#i left the band behind when i left | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plutotheplum · 2 months

Text

Resonance

sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!

summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3

also posted on ao3!

You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place.

A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations.

The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.

Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair.

A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.

The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.

“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”

He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”

He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything .

“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”

Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.

“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.

He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.

A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him.

He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.

“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.

Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”

“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”

He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.

“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap.

His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”

“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”

You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.

“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.

Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot.

“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”

Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.

“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows.

His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.

Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.

He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .”

“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest.

He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push.

“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”

“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup.

“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words.

“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.

You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.

He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.

“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.

He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.

You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.

He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.

“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.

“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”

He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.

“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”

You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.

“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.

There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.

“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.

You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.”

“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”

A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.

Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.

“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.

You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.

The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.

“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe.

Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.

“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.

He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.

“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”

He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare.

Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.

You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties.

“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.

“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.

He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”

He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers.

“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.

He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.

Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric.

“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”

That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit.

A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.

“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly.

His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”

His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.

“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing.

“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.”

“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.

The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.

“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”

The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.”

A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.

“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.

“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”

“I wasn’t imagining-“

“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.

His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.

You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.

“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.”

It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up.

You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.

“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep.

“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”

You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.

“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”

You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away.

“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.

He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.

“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”

His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.

“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace.

“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.

“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.

It’s going to be a long night.

#sylus smut #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnd sylus #lnds smut #sylus qin #love and deepspace mc

3K notes · View notes

whore-ibly-hot · 3 months

Text

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere boy #tw.bullying #tw.noncon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere headcanons #tw.dubcon #gender neutral reader #yandere oc x reader #drabble #yandere boarding school #x reader smut #yandere boarding school x reader #tw.breeding

6K notes · View notes

kentopedia · 11 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ my girl — nanami kento

summary: you know the kid that kento mentors has a little crush on you; why wouldn't you use that to your advantage?

contents: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, brat taming, possessive sex, semi-public sex, hair pulling, pet names, praise, dom nanami, jealousy, ino has the hots for you, unprotected sex, kinda deg, slight dumbification, um i think that's it clearly i am so desperate for nanami and i haven't even watched the new episode — 2.3k

under the table, you slide your palm up kento’s thigh as he speaks.

he's explaining something about sorcerer politics that you’re not really interested in hearing about, not when there’s an ache between your thighs that he refused to take care of before you left, and his sleeves are rolled up in the way he knows drives you crazy.

across from the two of you, ino sits, attentively listening to your husband as, every few seconds, his eyes subtly slide over to you, the pink flush on his cheeks returning each time he glances at the soft smile that rests on your glossy lips.

ino’s crush on you is no secret. he is, really, quite obvious about how much he wants your attention.

of course, he knows about you and kento, has known since he first set eyes on you at a sorcerers’ meeting and asked you, slyly, if you were single.

kento had come up behind you not a moment later, smiling with a golden band on his ring finger, asking ino if he forgot to introduce his wife.

and though the younger sorcerer respects nanami, perhaps more than anyone, it does little to quell the attraction he has for his wife… especially since you are so insistent on teasing the poor kid at every chance you get.

you can’t help it, really, when it riles kento up so easily. the way he vibrates under his skin with anger, irritated that another person could ever think of his wife in any manner that is less than respectable.

kento sets your hand gently back down on your lap, jaw clenching as his fingers twist around your wrist tightly. though he hides his irritation well, you can tell from the sharp glint in his eye, the tension in his shoulders, that it is getting the best of him.

your husband may be sweet, a lover that never acts rashly out of anger, but he has a possessive streak he’s never been very good at taming.

as kento stiffens, you smile sweetly at ino, who exhales heavily, shifting all of his attention on your husband. though, you are staring him down, listening attentively to every word that he says.

while ino speaks, you slide your hand back over kento’s thigh, vying for his attention. he clears his throat, a warning, as he grips your wrist once more and pushes you away.

it won’t be much longer before he snaps. kento's sitting straighter, back taut as he focuses his gaze sharply on the younger man across from him. whatever the two of them are speaking about is dull, repetitive talk about work that you are bored of.

“so, ino,” you finally ask, the lull in the conversation that you've been waiting for. you speak up before kento can ask any more questions about the sorcerer’s progress. “any pretty sorcerers caught your eye?” you lean froward with a small grin, your breasts fully on display as you set your chin in your palm. “surely someone as charming as you already has a girlfriend."

ino turns red then, a flush spreading from every corner as he tries, so hard, not to let his eyes fall. you admire the effort, really, even though kento catches the moment the younger man's gaze drops, the half second he stares at your tits and squirms in his seat.

“n-no,” ino stutters, nervous for the first time in this conversation; he is usually so loud and outspoken, never feeling shy about the words that leave his lips. “can’t seem to find many sorcerers my age.”

you laugh. it’s true that there are few sorcerers from his year, but you know it is the wrong thing to say.

anger radiates off your husband, and with a sense of satisfaction, you trace your fingers back up his thigh before grinning, batting your eyelashes at ino.

“why not go for someone older, then?” you ask, palming a hand over the steadily growing bulge in kento’s pants

ino chokes, and kento grabs your hand roughly, shoving your fist back onto his lap as he steadies all his anger and buries it down.

“excuse me,” kento suddenly interrupts, and his voice is so calm, so smooth, that its almost like nothing is out of the ordinary. he slides out of the booth, running a palm over his slacks, palms sweaty from his annoyance. “i just remembered i’ve got an important phone call to make. could we put a pause on this conversation?” he is so polite as he nods his head, and ino blinks, looks between the two of you, uncertain if he’s done something wrong.

“of course,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “take you time.”

“would you come with me, sweetheart?” kento turns to you then, and he sounds normal, like there’s nothing wrong, but his hands flex at his side, and his eyes are narrowed almost imperceptibly.

kento’s mad, and you know you’re fucked; but you can't help the desire that sits heavily in your stomach, the way you’re already soaking your panties, wanting him inside you.

“sure, ken.” you nod, smiling at him. “sorry, ino, we’ll back right back.”

you stand next to your husband, who places a heavy hand on your shoulder, a warning. but you love the feeling of his skin on your own and it does little to stop your teasing; it only makes you want him more.

ino says nothing as kento leads you around the restaurant, takes you to the back of the shop where there are two single-person bathrooms. one is occupied, and the other, empty.

the two of you go inside.

“are you trying to embarrass me?” kento says angrily, shoving you into the bathroom as he locks the door behind him, his eyes hungry at the sight of your flushed cheeks, the way you are already so desperate for him. he pushes you towards the sink, eyes flashing as you reach for him, hastily undoing his tie. “you’re acting like a fucking brat whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.”

“maybe you don’t,” you counter, yanking off his tie so you can unbutton his shirt, slide your hands across the expanse of his chest. god, you want him so fucking bad. you’re aching, arousal pooling in your panties as your husband lifts you, shoves you back onto the sink. “you wouldn’t even take care of me before you left—“

“don’t start.” he glares and unzips his slacks to free his half-hard cock, stroking it as you try to get your hands on him. though that attempt is feeble as kento grabs both your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. with the other, he hikes your dress up, pushing it along your smooth thighs.

his voice is low and dangerous, deepening as he dances fingertips along your skin. “you’re so fucking desperate for attention that you’ll take it from anyone.” he pins you with his hard gaze, and you’re hot all over, legs shaking with anticipation. “i bet you like that he wants to fuck you so bad, even when you know i can fuck you better.”

you whimper, eyelids fluttering as kento reaches under your dress to pull down your panties.

“prove it, then” you say, and you know you’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, annoying him further as you grope at him. you squirm, trying to release your wrists from his hold, but he’s so strong; you’re only left a writhing mess under his touch. “i want you, kento.”

“yeah?” he asks, yanking your panties roughly down your thighs, the pair that has already been soaked through. “if i give you what you want, will you sit there quietly like a good girl, and stop flirting with the kid who wants something he can’t have?”

the tone sends aching need throughout you, and the commanding presence of his voice is almost too much. “i promise,” you say, shaking as you lock your heels around his hips. “please.”

“please,” kento repeats mockingly, eyes hard as he slips a finger inside of you. he slides right in, barely needing to prep you before he fucks you. “you should be embarrassed; you’re this fucking wet just from looking at me." his eyes harden. "so impatient that you can’t even wait until we get home.”

