles, watching you leaning awkwardly against the door to his private home office.

“are you busy?” you ask, walking around the large desk to stand next to his chair.

“never too busy for my wife” he smirks, pulling you to sit on his lap. he kisses your temple and then your cheek as he wraps his arm around you.

you can tell that he is actually busy. he has his laptop open and there are stacks of money packed in neat piles on the floor next to his desk.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, rubbing your arms softly. it wasn’t necessarily cold in his office but it was cold in the house and the big bed felt empty without your husband.

“not without you” you admit and he laughs. it’s not to mock you, he never makes you feel stupid for your feelings despite everyone telling you how mean and rude he was. you didn’t care, he treated you just fine.

“i’m sorry sweetheart” he sighs, “i’m almost done here”

“toji…” you say, trailing off. you’ve been thinking about this for a month now and you weren’t sure if he was just being nice or if he was just keeping you around to save face.

“what is it?” he asks, turning his laptop off to give you his full attention. he did feel bad for not sleeping with you but he was a busy man and he was still a newlywed. he wasn’t sure how to handle these things all at once.

“i just… do you not want me?” you ask, frowning slightly. you don’t mean to sound so desperate but you were married after all and he hadn’t even…

“what, where is this coming from?” he asks and he seems confused. he turns you in his lap so he can see your face. you really were so cute when you looked so shy.

“you haven’t tried to touch me” you pout, “i know you’re far more experienced than i am but i thought you’d —”

“y/n” he cuts you off, cupping your face gently, “i’ve wanted to fuck you since we were teens”

“hey!”

he laughs, kissing you. you really were the sweetest thing.

“i know you’re a virgin, i would never want to force you into anything unless you’re ready” he says, “and besides”

you look into his eyes and he’s smirking again.

“i’m big, i don’t wanna hurt you” he’s so smug and you’d slap him if you weren��t interested in finding out just how big.

you squirm in his lap, moving your hips against him and he grabs your waist.

“watch it” he narrows his eyes, “i’ll take that as an invitation”

“take me to bed toji-san” you flatter your pretty lashes at him and his jaw clenches. he really couldn’t give a fuck about finishing any work tonight.

“mark your words baby” he warns, scooping you up and heading towards your bedroom.

you kiss his neck, sucking marks into it. you weren’t always like this but you’ve seen the way people look at him and even though he was all yours, you had no problem reminding them that toji was a married man. he was off the market. he was yours.

he grins, titling his head to the side to give you more access and you moan, biting down. he grunts, slapping your ass before laying you down gently on your expensive silk sheets.

“i didn’t know my wife was so slutty” he scoffs, pulling his sweater off in one swift motion. the way he looks standing over you, big and bulky has you squeezing your thighs together.

he licks his lips, pulling your legs apart and leaning down to kiss the inside of your thighs.

“let me get you nice and ready for me yeah?” he bites your thigh in retaliation from your own marking and you gasp, legs falling open wider.

your pretty silk panties are damp and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“that excited for me already baby?” he teases, just to see you try to cover your pretty face with your pillow.

he kisses the inside of your thighs, watching as goosebumps arise. you were so sensitive and he liked that a lot about you. he reaches up to pull your panties down, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy glistening with your arousal.

you knew you were pretty, you’ve never doubted that but the way he looks at you, makes you feel so beautiful. you think your parents made the right choice when it came to toji.

he kisses your clit, earning a soft whimper from you. flattening his tongue against your pussy, he licks a long stripe from your slit to your clit, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud as he slips a wet finger into your tight pussy.

his thick finger feels different from your own but it’s still so good, so much better than you even imagined and you find yourself moaning louder for him, grinding your pussy against his face.

he grins, adding another finger before scissoring you open. it hurts just a little but you don’t want him to stop, the pain doing nothing to stop the tingling sensation you’re feeling all over your body.

“feels good baby?” he asks, licking his lips as he watches you fall apart beneath him. it’s so sexy, the way you squeeze and pinch your nipples.

you look so disheveled and fucked out and it’s all for him. he feels his cock throb and twitch knowing he will be the only person to ever see you like this.

“i’m ready for you” you whine, “please, i want it”

he’s too weak to deny you anything and it should scare him but he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth. a sweet thing like you had him wrapped around your finger and you probably didn’t even know that yet.

he strokes his cock a little, watching your eyes widen when you see just how big he is. you’ve never had sex before but you weren’t exactly innocent. you’ve seen porn and his dick was a lot bigger than the ones you used to see on your screen.

it has you unconsciously closing your legs.

“don’t hide from me sweetheart” he grins, “it’s all yours you know?”

he’s teasing you but he wasn’t wrong. all of toji belonged to you in the same way you were his.

he’s careful when he rubs his thick and veiny cock through your folds. you’re so wet and it helps ease the tension he felt. he would never hurt you unless you asked him to. he would do whatever you wanted.

“ready?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“yeah” you gasp, “want you”

you’ve wanted him since you learned what it was like to please yourself. a silly teenager who didn’t know the first thing about sex aside from what you were taught.

he takes his time, pressing into you. the stretch shocks you and it’s almost enough to distract you from the pain but it does hurt. when his tip pops through, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

he kisses you gently, whispering praises as he slowly bottoms out. his eyes widen when he looks down and sees the blood. he’s about to pull out when you wrap around legs around him.

he can see you crying but you’re also smiling. he knows it must feel uncomfortable for you but he mirrors your sweet smile.

“you’re so big” you moan, moving your hips on your own and he bites the inside of his mouth. you’re so wet and tight and your velvety walls welcome him home like he belongs.

“don’t” he groans, “please baby, i need a moment”

he slides out slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. he knows how big he is, he’s always taken pride in his body and he can’t help but feel smug about your moans and whines.

he moans, thrusting back into you. he knew it would feel good but this is nothing like he could ever imagine. he doesn’t want to think about the women he’s been with before you.

he was arrogant when he was younger, refusing to get married to you or waiting. he feels like a piece of shit whenever he thinks about you and how loyal you’ve been, despite his reluctance in the beginning.

“more” you beg, gripping his bicep with the hand that wasn’t gripping the sheets below you. your nails make crescent moons in his skin and he knows it’ll leave marks. he hopes it bleeds too, he wants to feel you all over.

he picks up his pace, enjoying the way your moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin is loud and he wonders if everyone in the house can hear you. he hopes so. you sounded so pretty, he would never get enough of you.

“i love you” he gasps, leaning down to kiss you. he feels you smile against his lips before you wrap your arms around his neck.

he slows down and he almost regrets it. he’s so close to busting his load when he hears you whine and then, “put a baby in me” you say, “fuck me full of your cum toji-san”

he bites your shoulder. he really needs to calm the fuck down. everything is so overwhelming and you’re just so perfect it makes him nervous.

he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. he’s fucked his fist to the idea of breeding you, stuffing your pussy with his cum until it leaks out but he wouldn’t stop, he’d keep going until you passed out.

“y/n” he warns, feeling your clench around him. you were playing a dangerous game and you clearly knew that. perhaps you did know the power you had over him.

“i want your cum” you plead, kissing his jaw and then his cheek, whispering right into his ear, “i wanna feel you for days, please”

he’ll make you regret messing with him like this.

“safe word” he whispers and he’s not sure why he’s even surprised when you don’t look confused or surprised. you smile so sweetly and oh so innocently up at him when you say,

“sōko”

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #yakuza toji #toji smut #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk toji x reader #jjk toji x you #jjk toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #jjk toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji x y/n

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san8ny · 6 months ago

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Knee Socks.

an: i got like 2 other works lined up, but here’s some slowburn, emphasis on burn; the smallesttt of nsfw at the end by ellie; ARCTIC MONKEYS REFERENCE?!

Ellie's gaze involuntarily flicks downwards, her eyes taking in the sight of your shorts riding up your thighs. She's mesmerized by the softness of skin, the curves of your body, the way you’re innocently watching the show— you, who was unaware of the perverse heat Ellie was supressing herself, rubbing her olive toned thighs together in an uncomfortable manner.

She wants to reach out and touch, but she knows that's the last thing she should be thinking about. She's already a mess of emotions as it is, and adding desire to the mix would only make things worse. Surely it wasn’t her fault to think like this?

"Are you comfortable?" Ellie rasps out, unable to help herself from asking the question, who wouldn’t? A pretty girl sprawled on her comically animated bedsheets, her plain black work shorts hugging her upper thighs, revealing soft inner-thigh pudge with little stickers of celllulite,

“uh-huh” you reply back sweetly, looking over your shoulder to where Ellie sits against the pillows near the headboard while you’re layed on your stomach near the foot of the bed, I’ll get a better view here you’d told her earlier when you two got back from work and began hanging out at her place. Oh, did she mention you two met eachother at work?

She still remembers the way she would follow you around everywhere when you were showing her around the place, teaching her the ropes. Ah, make sure you don’t get here thaaat late, ‘aight? Manager is pretty chill but she’s kinda bitchy during rush mornings, you’d said with warm eyes and a downturned smile right before walking away.

"Good," Ellie replies quietly, now being brought back to where you two currently lazed on her comforter. She can't help but also notice how your shirt has ridden up slightly, revealing the ittiest sliver of your lower back. She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes glued to the exposed skin. She wants to trace her fingers over the soft expanse of flesh, but she forces herself to stay still.

“When are they gonna kiss already?” You exclaim clearly edged on from the show, your elbows giving up as you face-fall fully onto the bed now; the fabric of your shirt slightly twists around your waist, “All this talk is making me wanna sleep.” you say muffled into the bed,

The said bed creaks ever so slightly as Ellie scoots forward, “That eager to see people make-out? Crazyyy..” She snorts, finding her hands lightly beginning to massage at your calves.

You melt into the touch, airily giggling as you back up into her alittle; it wasn’t uncommon for you two to massage each other after a long shift yall worked, We’ll save money you told eachother that day.

propping your head up, you lay it on folded forearms instead, the attention on the show is long-gone; all that could really be focused on was how skilled the auburnette was as she kneaded at tensed muscles; Had the temperature gone up? You groan when her hands roam up your thigh, now making their mark at somewhere that had been sore for time, a slightly healed injury you’d gotten during an accident at work where you pulled a muscle,

“Yeah? Right ‘ere?” She mumbles to you, readjusting her position on the bed to slightly hover over the back of your hips as she works deep circles into place you hadn’t even thought were knotted, “Mhm..” you hum back, glossy orbs now closed as you enjoy the sensational warmth that came over your body. God, she was a pro.

Ellie’s hands now began to climb to your hips, her thumbs drawing figure 8’s with the rest of her digits tightening a grip on your sides for a moment before letting them go in short pulses. By now, her face was lined up with the back of your neck, slight hairs standing up as she lightly blows at it; a cheshire smile on her stretched lips when she notices the scrunch inbetween your brows. She wanted you to feel this as much as she was,

“Feels s’good Els..” You sigh contentedly, fluttering your eyes open and turning your head slightly to the side as you look to where she was above you, her upper body fully now pressing, and laid on your back by now.

Ellie’s face was lightly flushed, canines biting down on her rosey, chapped bottom lip as they drew slight blood; How could feeling you up feel so good for her if she wasn’t even the one feeling it? The sight brought a small smile to you as you sat up, Ellie now seeing the initiative to sit back down on her haunches rather than her knees, and not on you importantly. You slightly lean in, brushing her slightly sweaty bangs away from her forehead; “Thank you for that. I really needed it.” You gently say, cupping her cheek before dropping it down to grab your phone, looking at the device,

“Ugh, ‘almost 12, I gotta get going. See you tomorrow at work?”

Ellie doesn’t even realize how dazed she looks before running a clammy hand down face in an attempt to wake herself up, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll pick you up actually.”

You nod as you two make yourselves out of her dark room, and into the dimly lit hallway, towards the front door, “Okay! Bye Ellie, I had fun by the way!” is what you tell her as you skip over to your car.

She doesn’t even say a ‘bye’ back before hastingly slamming the entrance shut, sliding down the door as she buries her face in her once balled up palms; she spreads her thighs slowly, noticing the growing wet spot on her shorts as it dawns on her what just has happened.

You had her so fucked up.

#Ellie williams #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams blurbs #tlou2 #The last of us 2 #wlw #i posted yippee #lgbtq #FANFICTIONNNN AAAAA

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v-hope · 6 months ago

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glad you’re missing TF bc me too, i wanna see them finally settling and knowing they’re ready for the next big step in their lives or even just discussing building a family after grad or when they’re at a good stage in their careers🥺🤧

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: slight angst, flufffff, established relationship, non-idol au

warnings: pregnancy scare, mentions of condoms, mentions of unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: um. hello after years lolll. i started going through very old requests in my ask box yesterday in case i found anything that’d bring some inspiration to my very uninspired self, and i found manyyyy tiger flower ones and this one in particular reminded me of a headcanon of mine that i never wrote nor mentioned (i think) but for some reason it was??? an actual Thing???? in my mind????? so yeah lol here i am. i don’t think anyone even cares about tiger flower (minus one person. u know who u are<3) anymore, BUT fuck it, i missed them and enjoyed writing this. i hope whoever reads it enjoys it too, bye<333

A pregnancy scare wasn’t something you were expecting only two months into moving in together after your graduation. It wasn’t something you were expecting at all.