“i’ve been patient all day,” you say, high-pitched, but you’re quickly silenced as kento slides in and out of you, setting a steady pace while his thick fingers squelch inside your aching pussy. “need you to—“

“stop making demands." he releases your wrists to place a hand on your hips, stop you from fucking yourself on his fingers. “shouldn’t even be giving you what you want, but i can’t help myself. you’re so pretty, so desperate to have my cock inside you that you can’t even sit still.”

“kento, fuck,” you groan, grabbing his shoulders as he stretches his fingers deeper inside you, past the walls that clamp down on him. in a desperation to keep quiet, you try to kiss him, moan into his mouth so no one else can hear you.

but he grips your hair tightly, pulls you away from his lips as you moan, loudly, into the tight space of the bathroom. “nice try.” his fingers pump in and out of your soaked cunt. “but i want everyone to hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart. need them to know who’s fucking the brat out of you.”

you try to pull him towards you, shift him closer with your ankles. “kento—”

“louder.”

“kento, fuck, baby, please. i want you so bad, i love you—” you’re almost screaming, desperate to cum as his thumb brushes against your clit, teasing, and not enough for you to find complete release.

but you’re squeezing so tightly around his fingers that he must know you’re close, even as he pulls out of you, the juices from your need for him soaking his knuckle.

finally, he smiles at you, softly.

“there’s my good girl,” he says, and it reminds you why you never want anyone else but him, why you need him, desperately, all the time. kento’s cock is already aching, leaking, and he forces it into you without warning, grunting into your neck. “sometimes, you're just so fucking stupid when you want my cock.”

you nod, whimpering out a breathy moan as he thrusts into you, hard and rough, still holding you by the hair so you can’t kiss him, even as much as you want to.

you’re so hot all over, skin burning as he stretches you. “please, let me cum, ken,” you say, and there’s tears in your eyes; you’re so close, but you want to be good for him, want to show him how much you love him.

he hums against your neck, watches you writhe as he forces himself deeper into you, burying his cock in your pussy completely.

you can’t help the sinful noises that leave your throat, echoing down the vents to the kitchen, to the dining room. and maybe everyone in the restaurant can hear your husband fucking you, but you don’t care, not when you’ve waited this long for him to be inside you.

“so pretty,” he says, sharply, and finally, he lets his hands fall from your hair, holds your hips instead, bringing you harder onto his cock.

a tear rolls down your cheek and you bite down on your tongue to keep from screaming, whimpering at the aching pleasure in your entire body.

“you’re mine,” kento says, kissing you sloppily, hungrily as you thread your fingers through his hair. his tip brushes the sensitive spot inside you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stop yourself from cumming. “mine, mine, mine. no one else should ever get to fucking look at you if they can’t tell who you belong to.”

“i don’t want anyone but you,” you say, and you’re almost shouting, saliva all over your mouth as you drool from his harsh kisses. "i'm yours, kento."

you feel him smile against your lips. “that’s my girl,” he says, voice rough as he grips you tightly, nearing his own orgasm. “you wanna cum, pretty? make a mess on my my cock, sweetheart. i’m so close.”

his thrusts grow sloppy, and you grip his shoulders as he fucks deep into you cunt, forcefully, and, finally, you cry out, toes curling as you cum, hard, around him.

kento’s face is flushed, sweat at his hairline as his tips edges against your cervix, almost painfully, before he’s toppling over the edge, biting down hard on your shoulder with a groan. hot ropes spill into your cunt, and you're still writhing, moaning from sensitivity as his warm seed settles deep within you.

he’s so pretty; you kiss him over and over, the loose hair that sticks to his forehead, the flush on his cheeks. “mmm,” you hum, tasting the coffee on his tongue. “love you so much, kento,”

“you say that now,” he says curtly, slowly dragging himself out of your tight walls. “but wait until we get home.”

already, your pussy aches again, and you’re too warm, sweating as kento fixes his hair in the mirror.

you try to slide your panties back on, reach for where they've pooled at your ankles, but kento is faster. he yanks them away, folds them up nicely to tuck into his pocket.

“kento—”

“leave them off,” he says, sniffing as his cheeks slowly return to their normal color. “maybe ino will stop thinking about fucking my wife if he sees my cum running down her thighs.”

you stare at him, blinking, but you don’t have the energy or the willpower to fight anymore. instead, you obey, standing as a mix of kento's cum and your own juices seep onto your inner thigh, creating a sticky mess between your legs.

your husband unlocks the door, and you follow him back into the dining room, where ino is subtly sliding back into the booth, his cheeks red, a bulge obvious in his pants. he glances between the two of you with wide eyes, and darts his gaze back down between your legs, before staring at kento uncomfortably.

“did you get your call sorted out?” he asks, and his voice is higher, squeakier as you sit down with your husband.

kento smirks, satisfied. “it’s been taken care of.”

i need him to fuck me so bad

11K notes · View notes

sneakygreenbean · 1 year

Text

personal observations made by a new cane user:

you do not need to be in constant pain to own a cane.

folding canes have a clasp or band to keep them folded. losing the band is a pain in the ass.

you will get dirty looks

it does not matter what age you are. you will get dirty looks.

you have to hold it in the opposite hand as the disabled leg. this is fortunate, as I am right handed, so i hold it in my left hand to support my right leg.

people will try to steal your cane from you.

when standing still, I hold it in my right hand unless i need to do something right handedly. this does not work as well as i thought it would.

being visibly physically disabled is difficult. having a mobility aid will help with pain and movement, but some people don't get them because visible disability is treated with disgust.

if someone meets you for the first time, and you don't have your cane, then they will like you more, but they will not believe you are actually disabled.

if someone meets you for the first time, and you have your cane, they will not treat you the same.

the majority of other cane and mobility aid users I have met are homeless. I live close to a big city.

People do not want to see you being disabled.

you will not hear of the benefits of using a cane from anyone who does not use a cane.

no one will prepare you for the world of being visibly physically disabled. however bad you think we have it is usually not from the disability at all. I can deal with pain and I can deal with an indisposed left hand.

the hardest part of being disabled is the fact that no one will care until you make them care.

the disabled seats on trains are a suggestion

the disabled seats on buses are a suggestion.

you will have a different experience with using a cane than I have had.

your hand will become tired. you are using it as a leg.

your cane is legally a part of your body. this will not stop some people.

you are not your disability. but it will affect you.

i love you

theres always an invisible someone who has it worse. that person will not be affected or offended by your use of a cane. take the damn ibuprofen. put the folded cane in your bag. ask your friends for help. gd knows they need help sometimes too.

you will have to learn that things will be impossible to you. you may not run as fast anymore. you may not become a skater, like you always wanted to be. you may be left behind when everyone else runs ahead.

you deserve better.

your cane handle gets dirty. wash it.

some days pain is worse. some days you will feel it the moment you wake up.

no one deserves pain. the human condition is not to suffer. we deserve better. we deserve to be loved and not tolerated. we deserve to be seen better than from the corners of eyes. we deserve to be heard better than an afterthought at a meeting.

be quick to care for yourself. I love you.

#disability #if you clown on this i will kill you with my teeth.#personal #disabled #cane user #mobility aid #physical disability #this is about physical disability do not derail. i understand that mental disability is treated badly as well. this post isnt about that.#this post is also not about invisible disabilities because i have a very visible disability.#please be patient with me. i am young and new to the use of canes. most of these revelations are shockingly new.

12K notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 7 days

Text

PAST LIFE⋆

dofp!logan howlett x mutant fem!reader

cw:fingering, cursing, dirty talk, mentions of motherhood, fluff

logan should've known when he accepted the mission to come go back in time to stop the sentinels that you would still be here.

"is there an issue here, hank?"

the sound of your voice made logan's heart flutter. you were barely peaking out from behind the door but logan could see you just fine. he couldn't stop staring.

"no, everything's fine." hank assured you. just as you turned to return to charles's office, you hear the door burst open. this handsome stranger hits hank right in the nose before continuing up the stairs to you.

logan had to take you in for a second. his beautiful future wife stood in front of him and she has absolutely no clue that their married because she's only twenty-five years old.

had you always been this gorgeous? was that even fair? all of these were questions that floated around in his mind.

"who are you and what do you want?" you asked as he reached out to touch you.

"so you've always been this beautiful, huh, princess?" he purred, tucking away a piece of your hair behind your ear.

sure, he was attractive in his brown leather jacket and sunglasses but this man looked in his mid-forties. logan was too busy staring down at your frilly yellow babydoll dress to notice where you're looking at him. his left hand; more specifically the gold band on his ring finger.

"i don't mess with married men." you glare at him. he couldn't help but chuckle darkly down at your innocence.