At most, you and Jeongguk had agreed on getting a puppy as a new addition to your family of two. Said discussion happened when the two of you had only been together for a few months, a little over a year ago, where you both agreed on moving in together after you graduated college and then get a puppy right away.

Moving in together was not up for debate — you knew so the moment Jeongguk got a job in the last year of college and so did you, saving enough money to get a decent place and looking for apartments throughout the entire year, so you could secure a lease as soon as your previous ones ended. On the other hand, although you were still excited as hell to get a dog, once you were settled in your shared place, you were both too busy and overwhelmed trying to keep up with your new jobs and all the new changes in your lives to even think of adding another responsibility on top of them all, let alone one that had to do with a living creature.

If neither of you felt ready to get a puppy yet, how the hell were you supposed to raise a child?

Your heart beat so fast against your chest, you felt like you would pass out any moment, as you paced around the bathroom while you waited for the pregnancy test to tell you whether you’d bring another human being to the world in nine more months or not. Endless thoughts running through your mind as you did so, and you internally cursed at yourself for not having waited outside with Jeongguk instead — God knows you needed his arms around you to bring you comfort.

You definitely needed Jeongguk to hold you, you realised the second the alarm you set as soon as you took the test finally went off, managing to somehow turn it off with your shaky hands, and fighting not to drop your phone as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before taking a look to the test on the sink.

Once you earned enough courage to finally open your eyes and focus them on it, you exhaled all the air you didn’t know you were holding up until then — instant relief washing through your body.

Negative.

You were given another chance not to raise a child when neither of you were ready.

And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, empty even, now that said possibility was out of the way.

Although it was not the right time, a family with Jeongguk was something you’d always be happy about — and something you were only now realising you longed for way more than you thought you did.

Coming out of the bathroom and meeting a very distressed Jeongguk waiting right outside the door, you shook your head no right away, just like that letting him know you were on the clear this time around.

He let out a heavy, shaky sigh, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he processed the news, before he pulled you into his arms like you so badly needed him to — melting into his familiar touch and inhaling his scent as you felt yourself begin to calm down.

He said nothing, you said nothing. Your arms around one another and feeling each other’s comfort were all you needed right then.

Jeongguk didn’t let go until he felt your body stop trembling, only pulling away enough to rest his forehead on yours and cup your face in his warm hands.

“You okay?” He wondered; for a change, not being able to tell what the expression on your face meant right then.

He genuinely didn’t know whether you were relieved or not. And, therefore, he didn’t know how to react to the news. Yes, he had sighed in relief a minute ago, but that was as much as he’d let himself express until he knew how you felt about the whole situation.

You nodded, still a little bit stunned — not knowing whether you should say what was on your mind. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one in front of you, holding you. You knew you could tell him anything and he would understand, or at least try his best to do so.

“Is it wrong that I feel a little bit disappointed?” You finally mumbled, catching his attention. “I mean, I know we’re not ready, and we haven’t planned it at all and I would be so fucking terrified had it turned out positive, but, I just…”

“I get it,” he stepped up when he realised you wouldn’t talk anymore, gently reaching for your hands and holding them in his. “Of course I’m relieved we’re not having a baby right now, but… a part of me really wants to start a family with you now”.

“Now?” You playfully raised an eyebrow.

“Not now,” he panicked. “But, I mean, in the near future, but not that nea—ugh, you get it”.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle, biting your lip when he rested his head on your shoulder, embarrassedly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know,” you reassured him, running your thumb on the back of his hand. “I can’t wait to start a family with you either. It’d be cute, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded — one hundred percent on board with it, yet pensively.

Up until that day, you hadn’t really discussed your future together. It was more of a given. Unspoken, but you both knew you wanted everything with each other. From moving in together, to getting married, to having kids, to growing old together.

Maybe it was finally time for you to actually bring those thoughts up.

“What do you think is a good age for us to start trying?” Jeongguk wondered, his voice gentle as ever.

You puckered your lips as you pondered your options. “I mean, we’re only twenty three this year… Maybe in another two or three more?”

“Yeah…” he quietly agreed. “We still need to get the hang of living together on our own…”

“Getting a puppy…” you added.

“Save some money” Jeongguk considered.

“Get a bigger place”.

“Get married”.

You smiled at his addition, feeling the by now very familiar butterflies fill your stomach. Reaching your hand up to cup his cheek, you sweetly ran your thumb over the corner of his mouth.

“You wanna marry me?”

“I am marrying you, Y/N” he confidently stated, only to feel his cheeks burn the next second when he caught the way your eyes lit up. “I mean, if you’ll take me, of course…”

You giggled once again, this time throwing your head slightly back as you rejoiced at the new bit of information your boyfriend had just provided you with. “I am marrying you so hard one day, Jeon Jeongguk”.

He beamed, giggling against your mouth as he searched for it and trapped your bottom lip in between his smiling ones.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh of your own, wrapping your arms around his neck when he held you up by your thighs and took you to the sofa only a few steps away in your living room — not letting go of you for a second as he carefully lied on his back with you on top of him.

Lying your face comfortably on his chest, and running your fingertips up and down on it, you let out a contented sigh.

“So, kids sometime after we’re twenty six?” You returned to your previous conversation, before you got carried away by your desire to spend the rest of your lives together.

He hummed in response. “We should already have achieved all our previous goals by then, so I think it’s the most reasonable”.

“After twenty six it is then” you settled, smiling brightly when he reached for your hand and interlaced your fingers. “How many would you like?”

“Two or three would be nice,” Jeongguk confessed. “I’m okay with as many as you’re willing to have, though”.

“I always thought two… a girl and a boy” you admitted, feeling him smile against your head. “But I wouldn’t mind having three of them with you” a smile curved up your lips at the simple thought.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Two girls and a boy, or two boys and a girl…”

“What if it’s three girls?” You looked up at him.

“That’d be nice” he smiled.

“And if it’s three boys?”

“That’d be nice, too”.

“Mhm…” you squinted your eyes, suspiciously staring into his. “You want at least one girl so bad, Jeon Jeongguk”.

“I didn’t say that?” He defended himself.

“I can see it in your eyes” you playfully poked his forehead.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, tightening his hold on your hand to stop you from poking him again. “Well, sue me for wanting a mini version of you”.

Your heart melted, and you were pouting before you knew it. “I want a mini bun, too”.

“Too bad, we’re only having three girls now” he teased.

“Shut up,” you whined, slumping your face back down on his chest. “You just created a new need for me”.

Jeongguk’s chest trembled as a blissful laugh escaped his lips, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you almost found it hard to breathe. You would never complain about it, though, let alone when his lips began to pepper kiss after kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he said. “And honestly I’ll be happy with whatever sex they are as long as they’re ours and we raise them together”.

His words brought tears to your eyes and a lump in your throat, being apparently still too sensitive over the whole situation not to feel like crying when he said the most reassuring words you needed to hear.

“You’re gonna make me cry” you let him know, looking up to meet his doe eyes once more. “But I’ll be the happiest as long as that’s the case, too”.

Jeongguk smiled timidly, gently pushing your chin slightly up for your lips to come in contact with his; pressing a soft kiss on them before his arms were once again tightening their hold around your waist.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, nuzzling your hair.

“What for?” You questioned.

Jeongguk shrugged, fingers drawing small circles on your back. “For putting you through this…”

You chuckled, burying your face in his neck. “It takes two to make a child, bunny. Which we didn’t get to make, by the way”.

“I know,” he pouted, holding you somehow tighter against his body. “But last time I was too horny to go get a condom”.

You snorted. “Nothing we haven’t done before. We just tested our luck for the hundredth time and it backfired on us for once”.

Although you weren’t looking at him right then, you knew a pout had just formed on his bottom lip. You tenderly kissed his chest, in hopes of making the sad look on his pretty face go away.

When you felt him be distraught still, you decided to switch the mood a little bit.

“Still, I did have the scare of my life, so we’re going on a sex strike for a bit”.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, pulling you up by your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “You’re not serious”.

“I am” you stated, trying your best not to allow your lips to break into a smile. “One month at least”.

“At least?!”

“Aren’t you the one who went twenty one whole years without having sex?” You raised a teasing eyebrow. “This should be nothing to you”.

“Petal…” he whined, hiding his face in your neck. “It’s not the same now”.

“Why not?”

“Because I got a taste of it with you two years ago and I can’t control myself around you now, you know it”.

“Sucks to be you” you shrugged. “One month starting today”.

Letting out a defeated cry that could only have you finally releasing the laugh you managed to hold for so long, he rested his head back against the couch.

“Can this month end already”.

“So you’re just accepting your fate?” You were the one in disbelief now. “You won’t even try to convince me otherwise?”

“No, it’s up to you” he said, closing his eyes as he threw an arm over them. “If you don’t want me to touch you then I’ll just keep my hands to myself and suffer in silence”.

You half cooed, half laughed, not having expected such a touching answer to your playful question. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one you were dating; you should know better by now.

Removing his arm from his face, you pressed a brief kiss on his nose. “I love you, bun” you ran your fingers through his hair. “As if I’d be able to go a whole month without jumping your bones”.

“Now don’t say it like that” he laughed, throwing one of his legs over your body and making you lie on your sides now.

Properly face to face now, you cupped his cheek and gently caressed it as you rested your forehead on his. “Give me two weeks tops to shake the fear off my body?”

He nodded, lovingly bumping his nose on yours. “As long as you need me to”.

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littleheartsong · 7 months ago

Text

happy FUCKING birthday chilchuck

"Good job turning 30, Chil"

"Ugh, don't remind me"

Chilchuck buries his face in your chest with a grumble. He was never too thrilled about his birthday, it just felt like another day to him.

At least he was with you this year.

"Aw, don't be like that," you said while brushing your fingers through his hair, "You don't wanna celebrate with all your friends?"

He looked up at you with a dead look in his eyes, "Please don't tell me you invited everyone over"

The utter despair in his voice prompted a laugh to erupt from your chest, "Lucky for you, it's just you and me today" you press a kiss to the top of his head, "Buuuuuut there is something special happening today!"

Chilchuck hums in response, "Oh?" he begins before yelping in protest from getting moved off your lap, "Wh-hey! Where are you going?"

Your answer comes in the form of a gift getting pulled out from a secret hiding stash, "Just a little something, of course"

Indignation turns into a sheepish bashfulness as Chilchuck takes the gift from you, "Wow, you didn't have to get me anything" he scratches at the back of his neck to distract from the blush rising his cheeks.

"I know, but I wanted to" you press a kiss to his reddened cheek, "Now open it!"

He huffs, but opens the intricate package to reveal a bronze key.

"... Huh?" he looks up at you with creased brows, "What's this for?"

Now it's your turn to be bashful, "Ah, well," you shift on your feet, "You remember that little building we saw? The one you said would be perfect to start the shop in?" he nodded, his eyes widening in disbelief

You didn't, did you?

"I, uh, I had some saving set aside. Plus all that money we made from the dungeon. And I bought it. For you."

Chilchuck nearly drops the key, "You WHAT?!"

Cue awkward chuckle, "Yuuup, I know how you wanted to give at least half of the funds to your family, your daughters. I just wanted to help you out"

"This-this" he looks down at the key, "This is more than helping out!" he wants to lecture you on your spending, but his heart is leaping out of his chest, "You did this... For me?"

"Of course" you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Finally out of his stupor, Chilchuck launches himself at you. Burying himself in your abdomen in a hug.

"Thank you... Thank you..." his gratitude is muffled by pressing his face into your stomach, "I can't believe this, I can't believe you"

You lean down to return his hug with as much enthusiasm, "You know I'd do anything for you, Chil" you nuzzle into his hair, "I love you"

Pure joy radiates from his face as he looks up at you, cheeks flushed as he lets out a laugh, "I love you too"

You both stay embraced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being in each others arms.

"Oh, by the way, we're having you're birthday party tomorrow. We're going out to eat with everyone"

"Wait, what?"

#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dungeon mesh x reader #dunmeshi x reader #sorryyy if this is bad lemme know if theres any errors!

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velvet-paradox · 1 month ago

Text

Oops!

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female reader Summary: you accidently call Simon while taking care of yourself. (got inspo from lovi on twitter) Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW 21+ ONLY, strong language, explicit content, porn with very little plot female masturbation, male masturbation, descriptive actions, anal mentions, toy mentions, A LOT of dirty talking, detailed smut. ENJOY!!!

It's not that his phone is ringing in the middle of the night. It's not even the fact he'd just finally drifted off to sleep either. When he fumbled and grumbled, (of course he was grumbling) Simon Riley wrote the book on the Art of the Grumble you were certain, he was just relieved it wasn't Price. He was exhausted and was thisfuckingclose to telling the captain to pound sand if he had to pull another fifteen hour shift on base!

But no, it was not captain Price and it wasn't Johnny either. The screen of his phone stark white, taunting him in the dark of his room, as the time and your name and picture popped up. The one he'd taken of you and König in Vienna.

What was this about now? Simon huffed, dark blonde brows forming together. You better not be calling him from the bar again, needing a ride home, not trusting anyone else to swoop in to the drunken rescue. You saved money on Uber's and he got to look after you.

WIn - win.

" 'ello bird, what is it this time?"

Silence.

"Foxy, come on now, it's late. If you need a ride jus--"

"Oh yeah, oh that feels so good." You said through your teeth, hissing from a bit of a distance. What was that? Were you getting laid? Jesus H. You sounded breathless, out of it until some more rustling and now your voice wasn't so clouded in mystery.

You whined out something fierce which both confused and interested to the masked devil.

"Fox, can you hear me? Bird answer m--"

Another low whine followed by a low and quiet buzzing. "Oh fuck, I wish you were here. Oh fuck that feels so good, bet you would have a fucking ball using this one me. Oh Simon… please!"

He sat up quickly, his ear to the phone burning hot, a blush of discovery rising through his naked body, Ghost ran hot most nights, even in the winter months and said fuck it about four years ago and slept nude. Either you were having a decent fucking shag with another man named Simon, or you were thinking about him.

Well what have we here, you little sly little fox?

"So glad I got that princess plug, this feels amazing. Oh Simon, if you only knew, if you only fucking knew the things I want from you. What I'd let you do to me, what I want -oohhh fuck too much too much--" you cried and the buzzing stopped abruptly. You were panting and humming and without a second thought Simon's hand was stroking his waking cock through his sheets.

And just what did you want him to do? Simon bit his lip as he listened in, pulling his phone away only for a moment, making sure the volume was at it's highest before he put it on speaker.

"O-oh god, yeah. I don't wanna' cum again just yet! Want you to tease me, tie me up and make a mess. Mmmm maybe you'd make me clean it up too. I'd ride your fucking boots if you asked!"

Oh. Simon was not expecting that sentence or the filthy way you moaned, satisfied with saying it out loud.

"Can I? Can I L.T. can I ride your boots, I'll clean up m-my mess, I promise. Mmm, sitting under desk, your personal desk bunny you're," you really started breathing hard then, whimpering as he could now make out a wet, splotching sort of noise. Oh fuck- you were fingering yourself now. "Your fucktoy. Oh god! Yeah, I wanna' be your little fuck toy. Use me. Use my mouth, use my fucking pussy, I am so wet right now, oh shit!" You giggled wetly to yourself, gasping and Simon could only imagine you adding another finger into your spongy hole.

A fucktoy? boot riding? a plug in your asshole with fingers in your cunt? You were a nasty, freaky little thing. Oh this was better than any video he had watched recently! Interactive as he continued to stroke himself with you, the sheet had earned a wet pre-cum spot and had to be pulled away, Simon put his head down and spat on his cock, smearing his saliva around the girthy crown of it.

You were a dirty girl.

He loved it.

You were demure in the halls, paid close attention to detail, slick and sly when you need be, hence your call sign being Fox. You were quiet but funny, witty and no one had a bad word to drop about about you. Your lore on how you ended up with the 141 was something of legend, a myth that one day you just appeared like an apparition and no one questioned why. Just roll with it. You didn't cause trouble, kept your nose down but you knew things about each team member that soldiers could only dream of knowing. A book of secrets. Clearly.

Simon chuckled darkly to himself all the things you could come up with, possibly thing he hadn't even heard of. Simon wasn't into the BDSM scene, he knew a variety of knots of course but to use them on someone, never given the opportunity. As he spat on his cock again, the image of your face appeared. Maybe you liked to be spat on in too. The cute little whimpers and gasps you were doing on your end might suggest you like a lot more than just spit.

"Simon please! Bet you feel good, I know y-you're big, you'd stretch me out. Make me gape for you, oh fuck that's so hot!" You're erratic, your sheets are rubbing together faster and you're now on the verge of squealing like a stuck piglet. "Hold me down, pull my hair, those big fucking hands of yours on me, in me. Oh baby, finger me nice and deep, deeper than I can reach."

You wanted him so desperately and that made the lieutenant fuck his fist faster, slippery and noisy and wet. His hard cock just sloppily going up and down his shaft, he squeezed the mushroom cap like head of it, felt himself jerk and twitch before going hands free. Slapping it against his messy palm.

"Talk me through it baby, tell me what to do, how to do it. How fast, how slo-ow, oh yeah that's nice. Oh fuck I can feel it coming, I'm gonna' cum again. Shit." You grunted and made the most delicious sound Simon had ever heard in his whole damn life.

You were moaning, tapping the gem of the plug if he were correct.

Tap tap, tap tap.

"Oh yeah! Fuck my ass, finger my pussy, make me cum. Make me squirt, shoot your fat fucking load all over my face. I'll be your best girl, I swear it I swear it! I'm gonna' cum if I pull this out now." You cried, panting to your little hearts' desire. Simon was close too, he did his best to match your moans and sobs of pleasure, planting his feet and bucking his defined hips.

"I'd cum just about anywhere on ya', Foxy." Simon grunted quietly to himself. "Foxy fucktoy. Mmmm that does 'ave a bit of a ring to it, aye? Bad fuckin' girl."

You slapped something then. Your face, a tit perhaps, your pussy but you were whining and carrying on and Simon had to shut his eyes, imagining you working the princess plug in and out.

Oh for fucks' sake, he'd sell his left nut to see your pretty face, worn out, fucked out, in bliss and pleasure, sticking your pink tongue out. Eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck your fingers in tandem with his own fist.

"Gonna' cum oh shit, I'm gonna' cum again. For you. Only for you, sir!" He could hear your sloppy fingers plunging in and out of you pussy, faster and faster, louder and louder you became.

"Oh fuck yes, Simon! Yes, sir!"

You came with a shout, groaning and grunting behind your teeth. You sounded absolutely feral, pornographic. He couldn't hold it back any longer either, Simon bit into his cheek and came into his hand, it shot up and onto his stomach, muscles tight as he coaxed the last dribbling bits of cum onto his skin. He gave his palm a 'good game' type slap with his cock, laying back further into his pillows.

God damn.

"Fuck that was good. If only, if only you were here mmmm." You finally huffed out. You rolled over, to whatever side of your bed or maybe just readjusted yourself and your toys but he heard a clank of something and then your voice, clear as day. "What the fuck…oh my god. Oh no! Oh please don't be a voice note!"

Simon had to chuckle at your change in attitude.

"Oh for the love of… please be asleep. Pleasepleaseplease L.T. be asleep. I didn't mean to call --"

"On the contrary love," Simon held up his phone to his mouth, he heard you gasp on the other end. "I heard every last word and you sounded so damn fine. Bet you're glowing after coming so damn hard," you scrambled for words on your line, mumbling out a sorry excuse for an apology. He clicked his teeth at you like one would a horse. "Ah ah, Foxy. If there's a green Post-it on my door when I wake, your wish will be my command. And I am often fond of those aren't, Fox?"

"Very much so, sir."

"That's a girl. Now why don't you go get cleaned up and get some rest. Depending on your answer, soldier, you just might need it."

Simon chuckled to himself when he rose that morning, his entire door was covered with little green Post-its and none were the wiser when you passed each other in the mess hall.

#just a little something #love me some ghost even tho I don't write much for him #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine #cod fic #cod smut #cod imagine

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spidernuggets · 6 months ago

Note

i’ve had this idea for so long and i really feel like you can do it justice because i LOVE your writing style so…

reader that knows jason’s identity but he doesn’t know that they know, so reader keeps teasing him. i think it’d be ESPECIALLY good if reader goes out of their way to buy nightwing merch or talk about how red robin is their favorite

that’s just the main idea you have full creative license over it 🫶🫶

Jason Todd x Reader

def not doing this to avoid studying chem...

"Hey, Jay, lookie!" You called him over as you entered the door of your apartment.

Jason had his nose stuck in a book as you walked in. He turned his head over to see you with a cheerful smile and a little paper bag in your hand.

"What is it?" He asked, bookmarking his novel, carefully setting it down on the coffee table.

I quietly snorted to yourself, eager to see his reaction as you pulled out a little Nightwing plush.

"Isn't it so cute!" You cheered, practically shoving the blue and black toy to his face.

Jason mentally grumbled at the sight of the plush. "Is that supposed to be Nightwing? You chose the lamest vigilante, babe," he says as his eye twitches.

You shrugged. "He's not lame! If you think about it, his ass does look good in that suit," you smirked to yourself, knowing it would get a rise out of Jason. "And besides. I mostly only got him because the stores aren't releasing a Red Robin version for another month. So I'm gonna save up some money before them," you tell him, hugging the plushie.

It seemed as if Jason's face went comically red, as you mentioned his own brother's butt. He wanted nothing more than to throw the plushie out the window, rip it apart, set it on fire. Anything to get your hands off that damn doll.

"They sell Red Hood plushies!" He tried not to complain. "Why not buy them? It's better use of your money," he grumbled, folding his arms together.

"I don't really like Red Hood," you carefully said, watching every twitch of his reaction while petting over the Nighting plush.

Jason felt like a bullet went through his heart, and he felt like hunching over to clutch his chest in agony.

"Why not! He's the best one!" He said in disbelief as you tried not to laugh over his reaction.

You shrugged a shoulder. "I dunno. He's just not a favourite of mine. Althought the thigh holsters looks great on him, woo!" You cheekily smiled, fanning yourself with your hand and biting your bottom lip as you put the plush away.

Jason felt heat rise up in his neck at the comment, ready to just blurt out that he was, in fact, the Red Hood.

"Maybe it's the giant red helmet that throws me off," you tap your chin, pretending to think as Jason made a mental note to have his helmet potentially be redesigned.

"His big red helmet is the best part.." Jason muttered to himself as he slumped on the couch. And you could've sworn you saw a pout form on his lips.

"Anyways, this toy is gonna be a great part of my collection!" You cheered as Jason perked up.

"Collection? You have more?!" He asked, disgust written all over his face as you tilted your head to the side.

"Well.. no, but I wanna start one! Oh! And I want to start a collection for Red Robin, too! I saw somewhere that they're selling a similar costume online!" You say excitingly. "I might be his biggest fan," you say while suppressing a laugh.

Jason was now on his feet, standing right in front of you. "Why not be Red Hood's biggest fan?" His pout was way more obvious now. You were surprised that he wasn't more discreet about it.

"Why are you so caught up with Red Hood?" You asked innocently.

"Uh, let's see. He's skilled, he's smart, he's strong, he's muscular and he's gorgeous!" He practically yelled as he towers over you.

You rested a hand on your hip as you leaned on one leg. "How the hell would you know he's gorgeous? He never takes his helmet off," you asked, rasing an eyebrow.

"Well- I- You know, he-" you giggled as he stammered and tripped over his words.

You decided to finally put him out of his misery, standing on your tio toes as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Calm down, lovely, I know you're Red Hood," you muttered against his skin.

Jason's brows scrunched together, pushing you back. "Wait, wait, wait- you knew?! And you didn't tell me?" He said in absolute shock.

"I wanted you to tell me at your own time.. but at the same time, I wanted you to tell me sooner since someone keeps showing up late to our dates for some unknown reason," You raised an eyebrow at him, not pleased with the fact that he was recently showing up pretty late to some of your dates because of his patrols.

Jason awkwardly chuckled while scratching the back of his neck. "Uh huh.. yeah- I'm.. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to be late, baby," he muttered. But you quickly placed a soft peck to his lips.

"It's okay. You can make it up to me," you smiled in reassurance.

"But - but how did you even find out? How long have you known?"

"Uhh.." You looked up, trying to remember. "Around two months ago? And you left your holsters here. You know. The one that looks real good on your thighs," you smirked, leaning up to him as you teased him.

The heat returned back to Jason's neck, now reaching up to his ears. "Fuck.. I left them here? There weren't any guns in them, were there?" He asked with concern.

Your hand caressed his cheek. "No, don't worry. I kept the holsters in your closet."

Jason kissed your forhead as a soft thank you.

"So.. are you actually gonna keep that plushie?" He asked, referring to the Nightwing plushie you bought, a rumbling of jealousy rising in him.

You snorted as you shook your head. "No, I kept the receipt. Besides. It doesn't go with my collection."

His brows furrowed. "Collection?.."