"oh, my wife wouldn't mind."

god, logan felt like such a pervert for coming on to you but he couldn't help it. you're ethereal beauty was unreal. not that you had aged much since present day, as you two have the slow aging processes in common. older hank would always tell logan that he should be lucky that you agreed to date him because there were plenty of people who would love to take his place. sure, logan believed him but now, he really understood what hank meant.

"where's charles at, sweetheart?" logan asks, inhaling your floral sent.

before you could respond, charles comes barreling down the stairs drunkenly calling after you.

"where've you been?" he asked you then turned to logan. "who the hell are you?"

this should be good.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"how do we know that you're actually from the future?" you asked, sitting atop charles desks, swinging your legs. hank and charles stood outside in the hallway discussing whether or not to trust logan.

"you've always been this stubborn?" logan says under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"how do we even know each other in the future?" you finally asked.

for the past hour, this man has tried to sell this absurd story about how future charles and magneto sent him here together in order to save mutants from sentinels. so far he's managed to convince charles but hank and you were still on the fence.

"we're married, sweetheart." logan smirks wickedly.

there was absolutely no way that you two were married. this man is grumpy, mean looking, and wears dark brown leather. you are an academic scholar who adores pastels and helping other mutants. he had to have you mistaken.

you squint up at him and laugh, "we are married?"

logan nods, walking over to you until he's standing in between your legs.

"tell me something only i would know then."

"your favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry, you hate the cold and winter, anytime you drink coffee you get nightmares, your favorite color is green; but your favorite shade is the color my eyes get when i look at you." logan could see the way your eyes widen, slowly starting to believe him more and more. he couldn't help but feel cocky. "would you like me to continue?"

"im not sure... think you're gonna have to prove it. another way." you challenge him. logan's hand trails up your thigh, playing with the soft yellow material.

"c'mon sweetheart, this is too easy." he mutters against your neck, placing soft kisses and nibbling on the skin.

logan knew you like the back of his hand. he knew exactly what you like and dislike. sometimes you would even tell him that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"you like when i pull your bottom lip when we kiss. you blush every time i offer for you to sit on my face. one of your favorite ways to fuck is pressed up against a wall or bent over a table..." logan could go on and on.

"we do that...?" you whisper embarrassed by this version of yourself, trying to avoid his burning gaze.

"oh, all the time. sometimes you pull me down on the floor when i come home, begging to ride me right then and there." logan says, once he captures your attention again. you chew on your bottom lip adorably.

a small whimper passes your lips before you remember that hank and charles aren't that far away from the room. one of your hands comes up to logan's chest, slightly pushing him back despite not wanting to.

"w-we should stop." you warn him. "they can hear us."

this was when logan knew that you hadn't discovered part of your mutation yet. he had already assumed that you hadn't but this confirmed it.

"need you to relax, princess." he says, moving higher up to your jaw. your body betrays everything your mouth says, eating out of the palm of his hand. "i promise once you relax, it'll feel like time has stopped."

logan's lips taunt yours; not quite giving you what you want. fed up, you overpower him and push his lips into yours. the only word floating around in your head was 'relax'.

carefully, logan lays you back on the desk. something about being held in the strangers arms set you at easy; maybe he was really your husband?

"you don't know this yet..." logan huffs. "but you can stop time."

you scoff, thinking that you caught him in a lie. "no, i can't."

"if you relax like i said, then you can." logan mutters against your collarbone.

one of his hands slides up your thigh while the other rubs circles on your hip bone. was this wrong of you? if he is telling the truth –and it seems like he is– then technically he is your husband and it's not wrong to mess around with your husband.

"open up for me, babydoll." logan mumbled against your collarbones, placing wet kisses and nibbling on the delicate skin.

your legs spread with easy as his callused fingers rub over your cotton panties. the soft material of your dress is bunched at your tummy as he tugs your panties off, pocketing them for himself. his thumb returns to rub your button.

"p-please..." you whimper, looking up at logan with bambi eyes. "need more."

"anything for you, princess." he groans, slipping two fingers inside of you as gently as he could. this earned a loud moan from you when he nudged that spot deep in your gummy walls with ease.

"see how well i know my wife?" logan gloats, pressing soft kisses to your lips but never letting you catch him. "you usually prefer it rougher than this but i'm not cruel."

"y-you can go... can go faster." you pant, never having anything quite his size yet.

"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he says in a condescending tone. "wanna know something 'bout the future?"

it was difficult but your managed to nod your head despite how clearly fucked out you were at this point.

"a couple weeks ago, you came home telling me how much you want to be a mom; how you've always wanted to be a mom." he pulls back to look at your pretty face, lust darkening your eyes and slick pouring out of you, practically dripping down his palm onto the desk. "so, every chance we get alone you've been begging for me to go raw inside of you."

logan loved how even as you're all spread out for him, you're still blushing at his filthy words.

"look at you, blushing while you soak my hand." he mocks with a smirk.

"i'm s-so close, please!" you beg so politely.

his thick fingers pick up the pace as you clench down on them; jaw dropped and head thrown back. logan's other hand supports your back while your cute painted blue nails dig into his wrist as your climax starts to wash over you.

"hey sweetheart, look out the window." he chuckles, moving your chin to stare hazily out the glass window.

you couldn't believe it. every car, bird, street light, everything was stopped. everything but you and logan.

"how did you know that i could...?"

"you can't always control it but when you calm your mind, it's easier for you to do it."

"does it always happen when we...?"

"when we have sex...?" logan chuckles as you hide yourself in his chest. you nod. "no. over time you've found ways to control it. sometimes if we need more time, you might manipulate it."

"future me sounds cool." you giggle, lifting up to look at him. "how do we meet?"

"i can't tell you that." he smiles.

"well, then where are you in this timeline? how can i meet you sooner?"

"i'm not a very good man during this time, baby. you'll meet me when the time is right."

"what if you don't want me then? how do you know we will still get together?"

logan looks down at your pouty lips, swiping his thumb across it.

"i'll always come back for you. no matter the timeline or where we are in life; i'll find you again."

"promise?"

"i promise you, sweetheart. don't worry that beautiful mind of yours." he assures, kissing the tear strolling down your cheek.

logan reaches down and kisses you tenderly, pulling you out of the time freeze. suddenly the door swings open on the two of you. thank god, logan had quick reflexes, pulling your dress back down to cover you.

charles calls your name then asks, "what are you doing?"

"it's okay, he's my husband."

a loud laugh escapes logan at your lovey dovey tone, almost making hank and charles eyes fall out of their heads. you couldn't wait to meet logan again in the future.

2K notes · View notes

javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months

Text

You Make Loving Fun

Summary: You buy tickets to Fleetwood Mac for Javi's birthday. After a few drinks, Javi ends up having a little more fun than he intended.

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, creampie, aftercare, implied? breeding kink (I think it's illegal for me to write if this isn't in the warnings somewhere) drinking alcohol, Javi gets absolutely HAMMERED, talks of having more kids and stopping birth control, Drunk Javi wants to tell anyone and everyone how much he loves his wife, Drunk Javi being sweet and happy and so in love because that's what he deserves

A/N: If you're anything like me, you've spent WAY too long looking at all of these photos of sweet Pedro at a concert, and of course, my brain automatically went "THAT'S JAVI GETTING WASTED AND HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE" and now, here we are 🤷🏼‍♀️ I feel like Javi would be a very happy/affectionate drunk post-Colombia bc he is so happy just to be having fun and enjoying his life and that makes me ✨emotional✨ Also, thanks @itsokbbygrl for ruining my life by realizing the ring Pedro is wearing in this picture is on his RING FINGER?!?! 😩

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

“I feel to fucking old to be doing this.”

“To do what? Go to a concert? I hate to break it to you, Jav, but there are, in fact, no age limits at concerts. What, are you worried security is gonna try to kick you out for being too old?” You giggled, looking over at Javi next to you in the bathroom, finishing fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt.

“I know, I just haven’t been to a concert in so damn long. Definitely not since we’ve had the girls.” Javi sighed, running his hand through the dark curls of his hair once more before turning to face you, still finishing up the last of your makeup in the mirror.

Although you had intended for your Fleetwood Mac tickets to be a surprise for Javi’s birthday, trying to coordinate around your schedules and 3 little girls had made spontaneous date nights much more challenging than they used to be when you first met. But, with Chucho needing no incentive to babysit his granddaughters, you and Javi were excited to have a night out just the two of you, getting to enjoy your favorite band together, singing and dancing the night away to celebrate another year of Javi getting older.

“Well then lucky for you, you’ll be the hottest dad at the concert.” You smirked, sassily tilting your head towards him to prove your point, your reaction just enough to snap him out of his self doubt, Javi joining in on the laughter as he stood behind you, grabbing your waist and placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder next to the strap of your sundress.

“Good thing I’ve got a fucking hot MILF of a wife to go with me then, huh?” Javi grinned, the kiss he had left on your shoulder now slowly starting to creep up your neck and collarbone as his hand reached down to grab a handful of your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “I know you picked this dress out on purpose because you know it drives me fucking crazy. God, you look good.”

“Javi! You better stop or we’re gonna be late to dinner before the show!” You scolded, giving him a playful jab to his stomach, only making him tighten the grip on your ass even firmer with his other hand coming to join his first.

“Hermosa,” He cooed, gently turning you around to take the mascara you had in your hand and set it on the counter before cradling your jaw in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “I know you. And you and I both know damn well you at least put enough a little buffer time into our plans for us to have sex before we left. Am I wrong?”

Well, he caught you there, because he most certainly was not.

“Maybe…” You replied sheepishly, overdramatically rolling your eyes at his statement, only making his boyish grin spread wider between his cheeks, “Okay, but seriously though, we do have to be quick, because I don’t want to- Ah! Javi!”

You couldn’t help but let out a little shriek of surprise as Javi suddenly lifted you up, setting you down on the bathroom counter and caging your body under his, his arms planted on either side of your hips as his mouth crashed into yours, tongues and teeth dancing in a hungry and desperate clash.

“I promise I won’t take too long. But I can’t help myself when you look this good, mi amor. Eres tan hermosa (You’re so beautiful). You’re gonna kill me in that dress, Momma.” Javi hummed, his hands now gripping the meat of your thighs and sliding down your legs to bunch up the skirt of your dress, hiking it up as he sank down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter.

You could already feel the damp patch that had begun to grow in your underwear as Javi hooked his fingers around the elastic of its waistband, tugging the fabric down your legs and letting it fall to the bathroom floor, revealing your pussy, already wet and aching for him.

Javi settled himself between your legs, draping them over his shoulders as his fingers slid through your folds, collecting your juices before beginning to circle at your clit with the pads of his fingers, peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs as you whimpered in delight.

“J-Javi, please, baby.” You moaned, fingers tightening around the edge of the countertop as his thumb replaced his fingers on your clit, his middle and ring finger dipping inside your already weeping core, curling just slightly as he began to pump them in and out of you.

It wasn’t long before his thumb was replaced by his mouth, the flat of his tongue licking a broad strip across your cunt, the new sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. No matter how many times Javi had gone down on you, it never failed to surprise you how goddamn good he was at it, memorizing every twitch and gasp that made you fall apart in the best way possible, and tonight was no exception.

His slow, long strokes began to quicken, circling his tongue around your clit with the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers worked in tandem, curving in just the right place to press against your g-spot and begin to build the arousal swirling in your core.

As much as you (and Javi, for that matter), would have loved to have taken your time and let him eat you out on the bathroom counter for hours, the both of you knew you were on a time crunch, but not enough of a crunch to stop Javi from making you cum at least once before he fucked you.

The pressure of his tongue on your sensitive nub became more and more, before latching his lips to suck at your clit, your cunt clenching in anticipation around his fingers as you writhed beneath his touch, moaning his name as you felt your orgasm begin to build.

You couldn’t help but let your hand shoot down to his head, your fingers burying themselves in his thick, brown locks, with absolutely no regard for the time he had just spent fixing his hair in the mirror just a few minutes ago.

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please, I’m so close.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face.

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt before pulling away to respond. “Give it to me, pretty girl. Wanna taste you all over me when you soak my face.”

Before you could reply, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt, each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips.

”That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Love this pussy so fucking much.” He groaned, reaching down to frantically undo his belt buckle, his fingers working rapidly to undo the metal clasp before pushing his pants and boxers down his legs, letting them pool in a pile around his ankles.

Still coming down from your high, your breath hitched as the tip of Javi’s cock ran through your folds, coating his length in your arousal before slipping inside you. You couldn’t help but gasp even harder at the new sensation of his fullness inside you, cockhead already kissing your cervix as his hips flushed with yours.

Javi’s hands began to wander up your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until he got to your hips, digging his fingertips in the soft fabric as he thrust in and out of you, mouths melding together as one.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Hermosa. So fucking wet for me, taking me so well.” Javi moaned, nipping at your ear as his pace became faster, fucking into you in the spot he knew made you lose all control, silently smirking at the pathetic whimpers that were escaping your lips.

Javi buried his face in the crook of your neck as your legs began to instinctively lock around the small of his back, bringing him closer to you with each thrust. You could already feel that all too familiar tingle building at the base of your spine once again, wanting to feel every inch of him you could deeper and deeper inside you before you came.

With the way the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, you knew you didn’t have much longer until your orgasm was about to crash though you, finding yourself grasping fistfuls of Javi’s shirt for dear life as you mumbled incoherently.

”O-oh shit, Javi. Fuck, F-fuck, don’t stop baby. Please, don’t stop.”

You could practically hear the hum of satisfaction deep in Javi’s chest feeling your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, his firm grasp of his hands on your hips holding you in place on the counter as he pounded into you.

”C’mon Osita. Cum all over me. Give it to me and I swear I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you all night.”

“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, please, Javi.”

“Is that what you want? You gotta be a good girl and cum for me first, baby.”

That was all it took for you to break before you could feel a wave of pleasure rushing through your body, euphoria running through your veins as you came, crying out Javi’s name like a prayer as he started to chase his own high. His thrusts became frantic and sloppy, his brows furrowing in focus to hold out just a little longer until your body melted into his in your blissed out state.

“That’s it, hermosa. I love you so much. I- oh shit- I’m close, too. F-fuck, I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy so full of me that it- oh fuckkkkkkkk.” With a few more pumps, a moan escaped from Javi’s parted lips as he came, spilling himself deep inside your walls. The warm mix of his spend and your arousal dripped out of you as his cock softened, whimpering at the loss as he pulled out, but catching your muffled moans in his mouth as his lips met yours, cradling your face in his palm.

Through your heavy breaths from heaving chests, you and Javi both couldn’t help but smile and laugh to yourselves as your foreheads rested against each other, quietly whispering “I love you” to each other in sync, your bodies slumped together in a blissed out heap on the bathroom counter.

”Fuck, you’re so hot. I’ll never get over it.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip after giving you another quick kiss, rummaging through your bathroom cabinets to pull out a washcloth to clean you up with.

”Takes one to know one, Peña.” You giggled, letting out a content sigh as you let your head fall back, closing your eyes for a moment before looking over your shoulder to see Javi, and behind Javi, the clock that you both had very much not been paying attention to in the midst of your antics.

”Oh fuck…”

“Already did that, mi amor,” Javi teased, running the washcloth under the warm water of the sink, “What’s wrong?”

Without saying a word, you gestured to the clock hanging on the bathroom wall with a defeated shrug, Javi turning around with a quiet laugh to himself, shrugging his shoulders right along with you.

“You’d think after how long we’ve been together we’d start giving ourselves even more time than we think to leave for things, huh?”

“You would think, huh?” You giggled, accepting defeat that the two of you would most definitely not be making it to your dinner reservations that you had planned before the concert. “Sorry, Jav.”

“What do you have to be sorry about, cariño? Fuck, I get to have amazing sex with my beautiful wife before we go see our favorite band, what a horrible birthday night so far.” Javi teased, giving you a reassuring nudge that you had nothing to apologize for. “I think the real question is…”

”Is what, Mr. Sarcasm?”

“What size fries do you want with your McDonald’s Coke and McNuggets for dinner?”

“How did you know I was gonna say we should get McDonald’s for dinner?!”

“Because Osita, I swear I know you better than I know myself.”

After some quick touch ups and a call to Chucho to say goodnight to your daughters before you left, you and Javi were on the road, happily enjoying your McDonald’s and taking turns picking your favorite Fleetwood Mac songs to jam out to, spending your ride debating what songs they’d play, reminiscing about the songs you loved, and singing at the top of your lungs, to the point you were positive you would have no voice tomorrow.

While you hadn’t been able to keep the concert itself a secret, the one thing you had been able to hide from your husband was the fact that you had managed to get not just good, but great seats for the show. If Javi had known how much you’d spent for him on his birthday, he would have insisted on finding cheaper tickets, but if there was anyone who was deserving of getting to see his favorite band from an incredible view, it was him.