You smiled, taking his hand and bringing him into your bedroom. You opened the closet and reached to the back, pulling out a big, brown box.

Upon opening it, the lid flew open, hardly abke to keep in the many plushies, figures, and clothing items, all based on Red Hood.

Jason's jaw dropped as he looked at all the Red Hood merchandise that you kept.

You pulled out a brown leather jacket that had the red bat symbol at the back of it.

"I've waited forever to finally wear this around the house." You say, putting on the jacket, giving Jason a twirl as yoh showed it off.

Jason breathed out a chuckle, placing his hands on your hips, pulling you close. "You look good, babe," he mumbles, his nose tickling yours. "Should wear it more often," his voice dropped, a suggestive tone laced within it.

You smirked back. "Yeah, that was the plan."

MAN HAVE I MISSED WRITING

okay, back to studying because i can practically hear Missy telling me to go study

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incendiobrock · 9 months ago

Text

Boneyard Bash {JJ Maybank}

Summary: A twist to the boneyard scene where instead of JJ offering Sarah a drink, Rafe offers y/n one. This doesn’t sit well with bf JJ and a fight ensues but the gun is pulled on the wrong person.. ;)

Warnings: gun violence, language, physical fighting, drinking, smoking, slight mention of blood

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

The past twenty-four hours consisted of a lot of concocting and illegal activities that you would rather not list out. You see, when John B, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and you run into a sunken ship, and the police won’t listen to you when you try to report it, matters are taken into your own hands. What started as a plan to figure out who’s Grady White sunk during hurricane Agatha- has turned into a money ring.

“Can we please take a break from the illegal, money scheming antics? We’ve been at it all day, and I’m still dead serious about getting caught, I can not lose my scholarship!” Pope spoke, eyeing each and everyone of you as you sat around on the porch of the chateau. Kiara quickly agreed, John B and JJ almost getting caught at the motel was enough for her.

“Either way is fine with me.” You stated, taking a hit from the joint that JJ had just rolled, blowing out the smoke and instantly feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You passed the joint back to your blonde boyfriend, allowing him to get a few hits of it as well.

“We could hit up the boneyard?” John B suggested, a quizzical expression playing on his face. He knew that his friends never passed on the idea of throwing a kegger.

“Now we’re talkin!” JJ cheered, his arm finding its way over your shoulders as you snatched the joint back from him. After your last hit you put out the bud, twisting the burning end into the wood of the porch, ultimately saving the rest for later. You all got up from your spots, heading over to the twinkie so you could pick up a couple kegs before heading to the abandoned part of the beach.

---

The drinks were starting to hit you after downing two, and sipping on a third. Your body swayed to the music playing as a fire slowly burned in the background. You and Kiara had been dancing for awhile, talking about all the things that you never spoke of with the three boys. You were thankful that Kie was there, she was the one that made sure you kept hold of a little bit of your sanity. Out of ear shot, JJ sat next to Pope on a piece of old driftwood that had been washed to shore. His eyes watched you as you let out a laugh in response to something Kiara must’ve said, pure bliss radiating off of you.

“Dude, you’re starring hardcore at y/n.” Pope chuckled, nudging his shoulder. JJ grinned, shaking his head a little as he looked down at his lap. He had a red solo cup in hand, also feeling the affects of all the beer he had consumed so far this night.

“I can’t help it Pope, I’m in love with her.” JJ responded, looking back up at you as the fire cast its light across your face, making you glow like a true goddess.

You glanced over your shoulder, blushing as you made eye contact with your boyfriend from across the way.

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the wanna be Pogue and the Pogue princess dancing around the fire on this fine evening.” A voice spoke from behind you. You felt your smile instantly leave, recognizing who the voice belonged to without having to even turn around.

“What do you want Rafe?” Kie asked, crossing her arms over her chest, sending death glares at the number one asshole in all of the OBX. Rafe scoffed, running a hand through his preppy, annoying, rich hair.

“I actually didn’t come over here for you, as if that’s any sort of shock-” He spat, a red solo cup sloshing around beer as he used his hands for emphasis. “-I really only came over here to offer y/n a drink.” He finished his sentence, extending the cup out to you.

“No thanks, I think I’m good.” You said rolling your eyes and turning your back towards the Kook. Despite you constantly trying to shut Rafe down, he would continue to talk to you any chance he got. All the Pogue’s had picked up that he had some sort of weird fascination with you, and it drove JJ mad. He hated that Rafe was constantly up your ass, despite the numerous times you told him you weren’t interested. JJ knew you could handle yourself, but it also just made him upset because you are his girl, and no one could get in the way of that.

“Oh come on... Where’s that little Pogue boyfriend of yours? Did he get himself thrown in jail yet?” Rafe pushed, causing you to turn back around.

“He’s right here you dipshit!” JJ yelled, quickly walking up to Rafe and punching him square in the face. You and Kiara both gasped, watching as Rafe almost instantly fought back. He took ahold of JJ’s shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grasp, and throwing his towards the sand. JJ fumbled slightly, his back hitting the ground relatively hard, but he managed to get back up and tackle Rafe to the ground as well.

“Rafe! Leave him alone!” You cried, watching as Rafe threw multiple punches at JJ’s face. He was lucky that he had been able to dodge a few of them. Before you knew it, John B, and Topper had joined in too. Each boy standing up for their respective friend but ultimately just creating a bigger fight.

Topper and JJ were now the ones who were throwing punches left and right, John B struggling to pull them apart from each other. You had almost had enough of all the fighting, storming towards the four boys, a little unsure of what your game plan was. “Hey! Stop it!” You yelled out again, watching as JJ had once again hit Topper, his nose now gushing blood. Rafe broke away from the boys, coming straight to you and pulling you against him to where your back was flat against his chest. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, your neck being trapped between the bend in his arm, keeping you snug against him. His right hand raised up, a cool touch of metal being placed against your temple.

Your body instantly froze, although you had never found yourself in this situation before, you weren’t stupid. Rafe had a gun. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had the chance to try and fight back, and now you sure as hell weren’t going to. Who knows whether Rafe would actually use the thing or not...

“Maybank! You better get your dirty Pogue hands off my friend! Or else!” Rafe said, the gun shaking against your temple as his voice rang out. JJ’s eyes immediately shooting over and seeing the tears forming in your eyes as Rafe’s gun was pressed flush against your head. Your hands were clutching onto the arm that Rafe was using to hold you in place, using him as support as your legs trembled beneath you.

“Let her go man! This doesn’t involve her!” John B said, coming closer to the two of you. Panic written across everyone’s face, even Topper seemed scared.

“Don’t come any closer! Tell them princess, if they come any closer I’ll shoot this gun right through your skull.” Your body shook, struggling to catch your breath as tears streamed down your face. Your eyes never lost sight of JJ’s as he stood and watched, trying to calculate his next move. Any alcohol in any of your systems was now long gone, feeling more sober by the second due to the severity of the situation at hand.

“Please- just let me go...” You chocked, begging Rafe to stop. You had seen him angry before, especially towards you guys, but never to this degree. You could tell he was enjoying it too as he chuckled to himself.

“Next time, maybe you should just be nice and accept my drink. That way we don’t have to end up in a little fight, alright princess?” He whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair. You gulped, nodding your head up and down, hoping that this would be the end of his threats. “Good.” He whispered again, releasing your body from his grip and removing the gun all in one motion. You landed on your hands and knees, gasping for more air.

JJ rushed to your aid, dropping down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands, causing you to look at him. “Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you baby?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly, tears now filling his icy blue eyes. You shook your head ‘no’, unable to form a sentence. JJ helped lift you into a sitting position, cradling you in his arms. He rocked you slightly, running a hand through your hair, trying to help you even out your breath.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, the tears finally breaking their seal and gliding down his face.

“I thought you were too.” You replied, letting out a strained chuckle. He smiled, relieved to hear your voice again. He took ahold of both of your hands, allowing you both to stand back up.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kiara said, coming to your opposite side, nodding towards John B and Pope. You both agreed, following her and the others back towards the twinkie. JJ held a firm grip around your waist, not ready to let you go again after what Rafe had almost done to you. You leaned into him, thankful that you hadn’t died.

Once all five of you were back in the twinkie, and you were laying against JJ’s chest, he spoke once more, “If he ever puts a hand on you again he’s dead.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #Outer Banks #obx

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anystalker707 · 5 months ago

Text

don't let me go

Pairing: Sam Monroe x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: he confesses his feelings to you, but he's a lot softer than you thought Tags: comfort / he's puppy coded (normal) / he's also whiny (normal) / giving him a piercing, but it's brief / he cries a lot a/n: self-indulgent fic, and @sw33tsuccubus wanted to read it <3

MASTER LIST

The tips of my fingers felt something between numbness and a stinging pain while I pressed the ice cube wrapped up in a gauze over Sam’s eyebrow until he sighed, staring at me.

“It’s enough,” he said with that bad humor of always.

“If you keep being annoying like that, I’ll never do you another favor,” I sighed as well, putting the ice cube inside an empty glass on the nightstand, but he didn’t seem unsatisfied, snickering.

“You know very well that you will, independent of how ‘annoying’ I am,” Sam continued, following the needle with his eyes.

I shook my head. “Wanna test?” And he didn’t have time to answer, his words being replaced by a hiss the moment the needle pierced his skin, going in under his eyebrow and reappearing a few millimeters above it. “Done,” I said, carefully putting the barbell in the needle’s place and cleaning the area around the new perforation with a humid piece of cotton.

It sounded like Sam had been holding his breath for a while, exhaling heavily while letting his head hang, forehead pressed to my shoulder, while I discarded the needle and the cotton in the glass, with the ice. It wasn’t safe or anything, but it was what we could do when Sam had no money on him.

“Let me see.” I pulled away a little, just enough to look at his face, watching his cheeks, normally pale, now slightly flushed.

Sam tried to arch an eyebrow but suppressed the movement whilst grabbing a small mirror from the bedside table and taking a brief look at his new piercing. “It’s good.” He looked at me again, moving to sit on my lap, straddling it, and kissed me on the forehead. Curious. I rolled my eyes. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” I said, nodding, giving him a light tap on the thigh. He had a few tears in his eyes. I wiped one away before it fell from his eye and ruined his eyeliner.

The new piercing suited him very well, overall. Something that had been missing. Silver was a color that really complemented him—it was on the chains that hung from his neck and over the worn-out band shirts, and also on the ones that fell from his belts that were practically useless on the large pants that were always low enough to show the hem of his boxers and the circumference of his hips. The silver of his earrings and the labret under his plump lip contrasted fantastically with the black eyeliner, same color as his short air, save for the blue strand.

“It hurt like a bitch,” he muttered with a sigh.

“Well, I told you that I’m not exactly a professional or something,” I chuckled. “But it’s not crooked or bad. You just gotta care for it now. I’d give it a little kiss to make it better, but I don’t want it to get infected,” I chuckled again.

Sam clearly wanted to laugh, but he masked the laughter with a scoff and gave my shoulder a light pat. “Stop being stupid,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes, and he was so beautiful like that. I would’ve kissed those plump lips if I could. I didn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone that beautiful. He adjusted his position on my lap to make it more comfortable for us, almost resting his head on my shoulder again before he looked me in the eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

The question was useless, really. Sam already knew a lot of personal things and could practically ask about anything, but I only nodded, muttering in agreement. My hand hovered over his thigh, tracing the logo of a band patch he’d sewn there. Very poorly.

The silence made me look at his face again, and Sam poked his labret with the tip of his tongue, his cheeks still flushed. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally exhaling and speaking up, his voice trembling slightly. “What do you think of me?”

It was hard to tell, even harder to act as if I weren’t a deer caught in headlights—a situation that only existed inside my mind, worst of all. I sighed, shaking my head. Sam was so many things. Why did he need to know that?

“Ah, dunno. You’re one of the coolest people I know.” I paused to think. “You have a great style. Smart. Cute, too. I didn’t think I’d have the patience to be friends with you, but we hit it off pretty well.” We had different backgrounds, obstacles, but it never seemed to be much of an issue. “I like you a lot, as a person, y’know.”

A crease appeared between Sam’s eyebrows until he slowly averted his gaze and pressed his lips together. “Cute? Really?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re like a puppy, sometimes. In a good sense, of course.” I shrugged lightly and leaned back against the headboard.

Sam bit his bottom lip, playing with his labret again, a loose thread of his jeans between his fingers. It wasn’t really possible to identify the expression on his face, but there was an air of annoyance. Maybe. “A puppy? I think you already called me something like that when we first met.”

I smiled. “Yeah, of course.” I hooked my finger around the ring of the black collar that involved his neck and tugged lightly, noticing the light hitch in his breath.

“For fuck’s sake, if you keep doing that all the time, I’ll go insane!” Sam’s eyes widened while he took my wrist and lowered my hand, but he still held it, between us.

“Poor thing,” I chuckled, shaking my head. Sam’s hand was warm and kinda soft. His rings were pretty silver bands, darkened through time, around bony fingers, suiting him well.

Despite grumbling, Sam didn’t say anything. His attention was in tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I didn’t like the silence hovering between us. I wanted to hear his voice more.

“Why did you want to know what I think of you? Afraid that I secretly hate you or something?” I smiled, observing our hands. “If that’s really the reason, I’m just kidding. I also feel like people secretly hate me, sometimes, so I’m not judging.”

Sam chuckled in disbelief and shook his head. “No,” he said, gulping. “It’s not that. It’s just… Dunno, I like knowing what you think about me.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “Fair.” I sighed. “Does your piercing hurt?”

Without looking up, Sam squeezed my hand lightly, taking a while to answer. “Uh?” His blue eyes finally met mine. “Ah, it’s not that bad, only sore.” He moved his eyebrow lightly and clearly regretted it. It was a little swollen already.

I only nodded. Of course, he knew how to deal with that, with all the piercings he already had. His hand squeezed mine lightly again while he adjusted his position on my lap.

“Another question.”

“Shoot,” I said.

“Hypothetically,” Sam started, “if a person has been secretly in love with someone else. For years. Should they confess?”

I sighed. It was a difficult topic. I leaned back against the headboard once more, leaning my head back against it, and shrugged. “Is it better to speak or to die?” I had heard that somewhere.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like a threat,” he chuckled, playing with his rings, transferring one from his hand to mine. “So, what you’re saying is that it’s better to speak?”

I breathed a chuckle. “Ah, yeah. Totally a threat. If you don’t confess, someone will show up and stab you. And it counts for everyone.”

And Sam chuckled, too, seeming calmer now. He rolled his eyes, smirking. “No need to threaten like that. I don’t have a deathwish,” he joked and paused. “You’re avoiding the question.”

I sighed again, avoiding his gaze for a moment, drumming my fingers against his thigh. “I know. Like, it’s just that I don’t know. I’m one to suffer in silence. I don’t want to tell someone to confess and be hypocritical.”

Sam took a moment to answer, seeming to ponder what I said, pouting. “Hypocritical,” he accused in a whisper, squeezing my hand.

I chuckled, nodding. “I am.”

“A coward,” he insisted, with a smirk.

“I am,” I agreed again. “I’d rather die.”

Sam asked me if I really loved someone intensely enough to prefer dying with my feelings to confessing and having them rejected, but how could I not? People are infatuating, and I had an aching heart. I had a whole universe inside me. I felt too much, saw too much, heard too much, and everything just for because I was breathing and being alive. Anyhow, I could and wanted to love that intensely.

His next doubt was about why I wouldn’t confess if I loved people that much, but feeling too much is a double-edged sword. Too much love also meant too much sadness, and letting the love fade away seemed easier than reconstructing myself again and again after every wreckage.

Sam seemed angsty, brows furrowed, and lips pressed together while he held my hand tightly, as if afraid of something. “You say pretty things.”

I chuckled. “They’re just messy words.”

“Don’t talk like that. It’s not messy…” Sam said, seeming like he was going to add to it, but nothing ever came, so I just kept in silence for a moment, looking into those beautiful blue eyes, playing with his fingers between mine.

“Well,” I broke the silence, my shoulders dropping while I smiled, “if you say so…”

A hint of despair flickered in Sam’s eyes, but I didn’t really know what to do with that. What kind of despair was that? What if I scared him? His hand shifted against mine, still holding it.

“You can’t just sit there, being poetic and holding my hand, and expect me to answer so eloquently,” Sam murmured with a pout.

I shook my head. “I only expect you to be yourself.” I squeezed his hand.

A lot of things seemed to be going on inside his head, and I asked myself why. I liked making someone like Sam—all sulky and tough—turn into a mess with me, even if that occasionally gave me a sense of guilt.

Sam gulped. “You’re making this hard for me.”

I raised my eyebrows in curiosity and a bit of surprise. “Huh? Hard? What for? Why?” I tilted my head to look at him in the eyes as his gaze fell again.

“You keep saying that poetic and romantic stuff,” Sam said sharply. “And I’m just sitting here, wanting to tell you something, but I’m afraid you’ll rip my heart out.”

I widened my eyes a little and chuckled but in disbelief. “Rip your heart out?” I scoffed. “Why would you expect that from me?”

Sam contained himself, grumbling. A faint pain spread through my hand, given the way his nails sank into my skin. “I’m being serious, and this is not funny,” he said, trying to keep his voice firm and steady. “So stop mocking me.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “I’m not mocking you,” I tried to keep my voice soft, in contrast. “I’m trying to understand you.”

His face got redder each time. Was he that angry or annoyed? His eyes scanned my face, looking for something that I didn’t know what to be. He was panting a little. “Promise not to laugh?”

The question was childish, but I wouldn’t make things even more complicated now. “I’d never laugh at something that’s serious for you,” I said, trying to seem casual, shrugging, however, my heart hammered in my chest as I gently caressed his hand.

Nodding short and fast, Sam exhaled, humming. “Okay. You can’t laugh, alright… I’m being serious,” he said, straightening his posture and taking a deep breath.

I nodded. I had to keep calm. Be patient. “I won’t laugh. I won’t get angry. I won’t distance myself,” I reassured, holding his hand between mine.

“You won’t hate me?’

“I’d never hate you.” I smiled. “The sooner you say it, the easier it’ll be. It gets harder the more you overthink.”

Sam huffed. “You’ll say something mean after this. Gonna tell me off.”

“No, Sam, it’s clearly a sensitive topic,” I said and paused, taking a deep breath. Keep calm. “Of course, I won’t say or do anything mean. I want to know what’s going on and help you. If you want it, that is. Maybe just listen. I’ll continue here, anyway.” I made an effort to look at him in the eyes the whole time.

Sam seemed a little more desperate, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down. For a moment, I thought he would faint, but he kept sitting there, on my lap, holding my hand, breathing shakily. “I’m in love. With you.” He whimpered, eyes glassy.

My heart skipped a beat. Everything stopped. I looked at him in disbelief. Did I hear it wrong? “Huh, in love with me?” I repeated, like a fool. “You don’t have to cry about it,” I whispered, wiping a tear away before it ran down his face and ruined his eyeliner. He almost trembled in stress.

For some reason, Sam furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Stop with that! Stop being so patient!”

My mind blanked for a moment. Why wouldn’t I be patient with him? What else did he expect? I wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling Sam closer. “What’s it, Sam? What’s wrong?” I wiped a few tears away from his face but didn’t stop him from crying his feelings out. It was a rare occurrence, and it seemed to be exactly what he needed, practically melting into my arms.

Sam clung to me as if he depended on it, hiding his face in my shoulder. His shoulders started to shudder, and he sobbed. “Why are you acting like that?” He sounded angry.

“Like what?” I almost scoffed. I don’t know how he wanted me to act. Maybe say something mean, laugh, reject him, or distance myself, as he feared, but as he was used to. Not a lot of people genuinely liked him. “I’m taking care of you. Am I supposed to stop?” I rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him.

He whined and sobbed again, arms tightening around me. “No. Don’t stop,” Sam said quietly, voice muffled against my shoulder, and I exhaled in relief, despite not understanding everything.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” I whispered.

Sam seemed to be falling apart while crying and sobbing, clinging, and squeezing me. His face was hot against my neck, making it humid with the tears and heavy breathing, but it was irrelevant. I held him close and squeezed him back, letting him cry out all he needed to and enjoying his presence. I pressed my nose against his hair and closed my eyes momentarily.

Slowly, his sobs were replaced by light whimpering and shallow breathing, and his face wasn’t so close to my neck anymore, though he still held me strongly. The tears were drying, the silence growing louder. “Please,” Sam whispered. His breath tickled my neck. “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.” I kissed his temple, letting my lips linger against his damp skin. He closed his eyes. Made a quiet, needy sound.

“I can’t handle you being that caring with me. Fuck.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Why, my love?”

Sam tensed up again, his eyes filling with tears once more, as he held me tighter. He took a while to answer. “Makes me want to kiss you.”

A chuckle escaped my lips easily. “Then let’s kiss. What’s stopping us?”

A look of disbelief took over his face as he pulled away, just enough to look me in the eyes properly, with his eyeliner all smudged. He seemed smaller like that. Fragile. “Kiss me.”

And it didn’t take me a lot to do that. It was like a dream becoming true, making my body tingle when I felt his lips against mine, and I cupped his cheek, caressing it lightly. His skin was still hot. I finally felt the sensation of kissing those plump lips. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity, and I wanted it to last for another, but our lungs objected.

The cold air substituted Sam’s hot breathing against my face when we pulled away. I tried to clean away a little of the smudged eyeliner with my thumb while he looked at me with a mix of emotions, with passion, disbelief, anxiety. It was like he was in a daze.

“Everything alright?” I looked at him in the eyes, watching him glance at my lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam mumbled. His hands were closed tightly around my shirt.

I smiled. “My boy,” I mumbled with a peck against his lips, and it seemed like Sam would fall apart in my arms at any moment. It was hard to see him like that, all needy and shy, but I liked it. So lovely.

Sam wrapped his arms around my neck, holding firmly, taking deep breaths to slowly calm himself down. “Don’t let me go, okay?”

“Of course not,” I chuckled and pecked his lips again. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Is that okay?” I kept giving him little pecks, trying to find out how much I could make him melt just with that, rubbing his sides.

His lips curled up in a shy smile while he nodded. “Say it again.”

“I am yours,” I repeated and kissed him, letting it last a little longer, “and you’re mine.”

Sam almost whimpered. We couldn't possibly get closer to each other, but it didn’t keep him from trying, wrapping his legs around my waist. “Hold me tighter.”

If I held him as tightly as I wanted, maybe I’d break Sam, so I held back, nuzzling his nose before kissing him again and again. “Mine, all mine,” I whispered. I had waited for too much time to say that.

⋆°｡⋆🎧🎸★ 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

#hayden chistensen #sam monroe #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #sam monroe x reader #life as a house #fan fic #fan fiction #anakin skywalker

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cal-flakes · 1 year ago

Note

please write more dealer!rafe idc what it is about i love that dynamic it was so cute !!!

you’re so real for this. i am LIVING for dealer!rafe right now. eeeeeeek

╰┈➤ saved by dealer!rafe

warnings: drugs, violence, weapons, death. possible tw; implied sa (no description as it doesn’t actually happen)

summary: doing a favour for dealer!rafe takes a dark turn.

“wait, can you run me through it again? please? just one more time?” sighing, rafe cupped her face. “princess, you really need to remember this for me, okay?” y/n nodded, the innocent look in her eyes almost making rafe feel bad for asking her.

“barry here..” rafe pointed “is gonna take you with him to a deal, all you gotta do is sit and be extra pretty, okay?” he explained, his patronising tone going straight over her head.

y/n thought hard about what he said, nodding her head as he spoke. “okay!” she beamed.

“alriiiight, come on little girl, gotta be there on time..” barry sang from the corner of the room, sighing as he stood from the couch.

“yes sir!” she squealed, not really understanding the danger of what she’s about to do.

rafe squeezed her tight as she wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a few kisses to his cheek.

loosening his grip, he peered over her shoulder to adjust her skirt, disgruntled by the short length.

she pulled away and followed barry to the door, a pep in her step.

“man i swear, if you let anything happen to her i’ll fucking kill you” rafe stated, pointing a threatening finger at his friend.

“chill out man, i’ll keep your little princess safe” barry mocked him, holding his hands up.

y/n situated herself in the passenger side, wincing slightly as her thighs stuck to the leather. the drive to the cut was comfortably quiet while y/n wracked her brain for what rafe wanted her to do.

barry glanced at her through his peripheral, sniggering to himself as she looked lost in thought.

“you forgotten already huh?” he smirked, mocking her. bowing her head, she nodded to the ground, picking up on his tone.

“all you gotta do, is sit there. okay? you sit there and don’t say a word, you’re just here to sweeten the deal. if they say anything to you, just be nice..” barry stated, gesticulating as he spoke.

“okay, just sit there..” y/n muttered to herself as they closed in on the porch.

the house, or shack, wasn’t anything y/n was used to. she wasn’t particularly stuck up, she had just never spent much time on the south side of the island, and that was set in stone once she got with rafe.

barry knocked a couple times, the look on his face was almost nervous, a small frown settled on his lips.

a disheveled looking man opened the door, ushering them in. y/n followed closely behind barry, avoiding the man’s prying eyes. the living room was a mess, she struggled to step over the countless empty bottles littered around.

“so, you got my money bare?” the strange man rasped, standing in the doorway sheepishly.