From the moment the two of you had entered the venue, you had your tickets peeled to your chest to keep them from Javi, reassuring him that you knew where you were going, much to his dismay and insisting that working together would help you find your seats quicker.

After a few minutes of wandering and secretly maneuvering to the right section of the stadium, you had finally found where you belonged, excitedly pulling Javi along behind you towards your seats.

“Baby, not that I don’t trust your navigation skills, but I feel like we’re down way too far in the stands. ” Javi questioned, his hand in yours as you dragged him through the crowd, looking back and forth between your ticket stub and the stadium rows to find your spots.

“Not to burst your bubble, Jav, but my navigation skills are as on point as they ever have been.” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest before handing him over your tickets, his face stunned and in shock as he read the small stubs of card stock, realizing you had absolutely led the both of you to the right place.

”Happy early birthday, Javi. I know the concert itself wasn’t a surprise, but I hope that these seats are still a good one.”

“Osita… Baby, you can’t be serious…” Javi’s jaw dropped, eyes going wide in shock, convinced you had to be joking or playing some sort of prank on him.

“Serious as a heart attack, Jav.”

Javi stood there speechless, tears welling in his eyes with an awestruck grin on his face, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle and squeal in delight.

“God, I love you so much. Thank you, Hermosa. This is… fuck, this is absolutely incredible. Thank you. I don’t- this is way more than I deserve. Thank you so much.”

Your heart swelled at the boyish grin spread across Javi’s face as he looked out at the view in front of him, knowing that if you could give your husband the world in his pocket, you would in a heartbeat, but to see his excitement over some seats at a concert would do just fine.

“You’re so welcome, baby. You do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone I know. You are the most amazing, wonderful husband and dad. If I could get you up there on stage with Stevie Nicks, I would, because that’s what you deserve.”

“I think the last thing anyone needs is to hear me even attempt to sing.”

“The girls love it when you sing to them.”

“That’s because they don’t know any better. Give it a few more years and I’m sure they’ll be begging me to stop.”

“What they know won’t hurt ‘em,” you laughed, giving Javi a playful shrug, “Also, the other part of this gift is that I am driving us home from the concert, so you can have as much fun as you want.”

“Baby, you don’t have to-”

“I can and I will,” You sassed defiantly, cutting Javi off before he could oppose your offer, “You always drive so I can have a good time, and you deserve to have time to let loose, too. So, with that being said, I am going to go get us drinks. Drunk Javi is one of my favorite Javi’s and I don’t get to see him very often. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Hermosa. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jav. Now, what do you want to drink?”

“Surprise me.” He laughed, giving you a quick kiss and a subtle smack on your ass as you walked past him to make your way back to the concession stand. “Drunk Javi is really one of your favorites?”

“Absolutely. Drunk Javi loves to dance. Drunk Javi also gets very sweet and a little handsy, both of which I am more than okay with.”

A few drinks deep and the opening bands finished, Javi, or better yet, Drunk Javi, was having the absolute time of his life. For as fun and goofy Javi was at home with you and the girls, it was few and far between that the former DEA agent found himself intoxicated out in public with a case of dancing shoes and uncontrollable giggles.

“God, I’m having so much fun. Are you having fun, Hermosa? You’re the best wife ever, you know that?” Javi grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pecked a sloppy kiss onto your cheek before taking another sip of his beer.

“Glad to know you don’t have a secret wife who you like better than me.” You teased, giving him a little nudge and giggling at his drunken state, a little surprised when all of a sudden his face turned serious, setting down his beer to cup your jaw with his palms and forcing his gaze on his.

“Baby, you know I would never ever do that, right? I literally love you so much. You and the girls are my whole world. I think I would rather die than be with anyone else besides you. No, I know I would rather die than be with anyone else. You are literally perfect.” Javi pleaded, his concerned, big, brown puppy dog eyes making your heart melt.

“Yes, Mr. Dramatic, I know you would never have a secret wife, but thank you for your very adamant confirmation.” You giggled, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him another kiss, washing the worry away from the concerned furrow of his brow. “You are such a goofball. I love you so much too, Jav. I promise, I’m not going anywhere either. Well, actually, that’s a lie. I do need to go to the bathroom before Fleetwood Mac comes on, but I will be right back.”

“Okay, mi amor. I’ll be right here when you get back.” Javi nodded adamantly, knowing in his drunken state he would be taking his job of not leaving your seats very seriously until you safely returned.

“I know you will, Javi. I’ll be quick, okay? Need anything when I’m gone? Besides another drink?”

“How did you know I was gonna say I needed another drink?” Javi asked in complete shock, like you had just showed him the world’s most inconceivable magic trick.

“I’d say the almost empty bottle was a good clue.” You winked, giving his arm a little squeeze before shimmying your way through the row of seats and up the stairs to find the nearest bathroom and concession stand.

Normally, Javi wasn’t one to strike up small talk with strangers just for the fun of it, but with his lowered inhibitions, he couldn’t help but find himself turning to the group of women seated next to him to kill the time before you came back from the bathroom.

“Have you guys seen Fleetwood Mac before?” Javi shrugged, finishing the last bit of beer at the bottom of his bottle.

“Yeah, we’ve seen them a few times! They’re really good live!” One of the women responded, her friends nodding in agreement.

“I’ve seen ‘em before too, but this is my wife and I’s first time seeing them together. She got me the tickets for my birthday, but she surprised me with how good these seats were. She’s amazing.” Javi beamed, subtly nodding his head to the music playing in the background between sets.

“Awh, that’s so sweet!” One of the other women chimed in, the three women laughing to themselves at how drunk and awestruck Javi was over you.

“It is. I hope they play Everywhere. It’s our favorite song by them. We played it at our wedding when she walked down the aisle and I bawled like a baby. She looked so beautiful. Who am I kidding? She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Like, ever.” Javi’s grin was growing wider by the second, staring off into the distance as he rambled on about you.

“Oh my goodness, you are so cute. She’s a lucky lady.” The women smiled, incredibly entertained by everything Javi had to say.

“No. I’m the lucky one.” Javi responded, stone cold serious as he pointed to himself, finger poking his chest. “Have you seen her? She’s so pretty. And she married me! And on top of that, we have a family, too! Can you believe it?!”

“With how in love with her you seem to be, I 100% can. How many kids do you have?”

“3 daughters. Lucy is 5, Elliot just turned 3, and Harper is 7 months old.” Javi counted on his fingers, holding up 3 to represent each of his girls. “I love them so much. Being a dad is like, the most coolest thing ever. And she’s such a good mom. They’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Hey, Chatterbox.” You laughed, gently tapping Javi on the shoulder, trying not to startle him as he turned around, beaming from ear to ear at your presence. “Here is your drink and- oh!”

“Osita! I missed you.” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence in his mouth with a strong kiss, pulling away to greet you with a goofy grin, followed by a confused frown. “Wait, where did you go?”

“Oh boy, we’re gonna have to pick some Gatorade and Tylenol up on the way home, aren’t we? I was just going to the bathroom, remember? And to get you another drink, silly goose.” You giggled, holding out his beer for him.

“Oh shit. I should probably go to the bathroom, too. Do you think I have enough time to go? I don’t wanna miss anything with you!” Javi questioned frantically, realizing he definitely had not utilized the bathroom to the extent he probably should have.

“You should be fine, babe. The lines were pretty short, so if you hurry I’m sure you’ll be back in plenty of time.” You reassured him.

“Phew, okay, I can go fast, no problem. I’ll be right back, hermosa.” Carefully taking back his beer as he handed it off to you, Javi quickly scrambled through the crowd to follow the path you had just returned from, leaving you laughing to yourself and shaking your head.

“We just wanted to let you know, your husband is absolutely adorable.” One of the women furthest away from you piped up, catching your attention.

“Oh, um, thank you?” You replied, tilting your head in confusion.

“That man is utterly obsessed with you. I think he had more nice things to say about you in 30 seconds to a group of strangers than any of my exes ever did combined.”

“Girl, not to mention he is handsome. You are one lucky woman. Who knew it would take a stranger in love at a Fleetwood Mac concert to once again raise the bar for men.”

“Wow, uh, thank you. That’s really nice of you. I’m not gonna lie, he’s pretty darn great.” You blushed, trying to keep your smile from spreading too wide at their compliments for Javi over his affection for you.

“Of course. We won’t bother you anymore, but figured you’d like to know that your man is still head over heels for you. Enjoy the rest of the concert!”

“Thanks, you guys too!” You smirked, your eyes darting down towards your feet to hide the red glow of your cheeks, your heart bursting with warmth from the fact that even in his drunken state, you found yourself falling harder and harder for Javi every day.