“yeah man, i got your money, but i wanna see the goods first..” turning his head, the man nodded to someone in the hallway.

narrowed eyes closed in on the pair as eerie footsteps sounded around the room. another man, just as strange looking, appeared in the room, duffel bag in hand.

the bag was placed on the table roughly, the silence in the room becoming awkward immediately. y/n picked at her nails, away in her own little world.

the men swapped bags, barry counted the pile of little packets while the other two counted the money. they whispered amongst eachother, their words muffled by the rustle of baggies

suddenly, barry perked his head up, his eyes meeting the knife that had been pointed at y/n. her breath hitched as she clocked it, failing to back up any further against the couch.

“hey man, what the fuck are you doing?” barry snapped, standing up without hesitation.

“you’re missing two-thousand dollars barry..” he sighed, throwing his head into his hands, mentally cursing himself for not double checking rafe’s bag.

“you wanna go get us our money barry, or this one’s not getting out of here alive..” the man motioned towards y/n with the blade.

“nah man, leave her out of this” he uttered, holding a shaky hand up.

“call your buddy, get us our money” the other guy demanded, reaching forward to pull y/n out of her seat.

she let out an ear piercing scream as she was dragged out of the room. barry groaned as her shrieks were muffled by a closed door, having been taken into the bathroom.

“balls in your court bare, get cameron down here with our money, and neither of you get hurt”

barry dialled furiously, “c’mon man, answer the fucking phone” he murmured into the phone.

“rafe! you gotta get down here, right now man” he whispered, “they’re keeping her hostage man, they know about the missing money”

“fuck!” rafe yelled.

“please! let me out!” a high pitched plea erupted from the bathroom. “shut the fuck up bitch!” their voices could be heard through the phone, igniting a burning feeling in rafe’s chest.

barry leapt from the couch, lunging at the man in the room, taking him down with a thud. heavy fists we’re thrown as the two men scuffled around the room, destroying furniture in their wake.

the screams and shouts went on for a while as barry struggled against the man.

the front door burst open as a shaking rafe stood in the door way, chest heaving. “barry! help me! please!” y/n yelped again.

without hesitation, rafe kicked the door open with a crazed look in his eyes. the man had y/n pinned to the wall, trailing a knife along her neck.

from what he could see, she hadn’t been physically injured, but the thought alone was enough for rafe to snap.

he lunged forward, dragging the man to the floor, knocking the knife out of his hand. y/n wailed as they struggled on the floor.

“gun! y/n grab the fucking gun!” rafe bellowed, startling her. nodding through the tears, she pulled the gun out of his waistband.

he stuck a hand out hastily, reaching for the gun in her shaky hands. quickly cocking it, he didn’t give the man a chance before putting a quick bullet in his head.

y/n’s hand covered her mouth as she wept, in a heap on the floor. breathlessly, rafe hurried to her side, scooping her onto his lap.

“i’m gonna get you out of here princess, c’mon angel..” he breathed, lifting her into his arms.

“you good bare?” he shouted, stopping for a response. a sweaty barry appeared in the door way, unconscious man left behind. “all good here bro, let’s fucking go!”

rafe placed y/n in the car carefully, wiping her tears. “it’s okay princess, i’ve got you now, it’s okay..” he cooed, meeting her glassy eyes as he spoke.

arriving back home, he carried her through the house, placing her on the couch. “stay still for a second angel, im gonna clean you up” he said soothingly, rubbing his forehead as the guilt set in.

“rafe..” she let out a shaky whimper. “yeah?” he stopped in his tracks. “please don’t, sit with me..” she cried.

“whatever you need baby, i’m here now, you’re safe with me” he whispered, pulling her into his side.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #dom!rafe #rafe cameron #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #soft!rafe cameron #dealer!rafe

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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months ago

Text

iou

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), friends to lovers, college!au (briefly), kind of nerdy reader but like more studious, partying, drinking

“seriously, y/n. anything. id pay-shit, id do anything. please.”

the final word out of rafes mouth is finally what breaks you as you slump against your seat. “fine!”

“thank you, thank you.” rafe says, hand gripping yours.

“you know how much extra work i have already rafe.” you whine. it's your fault truly for being an overachiever in college. everyone knows getting paired with you means you immediately take over all the work, having to do double or triple what the other students deal with.

“and that's why ill do anything for you. tell me whatever you want.” rafe pulls his wallet out, thinking you'd ask for money.

in your twelve years of being friends, you've never really shown an interest in money, especially when your parents have enough to send you to the best university, just like the cameron family.

“i don't want your money, rafe.” you roll your eyes. “you just… you just owe me, okay? ill figure it out later, i need to get to work on your assignment now.”

thankfully it's just an essay for a subject you already know a decent bit about, and you don't want to make it too good to make people suspicious of rafe submitting work clearly not done by him, but at the same time you want to save him from failing the class.

“thank you.” rafe says again. “you're actually the coolest girl here.”

you roll your eyes. if only rafe actually saw you that way. he's turned out to be a great friend, especially now that you're away from the outer banks, but he's still the life of every party, the guy all the girls look to.

it's lead to some uncomfortable moments of trying to figure out if the new friends you were making were just using you to get close to him.

you realized long before college that rafe didn't see you like other girls. you were his friend first, and a girl his age second. he never once tried to hit on you, even though you desperately wished things would change when you both decided on the same college.

“you know, i still owe you.” rafe says, setting a glass of lemonade down in front of you. “never would have passed that class without your essay.”

you smile, taking a sip. “oh, i haven't forgotten.”

you're home for the summer, back in the outer banks with no stress of classes, able to truly relax and unwind.

“seriously, ask for anything, anytime.” rafe says, taking a sip of his beer, the bottle already dripping with condensation.

“ten million dollars?” you smile and tilt your head to the side, making rafe roll his eyes before laughing.

you've only grown closer to rafe since coming home. you thought he'd be excited to see his friends who stayed on the island, but hes more interested in hanging out with you now that you're not busy.

“you're coming to the party this saturday right?” rafe asks. “topper told you about it?”

“yup.” you nod. “he texted me.”

“oh…” rafe hums, suddenly feeling a bite of jealousy he didn't expect.

“wanna help me pick out a dress to wear?” you ask rafe. you have girl friends that you could talk to, but honestly, the more time you spend with rafe, the more open he becomes, and the less you want to see anyone else.

“absolutely.”

rafe admires his choice as you bring back a drink for him, having just emptied your own glass.

“here ya go.” you hand him the glass of whiskey before setting your drink down on the table in front of you. you tuck the skirt under your bum as you sit down. of course rafe had to go for the smallest and tightest dress you own, claiming he just really liked the color.

“you're the best.” rafe smiles at you, a soft, slightly drunk, twinkle in his eye.

“yeah, yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes, tipping your feet to the side to get some weight off your heels. it's been too long since you've worn anything other than sneakers and crocs.

“seriously.” rafe moves his chin to his knuckles, elbow resting on the side of the couch. “you helped me with my essay and so much more when we were at college and you're not even sick of me and telling me to fuck off now that we're back home.”

“id never tell you to fuck off.” you shake your head, taking a large sip of your drink, feeling it immediately add to your buzz.

“we should dance.” you suggest, looking at the crowd of bodies all twisting together in time with the music.

“is that you using the iou?” rafe asks.

you stand up, looking down at rafe. “i need to use an iou to have you dance with me?”

“nope.” rafe stands suddenly, making you aware of how close you are, chests practically touching, mouths hovering not far apart.

you hesitate, just as rafe seems to freeze, before you both move in, rafes lips smashing against yours as you kiss wildly, hands not shy despite all the people around as rafes large palms squeeze your ass, while yours dive underneath his shirt, feeling his muscles.

“fuck, upstairs.” you gasp, rafes lips moving to allow you to catch your breath, but only to kissing your jaw.

rafe doesn't speak, simply lifts you up and allows you to wrap your legs around his waist. you don't care that your dress bunches up and makes your underwear clearly visible to everyone passing by, now when your lips are on rafes neck while he carries you.

as he bounds up the stairs, moving as quickly as he can, you take a moment to suck a hickey into his tanned skin. no way you're going to let this moment go without claiming him for yourself.

rafe pushes into a random guest bedroom. the bed is stripped down to just a sheet, but it'll do as he locks the door behind him, hands fumbling briefly at the doorknob before securing it.

rafe lays you back on the bed, glad to have his lips reconnect with yours as you begin to kiss again, both completely unencumbered by what the kiss means with the alcohol flowing through your bodies.

rafe held himself back for so long, not wanting to ruin his friendship, that he has to force himself to not go wild and immediately tear your dress off.

“baby-” rafe gasps out.

“if you want to stop, im using my iou to get you to fuck me.”

“no.” rafe laughs and shakes his head. “save it for when we are arguing over where to eat or what we want to name our future child. im going to fuck you.”

you feel your cheeks flare up, clearly rafe is thinking of this as the start of a relationship, not just a one time hookup, and you couldn't be more happy and relieved.

“fuck me then.” it's all you need to say to get rafe moving again, hands pawing at your dress as you work it off your body, leaving you in nothing but a strapless bra and a tiny thong you put on hoping rafe would see it.

you pull at rafes shirt, a pout on your lips, asking him to take it off without using words.

rafe is quick to oblige you, tossing his shirt somewhere in the room as your lips reconnect, rafes hands gripping at your chest while you feel the muscles along his arms and shoulders.

“i-i need you so bad. i don't have a condom though.” rafe would go down to the party half naked begging for one if you really wanted him to.

“it's okay, im on birth control.” you take rafes hand and press it to your arm, allowing him to feel your implant. “and im clean.”

rafe nods, a smile breaking out on his face just at the thought of getting to have you bare. “im clean too.”

“what are you waiting for then?”

rafe is quick to finish undressing you, practically drooling when he sees your tits, teased so long by only getting to see them underneath sweaters and tshirts, teased by sneaking peeks while you were busy studying or deep in thought.

he takes a moment to press a kiss to each of your nipples, watching them bloom underneath the touch, but he will have all the time in the world to focus on them later as he moves to undressing himself, pushing his shorts and underwear down in one quick movement.

“oh.” your eyes widen when you see rafes cock for the first time.

“ill be gentle.” rafe says, pulling your thong down your thighs. “promise.”

“okay.” you nod, allowing yourself to relax as you rest against against the bed, feeling the way rafe positions himself until your eyes blink open and see his face hovering above yours.

“what?” you ask, suddenly feeling shy as you blush.

“nothing. you're just beautiful.” rafe bends down to kiss you at the same moment his cock presses against your entrance, his lips keeping you distracted from tensing up as he slowly pushes in, being as gentle as he possibly can with his length until he's seated fully inside of you.

“you're so-” rafe gasps out. “warm and wet.”

“of course im wet.” you giggle. “wanted this for so long.”

“wish i would have stopped trying to be the perfect friend and just did this earlier.” rafe shakes his head with a slight laugh. “you- you feel amazing.”

“you can move.” you nod to rafe.

he keeps his movements slow and steady, watching your face as he does, fully focused on just your pleasure.

“faster, it's okay.” you tell rafe, hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, hips swinging in faster, meeting yours in a loud slap until it's clear to everyone outside of the room exactly what is happening.

your moans grow as well until you're making constant noises, drowned out past the door by the music pumping through the speakers. rafe swears the way you sound right now is better than any other song.

he drops a hand to your pussy, shifting his weight onto one elbow as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing over it as he learns what you like, watching the way your face twists and contorts in pleasure.

“gonna-gonna cum.” you warn.

“im close too.” rafe says. he could have cum the moment he pushes inside you, but he's been waiting for you to be ready to release, wanting to meet your highs at the same time.

“inside me, rafe.” you don't want him to pull out, you want to feel what it's like to have him release inside of you.

he nods rapidly, breathing deeply as he focuses on your clit, ignoring the swelling of his cock until your head tips back and pussy tightens, and then he crumbles.

you never end up using your iou. not when you go back to college and you rope him into helping you study late at night.

not even when planning your wedding where rafe jokes about you using it to have your first dance song be to taylor swift, but he concedes and agrees without you needing to use it.

not when you're raising your child together and you want to dress your daughter up in a pink bunny costume for easter, while rafe wants her in a more traditional dress.

you never need to use it when you want rafe to kiss you, to hold you, to make love to you, because that's exactly what he wants to be doing anyways.

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save-the-villainous-cat · 8 months ago

Note

knife torture in a creepy basement perhabs? maybe a shady mercenary has captured a hero on a supervillain's behalf but wants to have some fun with the hero before they give them up

“I’ve been told that you’re not very easy to capture,” the mercenary said. Their collection of knives was impressive and the hero was, simply put, getting ready for the torture.

They had survived a lot of similiar sessions. Guns, knives, water, fire — by now, the hero could slip into a state of simply enduring it all. No panic, no screaming. Their entire energy was spent on survival and usually, they got away with it just fine.