Suddenly, the lights around the stage began to dim, the roar of the crowd overtaking the stadium, signaling Fleetwood Mac were only moments away from taking the stage. Instinctively, you peeked your head behind you through the crowd to look for Javi, relieved when you saw his broad figure hustling down the stairs, waving at you with a goofy grin the whole way.

"I was worried I was gonna have to come find you before the show started!” You sighed, grabbing Javi’s face and giving his cheeks a playful squeeze before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“Osita, you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Any high hopes that you had for the show were surpassed, and then some. The band played all of your favorites, the both of you singing and dancing along, probably making complete fools of yourselves, but you couldn’t care less.

You were particularly impressed with Javi’s over dramatic stomping and air drumming to “The Chain” to kick off the show, having to grab his beer to keep it from spilling all over himself several times throughout his performance. Although incredibly offbeat, Javi's enthusiasm made up for any drunken lack of rhythm throughout the song.

The both of you couldn’t help but shout along to “I Don’t Wanna Know” at the top of your lungs, painfully off key and obnoxiously loud, Javi reaching down to grab your finger, wrapping his hands around it to use as his own makeshift microphone for the entire duration of the song.

During “Landside”, you found Javi standing behind you, chest pressed to your back and arms wrapped around you as you swayed back and forth, gently wiping your tears and choking back his own as he whispered in your ear how lucky he was to build his life around you and your girls, mumbling something about how if any of the girls get married and pick this song to do a father daughter dance to, he’d be an absolute mess.

By the end of the concert, you and Javi were both exhausted, giving every last ounce of energy to “Go Your Own Way”, the crowd erupting with thunderous applause as the show came to a close, lights flashing and confetti exploding from the ends of the stage in an array of bright colors in the same way your heart felt like it was exploding with joy from the incredible time you had with Javi.

Over the cheers and hollers, Javi leaned in, cupping your cheek in his palm, the other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to his chest, capturing you in a kiss that seemed to make time stop and everyone else disappear, feeling like in that moment, no one else existed but the two of you.

“I love you so much, Osita.”

”I love you too, Javi.”

“Tonight was- Oh shit, hold on,” Javi paused, letting out a long, low burp, a signature Drunk Javi move, placing his hand over his chest and letting out a long sigh before speaking again, “Sorry, that felt good. Wait, what was I saying again?”

“That you had a lot of fun. I think it’s time that we get you home, cowboy.” You couldn’t help but snort at his impressive display of flatulence, wrapping your arm around his waist as you walked with the flow of the crowd departing from the stadium, hand patting his hip in reassurance.

It wasn’t until you began to try and travel up the stairs and through the sea of concert goers that you realized just how drunk Javi was. While wrapping your arm around his hip had started off as a sweet gesture to help guide him in the right direction to leave, you began to worry that you were going to have to try and keep him up until the two of you got to the car.

Thankfully, your humming, happy as can be Javi made it to your parking spot, breaking free of your grasp to race to your car, tugging at the driver’s side door with profound confusion at it’s locked state.

“Hermosa! The car is locked! How are we gonna get home if we can’t get in?” Javi fretted, tugging harder at the door handle.

“I have the keys, baby, don’t worry.” You laughed, reaching into your purse to unlock the truck’s doors, sending Javi stumbling backwards as the driver’s side swung open from his last tug at the handle. “Also, you are on the wrong side there, pendejo. I’m driving home, remember?”

“Oh fuck, you are! I was gonna say, I think I’m a lil drunk. I probably shouldn’t drive.” Javi grimaced, quickly scampering to the other side of the car as you unlocked it, laughing as you watched him squeeze into the passenger set that was clearly set for your stature and not his.

“I think you might be more than just a little drunk, baby.” You corrected, clicking in your seatbelt and firing up the ignition, peeling out of your parking spot.

“Yeah, I’m a lot a bit drunk. I’m sorry, Osita.” He pouted, slumping his face in his hand, elbow resting on the center console.

“Jav, why on earth would you possibly be sorry?” You frowned, wondering what Javi had to apologize for.

“I’m sorry I’m so drunk and now you have to drive me home.”

“Baby, I’m glad that you decided to get drunk. I wanted you to have a good time! Number one, you’re always driving me home whenever I wanna have fun and number two, it’s your birthday, and you deserve to let loose and have as much fun as you want to. Don’t apologize, okay?” You smiled, gently grabbing your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze, instantly flooding his face with relief.

“Okay. I’m sorry I talked to those ladies sitting by us earlier while you were going to the bathroom, too. I was just trying to be nice. I just wanted to tell them how excited I was to see Fleetwood Mac with you, and how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are, and that you’re the best wife ever.”

“I know Jav, it’s okay. I didn't even think twice about it. They were very sweet, and said you had lots of nice things to say about me and the girls. It was very cute.” You smirked, lifting your interlocked hands to your lips to plant a kiss on his knuckles, giving it an even tighter squeeze of reassurance in the process.

At this point, Javi had practically melted into the passenger seat, limbs spread out as wide as he could to try and get comfortable, tilting his head towards you with a mischievous grin and sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes.

“You know what we should do when we get home?” Javi asked, now biting down on his lip to try and subdue his smirk.

“I don’t know Javi, what should we do?” You responded back mockingly.

“We shoulddddddddd....” He paused, dancing in his seat in excitement.

“We shoulddddddd, what, baby?” You sighed, laughing to yourself at his drunken goofiness.

“We shouldddddd throw away your birth control and make another baby when we get home tonight.” Now Javi was full on beaming in an ear to ear grin, raising his eyebrows at you as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find any way to warm you up to his intoxicated acquisition.

“Javi! We talked about this!” You scolded, giving him a playful slap to his chest, doing nothing to wipe his stupidly wide smirk off his face. “4 kids is a lot of kids. At least one of us can have a spare hand with 3, even if we’re outnumbered. I think 3 is the magic number, babe.”

“I knowwwww, but making babies with you is like, the best thing ever. If you asked me to list my favorite things to do, that would be number one, no question.” Javi protested, convinced that this argument alone would be enough of a selling point for you.

“Believe me, you’re not wrong, Jav. It’s a ten out of ten pastime, but even if I stopped taking my birth control tonight, I don't think it would happen, ya goof.”

“Crazier things have happened. Maybe we'd just get really lucky. Our daughters are so cute. I know it’s unfair to say because they’re our kids, but like, we make some cute fuckin’ babies, Hermosa. What if we made another super cute baby? Just like, one more?” At this point, Javi had broken out his signature pout and big baby cow eyes, looking at you like a stray puppy who had been kicked to the curb.

“Another adorable baby means I’m gonna have to build up my immunity to those sweet, sad, puppy dog eyes even more, and I honestly don’t know if I’m strong enough. I don’t know how all 3 of the girls ended up with your big brown eyes, but I hope you know it’s killing me slowly because of how frickin’ cute they are.” You sighed in defeat, knowing that your willpower with 3 sets of Javi’s mini-me’s was already low enough, let alone adding a 4th pair to the mix.

“Soooooooooo it’s a maybe?”

“Oh my god, you are so bad, Javier Jesus Peña.”

“That’s not a yes or a no, Osita.”

“....Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“So we’re not not gonna make a baby tonight?”

“Javi, I love you, baby, but with how much you’ve had to drink, I don’t think nature is going to give you enough grace to even let that possibility play out.” You snorted, gesturing down to his crotch, making him roll his eyes.

“Okay, that only happened one other time!” Javi sloppily pointed at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, when you were absolutely hammered after Steve’s 40th birthday party and wouldn’t let me put you to bed until you could prove to me that you did not, in fact, get whiskey dick, to which you fell asleep with your hands down your pants sitting in the guest room chair, unable to prove your point.”

“That was not my proudest moment, I will admit that. Most of the time, I’m pretty good at sex, though.” Javi retorted, trying to bring himself back from your last point made.

“Yes, Jav, you’re very good at sex.” You agreed, patting him on the leg and rubbing his thigh.

“So good…. That we should make another baby tonight when we get home.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Jesus Christ, you goof. I think when we get home, someone needs to drink some water and get into bed. I love you very much, but that’s about as far as we’re getting tonight.” You laughed, rustling the messy curls of his hair as he leaned his head to rest against your shoulder.

Javi sat silent for a moment, watching the headlights of the cars flash through his window, staring into the serene darkness of the clear night sky, the familiar warmth of his body pressed against yours in a comfortable calm. It was almost as if you could feel his eyelids beginning to droop, slowly closing while his sleepy state washed over him as he nestled against you. And while in that moment, the air between you hung quiet, you could hear the silent agreement that if given the choice, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right here, right now, with each other.