“Not because of you, but your little guard dog...” The mercenary looked at them intensely and suddenly the hero realised this was about to get more complicated. “Kinda dangerous. Making it that obvious.”

The hero smiled dryly, feeling dread fill their stomach.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. Do you think I’m that dumb?” The mercenary pressed a knife against their thigh and slowly, the sharp end dug into the hero’s skin, splitting layers of skin until it reached muscle. Until it reached bone.

The tears came quickly and the hero’s pathetic moans filled the basement. Their hands were bound behind their back, so they tried not to move at all. The wound would only get bigger.

“Christ,” they hissed, almost shouted. “Fuck—”

There was so much blood. The hero had forgotten how much they could bleed.

“Frankly, I don’t care about your little romance, the only feeling I have for it is somewhere between disgust and annoyance. I mean, who the fuck even cares?” They pressed the knife deeper into the hero’s thigh and scraped their femur terribly. The hero swallowed a scream, tried to maintain their composure but their tears wouldn’t stop and neither did the wheezing.

“What do you want?” the hero asked. For the first time, they were terrified. The mercenary knew about the villain. What if they had caught them? What if the villain was enduring this too right now? The hero couldn’t stomach that.

“Oh, you know…just wanna have some fun. I’m actually retired. Don’t get to do a lot of field work.” They pulled out the knife and the hero gasped in pain, praying that the villain was alright. Maybe the mercenary was simply toying with them? Surely, the villain was clever enough to get away from them. “Ah, shit. I guess you need that so you don’t bleed out? Hmmm. My bad.”

They jammed the knife back into the hero’s thigh, slightly above the first wound.

“Ouch, sorry. Not really good at aiming.” The mercenary shrugged. “Happens. Anyway. Your little lover? Do you think they’ll save you from all this drama?”

“God, please stop.” The hero struggled in their restraints, desperate to escape. They didn’t know what was worse: the knife? Or the psychological toying?

“Do you think anyone is gonna find you? I can tell you already, it’s not that easy. I’m no amateur.”

“You’ll kill me,” the hero whispered. “I’m gonna die here, I’m gonna bleed out, oh God…”

“You’re not the brightest, are you?” the mercenary asked. Again, they pulled out the knife and the hero’s thigh felt scorchingly hot. They didn’t want to know what kind of scars would be left on their thigh after this, how they’d explain it to the villain. “I need you alive. Blood loss is just helping me a little. Makes you dizzy, makes you sleepy. Makes you weak, just like the supervillain wants you.”

“You’ve made a pact with the devil,” the hero said. They leaned their head against the wall, tears still streaming down their face. The villain…they would save them, wouldn’t they?

“Very poetic.” They traced lines down the hero’s thigh, the knife digging into their skin every now and then. “But I don’t care that much about the money. I’m just curious if your lover will show up? People tend to think our lives should revolve around love. So, how much does your dear villain actually love you? Will they show up? Will they save you?”

They laughed and it almost sounded gentle.

“Let’s break all that trust you have in them, hm? At the end of the day, man eats himself. You’re terribly and very sadly, on your own. Just like the rest of us.” They whispered the last words. For the third time, they pressed their knife back into the hero.

The hours passed. And the villain never showed up.

#totally forgot this was in my inbox sorry egg #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #an answer for an ask #request #whump #mercenary #I guess???

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feelingquacky · 1 year ago

Text

Back To You

summary: y/n came to Japan for the vibes, cars, and freedom. she even thought that maybe she’ll get the peacefulness she’s been looking for all her life. spoiler, she didn’t. but would she trade that for anything else? not.

pairing: han lue x reader

author's note: this will probably be a multi-part series! feel free to request :) also, this is my first fic, please be nice!

warnings: none as of now. but please do tell me if there’s something that i missed!

You could break my heart in two But when it heals, it beats for you I know it's forward but it's true

October 2007, Tokyo, Japan.

Y/N pulled up into the parking building in her Acura NSX. This was what she missed, the adrenaline, the bustle, and the stares. She drove slowly, spotting the parking her friend saved for her. She parks and gets out of the car, attracting stares from multiple people around the area. She figured out that the community must be close, considering that they almost immediately figured out that she was a new face. She roamed her eyes around the place until she finally spotted Neela walking towards her.

“Welcome to Japan!” Neela laughs, pulling her into a hug. “How was the flight?”

“It was shit. I’m never flying anywhere that long ever again.” Y/N rolls her eyes, walking over to the hood of her car, and opening it.

“Well maybe, you could’ve afforded better tickets if you didn’t spend your whole fortune on this damn car!” Neela sneers, with her eyes on the setup her friend managed to snag while she was in the US.

“When Papa died, he said in his will that I should spend what he left me on something that I will be happy with. I should spend it on something that I’m passionate about. And I’m not passionate about business class plane tickets. Plus! Dom got me a good deal on this, who am I to pass on that?” Y/N reasons, leaning on the side of her car.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, Y/N,” Neela says while rolling her eyes. Y/N laughs as she spots two guys walking over to them. One of the guys with a leather jacket wraps his arms around Neela while kissing her cheeks.

“Oh! Y/N, this is Takashi,” Neela says, pointing at the guy with his arms wrapped around her. “And this is Marimoto, Takashi’s assistant guy.” Neela points to the other guy with blonde hair. “And guys, this is Y/N. She’s new around here!”

“Nice to meet you!” Y/N smiles meekly. Takashi and Marimoto eye her car and setup, until they are interrupted by another guy.

“New face?” The guy raises his eyebrows. Y/N eyes him up and down until Takashi speaks up.

“This is Han Lue. I work with him. Han, this is Y/N. Neela’s friend.” Takashi points to him. Han Lue raises his right hand, offering a handshake. Y/N takes it, with a confusing look. Is it a habit in Japan to only shake hands without the thumb and index finger?

“Sorry, wouldn’t wanna get crumbs on your hands.” Han laughs. That’s when she acknowledges the fact that his thumb and index finger do have cheese dust on them, and she’s thankful he did that. Han eyes her car and set up with a knowing look until Takashi breaks the silence.

“Nice build, Y/N! I’m impressed.” Takashi smiles. Y/N smiles back feeling proud until Marimoto comments.

“I bet that you had someone else make it for you. Do you even drift?” Marimoto chuckles. Y/N raises her eyebrows at him. “I do know how to drift. How about you? Do you even know how to drive?” Y/N says, tilting her head to the side.

“Hey, watch your mouth. I’ve been here for years. I’m a good ass driver.” Marimoto says, walking towards her.

“Then walk your talk,” Y/N says, while taking out a roll of money, and putting it in front of his face.

“Oh, I will!” Morimoto says as he tosses his money to a guy with a coat on. Y/N does the same thing as she watches him walk away. She gets into her car and closes the door. Neela walks towards her door and Y/N rolls down her window.

“Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut even just for one night huh?” Neela rolls her eyes, looking at her worriedly. “He was talking shit, Neela. I can’t let him do that. I also get to try out my setup tonight! Isn’t that good?” Y/N smiles, starting her car.

“Just stay safe, yeah? He’s kind of an asshole driver.” Neela sighs, backing up. “I will, Mom!” Y/N smiles, rolling up her window and driving to the starting point of the race.

Ready, Get Set, Go!

Y/N arrives on the rooftop with prideful glee. A guy comes up to her window and hands her the money she won from the bet. She hears Morimoto’s whines, but that’s the least of her worries right now. She’s enjoying the celebration happening right outside her car, not until Han comes up to her window.

“Congrats,” Han says nonchalantly, currently chewing his snack of choice, Pepero. “Thanks,” Y/N says awkwardly. Han looks around the inside of her car before speaking. “Toretto built this for you?” He asks.

Panic. Panic builds up inside Y/N. How did he know? He wasn’t supposed to know. You’re fucked, Dom is fucked, and everyone you’ve hanged out within the past few months is fucked.

“Who’s that supposed to be?” Y/N shakily laughs, slowly preparing to pull away from the building. “I have to go,” Y/N says with a shaky voice. She rolls up her window and drives out of the building, not knowing where to go.

Once Y/N was convinced that no one was following her, she pulls up to a convenience store. She takes out her flip phone and quickly dials Dom’s number.

“Y/N. Why are you calling at this hour?” Dom answers, with a confused tone. “Look, I don’t know how he recognized the car, hell I didn’t even explain anything! I just raced and suddenly he just knew! I’m so fucking sorry Dom, I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Y/N explains hurriedly.

“Woah woah, slow down kid. What happened?” Dom asks worriedly. “There was this guy, Neela’s boyfriend introduced me to him. He was quiet, he was just looking at my setup like any person would. I didn’t even get to talk to him that much. I won a race and he suddenly came up to my car again. He looked around and suddenly asked if it was you who built this car for me. I don’t even know how he knows!” Y/N explains, with a shaky voice.

“Okay, it’s okay Y/N. I want you to describe this guy.” Dom asks calmly. “He has long hair, he’s very nonchalant, and he eats a lot I guess? His name is Han, I think.” Y/N answers.

Dom chuckles at her. “You know kid, you do drink too much coffee,” Dom says with a teasing tone. “What’s so funny about this situation, Dom? We’re fucked!” Y/N says, frustrated.

“Calm down, kid. Do you remember the stories I told you before? Me and my past jobs? I told you about a guy who lost his girlfriend in one of our jobs, right?” Dom explains. “Yeah, the girlfriend’s name is Giselle, right?” Y/N asks.

“Mhm,” Dom answers. “So what the fuck does that have to do with our situation right now?” Y/N questions.

“He’s the guy in question. The Han Lue you just met, is the guy I worked with before.” Dom says. You can almost see the smile on his face.

Y/N’s fucked, again. As soon as Dom and Y/N’s conversation end, Y/N dials Neela’s number, hoping she can fix her mistake tonight.

“Y/N! Why’d you run off? I was worried about you!” Neela exclaims. “I’m sorry, something came up. But do you know where I can find the guy you introduced to me earlier? Han’s his name.” Y/N asks.

“Ooh! Is it a crush?” Neela teasingly asks. “Oh God no! I just need to talk to him about something. Can you send me his address or something? It’s urgent.” Y/N pleads. “Okay okay! I’ll text you the address. It’s a garage, so just pull over. You should find him there.” Neela says.

“Thanks a lot, Neela! I owe you one.” Y/N says.

As soon as Y/N receives the text containing the address, she starts her car and speeds to the garage. She pulls over and turns off the engine of her car. She gets out and walks into the garage. She looks around until she is greeted by a guy that looks like he’s in high school.

“Perfume? Nice smell! Nice American smell!” The guy says, bringing out a Victoria Secret cologne. That was very American.

Y/N chuckles. “No thanks. I’ve smelled enough of those.” Y/N declines.

“Oh, shit girl! You’re from the US? I’m Twinkie, nice to meet you!” He says, offering his hand. Y/N shakes his hand.

“Nice to meet you! Do you know where I can find Han Lue?” Y/N questions. Just before the guy in front of her was able to answer, he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Twinkie, what did I say about selling products here?” Han says, coming down. “That’s who you’re looking for,” Twinkie says, pointing at Han. He smiles meekly at Y/N and Han, then walks away.

“What brings you here, new girl?” Han smirks, walking towards her with another pack of Hello Panda. Y/N smiles meekly. “I know. I’m sorry, I panicked. I didn’t realise who you were.” Y/N says, looking down.

He looks up at her, chuckling. "All good. Wanna look around?"

#han lue imagine #fanfiction #fast and furious fanfiction #fast and furious #han lue fanfiction #han seoul oh #han lue x reader #han lue #han lue imagines #han x reader #han x you

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hanibalistic · 1 year ago

Text

#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 3090

warning | everything i know about e-42 miles morales (and just this spiderverse) is from the movies

note | tentatively there're 5 parts to this story... thank you for reading :)

parts | one, two, three, four

The streets in the morning were less eerie than at night, which you supposed was a given fact. It was like that back on your Earth too. One significant difference you found between your Earth and this Earth was that, while both were crowded, the general architecture of this Earth looked like they were on its last leg. There were more old and rusty gates than reflective and clean glass doors, and most buildings were held together through an abandoned construction process with no safety measures taken.

Miles told you once that if the buildings hold, they hold. It took you a while to let that mindset sink in. When you realized your overthinking wouldn’t magically strengthen the morale around this place, nor would it collapse one of the dusty-looking buildings as you so feared, you stopped thinking too deeply about it. You would get jumpy occasionally, though, like if a few steel construction poles holding a balcony together start shivering in the wind. He never visibly laughed, but trust that he was always amused at your caution.

“What about this one?” you asked, holding a sweater before your torso and turning to him. “I like this one. It’s cute!”

Miles peered at you, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pocket where he was safekeeping the money his mother gave him to do clothing shopping with you. The corners of his mouth pulled into a frown immediately. “It looks tacky.”