“Hey, Hermosa?”

“Yeah, Jav?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“....Enough that we should make another baby tonight?”

“Javi!”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

1K notes · View notes

chestersturniolo · 6 days

Text

“They don’t fuck around”

~ dealer!chris ~

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

You wake up to the faint sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric. Blinking in the dim light, you roll over on the couch to see Chris hunched over, stuffing things into his backpack. You don’t say anything yet, just watching him move with purpose, his jaw clenched and his eyes sharp.

You stretch, the blanket falling off as you sit up. “Chris?” you ask softly, your voice still thick with sleep. “Where are you going?”

He barely looks up, tightening the straps on the bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “I got a deal ma-” he says, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. “-big one”

You feel a pang of worry but push it aside. It’s nothing new—this is just a part of his life. A part of your life. “Can I come?” you ask, sliding off the couch and padding barefoot toward him. “I’m bored, pleaaase” you whine, sticking your lip out like a child asking for candy.

Chris stops what he’s doing and looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips. He steps closer, cupping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up. “Not this time baby”

“Why not?” You can see something heavy behind his eyes, something he’s not telling you.

His thumb brushes against your lower lip, and he sighs. “This one’s different” he says, his voice low, serious. “These guys I’m meeting, they’re not like the usual. They don’t fuck around. Guns, the whole thing-” He pauses, his grip on your chin tightening just a little. “-If something goes south, I can’t have you there. I won’t risk that”

His words hit you like a cold wave, and suddenly, you’re wide awake, nerves flickering in the pit of your stomach. “Chris...” Your voice falters. “…what about you?”

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, soft kiss that’s meant to soothe you, but it only makes the knot in your stomach tighter. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a murmur. “I’ll be fine, ma. I’ve done this before. You just need to trust me, okay?”

You nod, even though you don’t trust this feeling, you swallow the anxiety. “Okay” you whisper.

Chris pulls back, as he reaches into his pocket. “Here-” he says, holding out a thick wad of cash, rolled up tight with an elastic band. “-go out, spoil yourself, spoil your friends. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back before you know it”

You stare at the money for a second before looking up at him. “Chris, I don’t care about—”

“I know…i know you don’t. But it’ll keep your mind off things. Go have fun. I’ll text you when I’m done” with one more kiss to your forehead he presses the roll of cash into your hand, and then he’s gone, slipping out the front door with a quick glance back, like he’s making sure you’re staying put.

You stand there, holding the cash, listening to the quiet of the apartment after he’s left. The usual calm that comes after he leaves for a deal doesn’t settle over you this time. Instead, a heavy, unsettling feeling lingers.

You toss the money on the coffee table and sit on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. Where you’ll stay, until Chris’ text comes through.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

taglist;

@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4

@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #dealer!chris #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you

1K notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 2 months

Text

— come

Toge was always so careful and meticulous about using his cursed speech, not wanting to impact himself or his friends. But when you’re out getting drunk in an attempt to forget your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, and he’s trying to get you home a certain word slips out and it doesn’t quite have the intended effect.

Thanks to the cum/come discourse for sparking this idea.

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dubious consent (to be safe— Toge uses his cursed speech on reader without consent but she likes it), exhibitionism, voyeurism, public setting, unestablished relationship, intoxication.

Word Count: 3k.

You didn’t expect your weekend to end like this. Saturday evening you’d been happily planning a holiday with your boyfriend, and then by Sunday morning, you’d broken up. His speech had started with an “it’s not you, it’s me” before you’d ended up throwing him out of your house and calling your best friend Maki.

And that’s how you’d found yourself in some shitty bar in a rough part of town on a fucking Sunday evening as you throw back drinks to try to numb the pain. It was surprisingly busy inside the dingy bar, and you were just glad it wasn’t one of the band nights they seemingly had each weekend if the obnoxious posters splashed all over the walls were anything to go by. The loud music pounding through the speakers was enough to set the vibe without being so overbearing that it vibrated through to your skull.

Being with your friends arguably made things worse as you glanced across the table at Maki and Nobara who were so clearly in love— why couldn’t you have something like that?

Lamenting softly you eyed your empty glass before honing in on the warm dregs for Yuuta’s fruity cocktail. Watered down by melting ice as you slurped the rest of it back through his straw, left making an irritating noise as you tried to get every last drop of alcohol from the bottom of the glass.

“Yeah, I think you got it all.” Megumi groaned in irritation as he took the hurricane glass out of your grasp, placing it back in front of Yuuta as he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get another one.” You huffed, tapping his thigh to let you out of the booth as he moved to stand.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Megumi countered but did not attempt to stop you as you approached the bar. Clumsily weaving through the other patrons who loitered around the area with drinks in hand, as you narrowly missed walking into a guy holding two beers.

Toge watched you closely as you made a beeline for the bar. He was just happy to be here with you at first, nursing his beer as condensation began to ripple down the bottle as the liquid built to room temperature. The blunt nail on his thumb scratched at the damp silver Asahi label as he languidly peeled it from the bottle. His eyes focused on you as you leaned over the bar to order another round of shots, your skirt raised just enough that he could probably get a peek of the panties you were wearing tonight — not that he hadn’t accidentally snuck a glimpse when you’d crossed your legs on the train into the city earlier (pink, they were pink) — but this meant if he could see your panties now so could any other pervert in this dingy dive bar.

Fuck.

“Toge?” Yuuji calls, “Where are you going?”

Toge waves him off as he moves on instinct. Abandoning his long-forgotten beer as he navigates himself through the crowd towards you, violet eyes glancing at a man who was clearly checking you out as his brows creased into a frown. Deliberately coming to stand behind you to hide your ass from the perverts in the room as he lays a gentle hand on the small of your back.

It’s the way your eyes light up when you see him that has his heart thunderous in his chest, so loud he thinks you could probably hear it over the abrasive drum and bass track that was currently playing.

“Toge!” You turn to greet him, as though you weren’t just sitting beside him in the booth moments earlier.

“Takana?” He looked at you with concerned eyes as your smile faltered.

You’d definitely had too much to drink.

“But I don’t wanna leave yet, Toge.” You pouted at his question, your arms immediately curled around his shoulders as he had to take a step back to prevent his increasingly evident bulge from pressing against your front, “And I just ordered us more shots!”

“Okaka.“ Toge frowned, already certain you wouldn’t be able to stand if you had much more.

“Don’t be like that,” You pouted, “You said you were gonna come out with me tonight to make me forget him, but you haven’t even danced with me.”

If you’d thought Toge had any inclination to dance with you, you should’ve been sorely mistaken. But the thought of you going anywhere without him dressed like this had a rage burning in his chest as he thought about anyone else laying even just a finger on you.

“Sujiko.” He motioned to leave, his warm palm splayed against your hip as his fingers pressed into you. Feeling the plush of your body dip beneath his hand as his thoughts ran rampant, thinking about how pretty you’d look beneath him while he palmed every curve.

“You’re no fun,” You furrowed your brows, and your bottom lip jutted out so adorably that he had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you. For the first time, he wished that his cursed speech worked on the user because he’d shout a resounding “Don’t do it!” just to get himself to stop.

“Okaka.” He repeated, thankful you could barely see his face beneath his mask as a pastel pink dusted his cheeks. Toge never wanted you to think he was boring, the banter you’d managed to maintain even though you were dating a less favourable guy kept him close to you despite your relationship. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that you’d finally broken up, even if it meant you were hurting now.

“Oh, yeah— you are fun?” You teased. Toge could see the cogs in your head working as you motioned back to the bar, “Then do a shot with me.”

Toge sighed beneath his mask as he kept one of his arms poised around your waist in a subtle sign of possession as he came to stand beside you at the bar. Glaring at the bright blue liqueur that’s sat in a rather large-looking shot glass— just thankful it wasn’t whiskey again.

He didn’t enjoy letting alcohol get the best of him, especially with his cursed speech. It lowered his inhibitions and made him more susceptible to talking, which could be a danger in itself. Texting someone to “go die” playfully during a game or banter was one thing, but actually saying it when he’s shitfaced would have dire consequences.

“Shake shake,” Toge replied.

The delighted squeal you let out at his answer as he moved his arm from its position to pull his collar down made his lips curl into a smile as he reached out for the glass. Holding it gently as he waited for you to do the same as you leaned your body weight against him, your perfume invading his senses as he tried to remember to breathe.

God, you’re so tipsy.

“Three, two, one—” You practically sing as you throw the shot back.

Toge mimics your movements, not expecting the shot to burn as much as it does as it travels down his throat. Tempted to pull out his cough medicine to try and alleviate the tension, but it’s quickly forgotten when he watches your reaction. Your face is scrunched up adorably in disgust as you stick your tongue out, slamming the glass back down on the bar as you make a cute sound of repulsion.

“I thought it would taste nice because it’s blue,” You whine, “That was even worse than the last one— let me get us something else.”

Your words are slurred as you move to lean back over the bar, trying to get the barman’s attention as Toge tries to pull you back.

“Okaka.” He shakes his head, moving his hand from around your waist in favour of wagging a finger in front of you.

He wants to shout at you, remind you that you promised you’d leave after this, but he doesn’t. Pulling his mask back up around his lips to avoid temptation as he tries to move you away from the bar.

“Tuna tuna.” He presses, as you move back to lean against him. Your arms back around his shoulders as you sway from side to side.

“But I don’t wanna go yet, Toge,” You pout, “It’s still so early.”

Toge ignores your statement as he manages to walk you far enough from the bar that you’re not in danger of ordering more shots. The guy behind the bar was giving you far more attention than necessary and he’s certain he would’ve left the bottle if you’d given him the option.

“Tuna.” He murmurs as you pull his mask down to stare up at his face. Giving him the same childish pout as he mirrored your actions with a pout of his own, showing off his curse marks as you resist the urge to stroke them.

“You go home Toge, but I wanna stay,” You huff, you throw your head back childishly and Toge has to tighten his grip on your waist to prevent you from falling backwards, “Yuuji will take me home.”

Toge was smart enough to know that Yuuji would be completely incapable of getting you home after the sheer number of two-for-one strawberry daiquiris he’d consumed tonight as he gave you a deadpan look.

“Shake shake.” He replied sarcastically, his voice oozing with ridicule. Keeping his grip on your hip as he tried to move you to leave but you kept your feet planted in place.

“Come on, just one more shot and then we’ll go—”

Of course, he should’ve known you wouldn’t be satisfied with one, and the adorable pout on your lips would usually have been enough to have him crumbling, but he needed to get you home.

You shook your head immaturely when he tried again to pull you away from the bar, practically whining as you begged him to stay, causing a disgruntled grunt to vibrate in his chest as he tugged your arm.

“Come.” The word left his lips before he’d even thought about the implication, already turning his body to leave.

And it should’ve made you follow him— But that isn’t how his cursed speech decides to work, and that’s definitely not where your mind is right now.

You can feel it before it happens, your body torn from your consciousness as you feel the familiar tingles of energy pulse through your veins as your climax builds in your pelvis— but this is different. The desire blooms so hard and fast that it’s impossible to fight it, as you try to clamp your thighs together to satiate the ache as your arms tighten around Toge’s shoulders.

He knows what he’s done before he sees it happen. The pleasured look on your face as your thick lashes flutter and your glossy lips part in a shameless whine, manicured nails drag against the messy hair at the base of his skull as your legs become weak. Leaning more of your weight against his a debauched, desperate whine spills from your lips.

Oh, shit. It’s loud, and he’s certain someone has got to have heard it, protectively pulling you closer as though he’s afraid someone else might get to see you like this.

Toge feels his cock respond, pulsing against his pants as it begs to be set free. To feel your trembling walls hug him tightly as he slides into you for the first time— he’s fucked his fist more times than he cares to count to this image, and somehow seeing it here and now could never compare to all those dirty fantasies he’s had about you.

The pleasure is all-consuming and nothing compared to the orgasms you’ve had in the past. It feels as though an invisible energy has injected its way into your veins and has filled you with an inexplicable warmth as your climax surges through you in harsh waves. The intensity has you weak at the knees as you cling to Toge to stop yourself from buckling to the floor, burying your face in his neck as Toge wishes he could see the way your eyes roll as your lashes tickle his throat and your lipstick smears against his collar, not that he cares—

It’s too much, too intense as your hole clenches around nothing and your clit pulses. Thankful for the loud music coming out through the speakers as a sinful whine spills from your lips, your hips jerk wildly as you feel Toge’s hard cock press against your tummy. His breath comes out in harsh pants as he tries to think of something, anything to stop himself from creaming his pants. Already feeling the fresh pre drooling out of his cockhead and soaking his boxers at the mere sight of you.

“Fu-uck, Toge.” You whimper, your nails drag against his scalp as your fingers weave into his messy hair to tug roughly. Stealing a sudden gasp from the back of his throat as he feels you press your body against his.

Toge tries to commit the sound of your moans to memory. The sultry, debased sound of your voice crying out his name as he forced an orgasm from you that he’ll no doubt be fucking his fist to later tonight as he feels your breasts drag against his chest. He feels like a pervert for getting off on this, no better than the men who were loitering around the bar for a glimpse up your skirt.

A real creep— but somehow this was worth it, he thinks.

In all those nefarious thoughts he’s ever had about you while he’s stroking his cock, he’s never once imagined you’d look this good. Completely ruined by him, and he hadn’t even touched you. The corrupt whines he’d stolen from your lips continue well into the tremours of your orgasm as he clings to the sound of them, unabashedly shifting closer so he can hear the high-pitched breathy whines you make over the music playing through the speakers.

He doesn’t even care if your friends can see at this point if he’ll be roasted in the group chat or vilified for it later. He reckons it would all be worth it having finally seen you fall apart for him like this.

And little did Toge know that you didn’t seem to mind much either. Your ex had never made you cum like that— an all-encompassing climax that left you feeling like putty. Your legs quivered as you felt the aftershocks continue to trickle through you all the way down to the tips of your toes. An impassioned energy that had your mind hazy, laced with cheap alcohol as it managed to consume your consciousness.

It’s embarrassing. Knowing that anyone could turn to watch you in the crowded bar, to see just how blissed out you are as you lose control of your body and your senses. The pleasure practically forced itself upon you as you drown in it, wishing he’d help you through it with his fingers against your clit or inside your empty cunt as it continued to flex completely empty. Wondering if this is what he could do with his cursed speech, what Toge would be able to do with his hand— with his cock.

You were looking up at him with the most fucked out expression on your face, it made it difficult for Toge not to want to kiss you— especially with your lips so close.

“Fucking hell, Toge,” You exhaled shakily as you clung to him, “That was—”

He locks his jaw to bite back the urge to cough, trying to swallow it in his throat as he moves to pull his mask back over his face. Hoping to shield his now crimson cheeks but your hand is quicker, reaching out to prevent him from pulling it up.

Toge wraps your wrist in a rough palm to tug your hand away from his mask with a frown, feeling his thumb press into your pulse point as you practically whine at him. Your hips still gyrating as you start to come down from your bliss, his eyes flit out to see if anyone seems to have noticed but thankfully the bar is raucous as he holds you against him as you continue to ride the little aftershocks of pleasure.

You use your grip on the back of his head to tug him down to your height, your glossy lips barely graze his as you press your lips together. A kiss that leaves him craving more as his tongue peeks out to swipe at the gloss, tasting the sugary hint of cherry as you go cross-eyed looking at the curse mark on his tongue.

Toge can’t stop himself now, one taste and he’s addicted. His warm palm smooth along your side as he maps out the curves of your body, inching his way up until he finds your face. Cupping your cheek in his hand as he leans forward to kiss you, his lips press firmly against yours as you gasp softly, allowing his tongue to delve further as he strokes it against every crevice. Tilting his head to deepen the kiss as you brush your tongue against his gently, feeling yourself melt into him as your hand's ball into fists in the fabric of his shirt.

He knows it’s wrong. You’re inebriated, he’s already taken advantage of you by using his cursed speech and yet he can’t stop himself. You’re like a drug and he’s addicted as he longs for one more taste, just another hit and then he’ll quit— except he never wants to quit you.

Toge has never felt so much disdain for the basic human need to breathe as he reluctantly breaks the kiss, keeping his lips pressed against yours as he pants against you. Your warm breath fans his face as half-lidded eyes meet his, your lipstick now smeared across the sides of your lips and chin as you give him a sweet smile.

“Toge,” You whine, “You didn’t have to use your cursed speech on me to make me cum.”

“Ikura.” He curses beneath his breath at the sultry lilt to your tone.

“Can you make me cum again without it?” You ask so sweetly it has his body reacting before his mind as his neglected cock throbs beneath his pants.

Yeah, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

#toge inumaki smut #inumaki x reader

2K notes · View notes