You mirrored his frown, but yours were defeated rather than mischievous. “You have something mean to say about everything.”

“For good reason,” he said with a shrug. “You have terrible taste.”

He wouldn’t be too wrong about that. Fashion was never your forte, but you did wonder if it could be when personal interest and financial budget were no longer an issue. You laughed under your breath; that felt like a faraway dream. Carefully putting the sweater back on the hanger, you made a point to scoff directly at his face.

“I really don’t see how that’s tacky,” you said. “Is the sweater tacky, or am I?”

“Oh, I can’t answer that,” he replied with a faux sympathetic smirk. He bent to your eye level and added, “Won’t wanna be mean.”

If he was taunting you, playfully so, it wasn’t successful. One thing you learned about Miles in these past few months of living with him was that he was all bark and no bite. All you have to do is level his stare for just a bit too long for comfort—you squinted your eyes, your nose scrunching as an afterthought, then abruptly stomped a foot forward. He immediately jumped back, but he did it to avoid hitting the tip of your nose with his, not because you successfully scared him.

His eye twitched in dismay when you smiled triumphantly before turning around and running out of the store, dropping a quiet trail of snickers through your lips. Miles faintly clicked his tongue into a grin, which he had to physically rub off his face. After spending these months with you, save for the paranoia-inducing glitches you have been doing occasionally, he has mostly settled with your presence being a constant.

There was a spot for you in his twin-sized bed, at the dining table in the living room, and even on the chores list! Your prolonged stay was not anticipated, nor was your infiltration into his life to such an intimate degree. At some point, Miles completely tore his walls down to let his heart run astray, and the first place it ran to was you. The only issue now was whether you returned his feelings, and that was a question he couldn't even begin to pick apart.

"It's so nice to put a face to a name.” Seconds after he left the store, he could recognize a voice. "Oh, yes. Miles talks about you all–"

"Gwen!"

Realization hit him with the hallucinated impact of a train entering a pitch-black tunnel. He bolted out to the street where you and his partner in crime (literally) stood, his arms stretched out so he could cover your ears just before Gwen could finish her sentence. You looked up just as your shoulders were hunched at the icy feel of his hands, and you saw Miles utter something through gritted teeth at the bemused girl you just met.

“You’re not funny!”

“Thank you, Miles. I try my best,” Gwen retorted with a satisfied smirk, then her gaze bounced down to you, and she scoffed in disbelief. “You’re right, though. They do look exactly alike. It’s uncanny.”

“They’re the same person,” he clarified, “just from a different Earth.”

“I know,” Gwen shrugged, “but you’d think they would at least have a different style.”

“They’re wearing my clothes. How would you know?”

“They’re wearing your clothes?”

Miles pursed his lips as he let go of your ears, subconsciously rubbing them through a brief caress before his arms fell to his sides. You widened your eyes in surprise when the cold Brooklyn air and the chattery street returned to your senses; it didn’t occur to you how much pressure he applied to muffle your ears until sounds came back to you. Shifting his weight and heaving a dramatic exhale, Miles let his friend know how little bullshit he was willing to take from her this day, especially when it came to jokingly expose his feelings for you. Gwen’s smirk stayed for a moment longer before she narrowed her eyes and gave a knowing nod; it was all for good fun. She understood the implication of someone like Miles falling in love.

“What are you guys up to?” Gwen asked, changing the subject.

“We’re buying clothes,” you replied, clarifying with an indignant huff. “Or we would be if he wasn’t vetoing everything I suggest.”

“Their taste is awful,” Miles retorted without looking at you. He was speaking to Gwen.

“A tacky shirt means I won’t have to take from your closet anymore,” you said, exasperated. You threw your arms up to smack his face with the overly long sweater sleeves before rolling them back up to your wrists, where you folded the hems twice to keep them from sliding over your hands. “Look at your clothes! They’re big on you, and they’re big on me!”

Gwen pulled a face in agreement. “You do like oversized clothes, Miles.”

“Thanks for the unsolicited input,” Miles smiled, “much appreciated.”

The tension zapping between their fake smile and glaring stare was palpable. To your dramatic lenses, at least. You switched between the two of them, your eyes darting back and forth as your mind raced to find some kind of a conclusion to their relationship. If Miles was in love with the previous version of yourself, and they have since died, then the next possible candidate would likely be Gwen depending on how closely related they were. Or perhaps you were wrong all along! Miles told the truth when he said he was only good friends with ‘you’ because his heart belonged to this girl across from you!

“What are you two?” you asked, promptly breaking their eye contact.

“Oh? We–uhh,” she awkwardly tugged a piece of hair behind her ear and glanced at Miles, “we work together?”

Miles frowned at Gwen for a split second before he nodded. “We work together.”

“Colleagues!” You crossed your arms and stared off into the distance. You ignored Miles when he began asking questions about what you were doing. “Colleagues… there is much to discuss… yes.”

“What?” He waved his hand in front of your face. “What are you yapping about?”

“I think someone is getting the wrong idea about us,” Gwen said, failing to hold back a chuckle. She watched Miles roll his eyes as if you’ve always gotten the wrong idea about everything and smiled faintly to herself; she had not seen him this expressive in a while. Having a paralyzed face was his thing ever since grief took over. Looking away, she directed the conversation to you instead. “Hey, how is the glitching treating you?

You clapped your hands suddenly and tilted your head, ignoring the way Miles jumped in disbelief that you responded to Gwen and not him. You had no idea she knew of your glitching, but if Miles trusted her enough to let her on your identity, she must be someone you could count on. Nodding, you looked down at your hands and grimaced. “They’ve slowed down, thankfully. I don’t like the feeling of it.”

There were no words to describe how the glitching felt because you simply were not for a moment. It was the act of your existence being pulled apart manifested into a colorful and pixelated view for a third-party observer. The dimensional sight of it tricked people into thinking there was an experience to undergo, but there wasn’t, technically. You were glitched out of existence and then glitched back into reality. Your body and soul were pulled apart at the seams, separated into atoms and molecules of nothingness, and your mind wasn’t fast enough to catch up with its erasure that for a split second, you understood your oblivion before being forcefully put back on your feet.

You were thrown into uncontrollable sobs the first few times you glitched. The process was all but a mere few seconds, but the aftermath was Miles staying up all those nights until you fell asleep first, holding his breath whenever you stirred in your sleep, and wishing he was capable enough to stop your face from getting stained by tears. You have mostly gotten used to the feeling, but that did not eliminate the grotesque urge to barf every time you glitched.

“Hmm…” Gwen rubbed her chin in thought at your reaction. She has been helping with figuring out what to do to stop you from glitching entirely, but the urgency of it all greatly stumped her thinking process. She worked well under pressure, not one of her friend’s many paranoid rambles about you dying. “The multiverse is difficult to figure out, but I think I have a few ideas I’d like to try.”

Miles turned to her with anticipation. “You have something?”

“It’s not a definitive something,” Gwen said as she stepped away from his prying eyes. “It’s more of a hypothesis.”

“We can test it out,” he urged, eyes glimmering unfamiliarly. “Having something is better than nothing.”

“My problem is more about [Name] being the only person who can prove that what we made worked,” she said with a shake of her head. “I will not have them wear something that might kill them.”

There was a downward shift in the air as the Brooklyn cold froze over. Your eyes darted about at the drop of tension. The change in Gwen’s voice and how Miles’s feet shuffled so he didn’t have to maintain an awkward standing position were not lost on you. There was a shared sorrow that neither has opened up to you about. With Gwen avertinig her eyes and the gentle drop in her confidence, you couldn't have been mistaken that she also knew you well before you died. Deducing from her last sentence, these two might be why you met your end.

“We should give it a try anyway,” Miles muttered. “If it works, it’ll really help them.”

You halted the inward debate on whether you should give a say in their conversation. You couldn’t begin to understand the science they would have to figure out to stop your paranormal glitching, even if they decided to discuss the plan with you. It still surprised you that Miles has the smarts good enough to be on his way to prestigious universities. He has been so regular—he went to school, lazed about the chores, and was afraid of his mother for reasons you now understand. Either way, your best bet was to trust that these two only had your best interest in mind.

You smiled at Gwen and gave her two encouraging thumbs-ups when she glanced at you with what you could consider millennia of uncertainty. Her stoic brows relaxed as nostalgia packed her body into itself upon getting hit in the face, once again, with your familiar features. Two years of unresolved grief and self-blame, two years of longing for a friend, and everything dissolving into one innocent smile and two thumbs-up. Miles did not overstate his whiplash when he saw you because she was feeling it too.

“I’ll gather everything I have and bring them over tonight,” Gwen said. “I have some stuff to do, so I’m gonna go. I’ll see you tonight, Miles, and, uh–“ she waved, for a farewell that felt long overdue–“goodbye, [Name].”

Her soft features remained in your head as her back faded into the crowd. The noticeable sorrow in her eyes whenever she looked at you further reinforced your assumption that you two, at least, used to be friends. A sense of pride for yourself from this Earth blossomed deeply in your chest, and you felt giddy knowing that you could maintain a genuine friendship with Gwen. But, more than that, you admired how her face glowed even under the chillingly dark sky and how her voice spoke like the texture of crumbled silk being smoothed over with a kind hand. Her delicate features plagued your head because you thought she was pretty.

“I like her,” you said with a small smile playing on your lips.

“I do, too,” Miles hummed in acknowledgment. He reached down to grab your hand so you wouldn’t get a chance to run off again, and you let him. “Not in the way you think I do, though.”

Question marks popped into the crease of your forehead as you looked up at him, acting incredulous now that you found out your self-curated romantic fantasy based off of one simple interaction between two people whose relationship you have no detail on read like an open book to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he retorted as he raised your intertwined hands to point a finger at you. “You need to stop acting a fool.”

You squeezed his hand extra tight and huffed in dissatisfaction when he was barely affected by your abysmal strength. Taking a deep breath, you forced an embarrassing, wise chuckle and said, “Love is supposed to make you do stupid things.”

“Tell me when the love is there.”

“Ugh,” you groaned and pursed your lips to silence yourself. Observing passersby as a distraction, you managed to keep quiet for a few stores before bashfully inching closer to Miles, who sighed knowingly. “You really don’t have any feelings for her? Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Ugh!” Your groan was less annoyed this time. “What a waste! I don’t understand!”

“You’re really hell-bent on this,” he mentioned as his legs stopped. He turned his body to you with wilful ignorance that he was forcing both of you to block everyone from walking down the middle of the street. He raised a brow, questioning. “I don’t like her like that. What don’t you understand?”

You felt a rare intimidation through his gaze, so you looked toward the direction Gwen left, chasing the image of a girl you tried not to feel envious of. Miles watched your eyes soften, but it was not the cause of relaxation but rather deep thinking that you forgot a world was happening around you. He waited patiently for you to return to him, anticipating your words. He always anticipated what you have to say, about anything, to the point it was foolish that he would wait for you to point out to him that an apple was red and a banana was yellow.

“I don’t know,” you whispered loud enough for him to hear. “She’s so pretty.”

The thought that it never crossed his mind might baffle you, but it never did. Gwen was pretty, but to Miles, that was an undeniable fact rather than something sentimental. Or, at least, it used to be. The fact that she was pretty immediately became a jagged blade that threatened to cut your perception of his feelings for you after what you said. He was less than fond of it, and, unfortunately, he also has no idea how to keep you from being cut with it.

It was a shame that you couldn’t see him the way he saw and knew himself.

How no matter the tap water he splashed on his face and the flower-scented soap he applied on his hands, the only thing to truly rinse him of the grotesque, metallic stain of a purple mask was the double weight on his bed. How taking his prowler suit off could never rid him of the criminal identity the same way he could forget about it when he sat before the television folding laundry with you. How the heavy stomps of his feet treading down a path of crime and the terrified breathing of almost having his life taken from him could be so easily drowned out by the seamless way his voice weaves into the sound of your laugher as if you two were made for each other.

You didn’t know the way he ached to sink himself into your presence, to relearn the world through your eyes and let you remind him that an apple was red and a banana was yellow, and how he would carve your face into his own so he would never forget you after you leave this Earth.

Miles’s heart was rebirth into the shape of yours, and you thought Gwen was pretty.

“There is nothing to it,” he said, clutching your hand to never let go. “She’s pretty. It’s empty.”

You slowly turned away from the street to look at him and smiled at his serious reaction. The dim sky tore open to let the sun kiss you, a tenderness he yearned to give you but couldn’t muster up the genuine courage to, so he only stared at you with endearment written all over his face in a language you haven’t learned to read.

“Come on, let’s go back to get the sweater you want,” he muttered.

“You said it was tacky.” You followed behind closely as he dragged you by the hand.

“Exactly,” he mused, “you two are a perfect fit.”

You squeezed his hand in retaliation, but all he could feel was how perfectly they fit together. Maybe even better than you and that sweater.

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