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bianquitasunderworld · 1 year ago

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dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

#dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #kick ass x reader #kick ass fanfic #dave lizewski #dave lizewski smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #atj x reader #kick ass 2 #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski fic #dave lizewski fanfic

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gothicfied · 8 days ago

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more for 124 :(((((((

Hand in Hand - Nam-gyu / Player 124

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x Reader

Summary: The fight in the men's bathroom and the rising tension between players gave you much to worry about, but Nam-gyu gave you to comfort you needed

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 721 words

A/N: Tihihihi, I love this man fr. I hope this isn't too cringe🧍‍♀️

You couldn't sleep, actually, no one was able to sleep. Sitting on the bed under you was Nam-gyu, who didn't want to talk to you - talk to anybody - after the fight was broken up. You immediately understood what was up when he yelled out that the men who voted 'X' had attacked them, killing some of the players. Thanos didn't return. Yeah, it was pretty obvious why he seemed so pissed off, so shell-shocked. Quietly, you sat up, carefully leaning down to see what he was doing. Nam-gyu was biting his fingernails, eyeing Thanos' cross necklace that he was holding in his slightly shaky hands. Seeing you leaning down from the corner of his eye, he frowned.

"What?"

"I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I'm scared.."

Nam-gyu's face immediately softened upon hearing your words. He swallowed hard and hastily tucked the necklace into his pocket, gesturing for you to come down and sit next to him. As gently as possible to not catch anyone elses attention, you dropped down from your bed and leaned against the headboard of Nam-gyu's bed, your shoulder pressed against his. "Are you sad?" you asked quietly, just looking down at your lap as you spoke. You heard his breath hitching for a moment, but he still asked you what you meant by that. "Sad about- well you know." Silence.

Nam-gyu wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. He has witnessed so many deaths in this place by now and none of them have affected him in the slightest. He didn't know them well, so why should he care about a random player? "Because, I'm not sure if I should be." your voice interrupted his thoughts. Slowly, he turned his head your way, taking in your side profile in the dim light. "Nah," Nam-gyu chuckled, "he was an asshole. Had it coming, in my opinion." Despite his words, he sounded bitter. It's not like he didn't mean them, because that's exactly how Thanos was, but they still had some kind of.. friendship.

You met his gaze, your eyes wandering over his face covered in splatters of blood. That was worrying by itself, but you didn't have any interest in asking about what role he played in that fight. "And why are you scared?" You looked at him like he asked you the most stupid question in the world.

"Come on, you know everyone will try to kill each other now."

"And you know that I won't let anything happen to you."

Ever since he defended you from a group of men, who were making more than weird comments about you, immediately on the first day you woke up in this hellhole, you've just stuck with him. On multiple occasions now, Nam-gyu has proven that he actually won't let anything or anyone harm you. Why? He doesn't know it, either. He just likes you and you didn't take that for granted. Nam-gyu made you feel safe, you trusted him, even if that's hard to believe. Usually, he'd be compliant with what Thanos would say or tell him to do, just not when he was giving you a hard time — That's partially why he just couldn't feel sorry for that man.

Slowly, Nam-gyu wrapped his arm around your neck, making you lean your head against his. The silence between you two was never awkward and more comforting than anything. You were able to hear faint whispers of other players, feet tapping the ground and the occasional cough from that old guy, Player 100. Nam-gyu's hair tickled the side of your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Whatever happens tonight, I promise I'll keep you safe."

#squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid games #squid games x reader #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu squid game #player 124 x reader #player 124

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sweet1delusi0ns · 6 months ago

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Class 1A boys being called pretty──☆*:・ﾟ

MHA + fem!reader

Established ! Relationships

Characters: Izuku, katsuki, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, Denki, Sero, Tokoyami, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Shoji, Koji!

IZUKU~

“Hey pretty boy!” “Erm no. I prefer…handsome” “speak up!” “I said I prefer to be called handsome.” He grumbles “Well pretty Boy rolls off the tongue better so I’m sticking to it. Now get to class, pretty boy~” “but- I..- fine…thanks for the compliment…” he walks away mopey but flustered by the compliment. Later he says how he doesn’t mind you calling him that, but he’s stubborn so he mumbles while explaining that he doesn’t mind

KATSUKI~

“How’s your day pretty boy?” You sneak up in hun so he didn’t realize it was you “WHO SAID THAT? IM GUNNA K- oh” he turns around to see you with an unimpressed look “sorry…was that you who called me that?” “Uh yeah…?” “Hm. Whatever, I GUESS it’s fine.” Later he asks you to call him pretty again while cuddling after school but shhh don’t tell anyone-

SHOTO~

“Hey babe!” He was currently sitting in the lunch room alone waiting for you “hi y/n…” “youre looking very pretty today~ you almost sparkle” you joke “I sparkle? Is there glitter on me?” “No…it’s a joke. But you do look pretty!” “Oh…thank you love…” he whispers that last part since he’s somewhat caught off guard, he never really thought someone would call him attractive let alone pretty

TENYA~

Rarely do you see him without glasses so when he took them off to clean them you had to say something. “You’re really pretty…” “hm?” “You. You’re really pretty” his jaw drops along with his glasses. He picks them up and puts them back on before turning away from you to calm down “why would y/n say that, is it just because I’m her boyfriend or is it genuine?” He whispered “I can hear you pretty boy!” “AGH!”

EIJIROU~

“You’re kinda pretty…” You say holding your cheek “what?” “You’re kinda pretty.” “What no really…?” “Yeah really~” “ah jeez…thanks y/n…” it really made him feel better, like REALLY he wouldn’t leave you alone for the rest of the week. Through out the day you could hear him say “do it again!” “Please!!!” “Just call me pretty one more time?” But not in front of anyone! He can’t be caught being soft even though it’s obvious

DENKI~

“How was class pretty boy?” He just sits there with a dumb look at he thinks for a second “what?!” “How was your class?” “NO! The other thing.” “Pretty boy?” “Huehehehe yeah” he sits there biting his lip looking dumb “ok I’m never calling you that again.” “NO that’s NOT fair!” “Then stop being stupid.”

SERO~

“Aw Man cant You Call me anything else? Maybe dashing or something?” “Aw whyy? You don’t like being called pretty?” “Well…not in front of everyone, no.” He whispers “but I guess it’s ok…please call me that in private later…” “don’t worry I will!”

TOKOYAMI~

“You’re honestly kinda pretty…never really thought about it but you’re really majestic” he blinks a few times before responding “I literally have a bird head how is that pretty?” “Birds are really pretty…don’t you think?” You say softly “Uhm…yes some bird are very beautiful” you flash a smile “exactly” he closes his eyes and crosses his arms, once you look away he smiles

AOYAMA~

Dude he loves it?! “Hey pretty boy” “well I am quiet pretty aren’t I?” He winks “just take the compliment.” He pouts “fine…just say it again” “ugh…you’re very pretty..and sparkly” “you are the love of my life~!” He says with actual tears in his eyes

OJIRO~

“Why pretty?” “Why not?” “i guess you have a point” you nod, he starts to fiddle with his tail before speaking “you really think I’m attractive? Let alone pretty?” You scoff “hell yeah!” “Wow…thanks!” He hugs his tail with a dumb smile

SATO~

“You look reallyyy pretty when you’re focused on baking!” He looks away from the counter and over to you “what?” “You look pretty Sato!” He inhaled and gives you a wiggly smile “thanks y/n! I’ll make you some cookies too…” he says almost shyly

SHOJI~

He was changing his mask infront of you and you decided to speak up “you know all those scars look really pretty on you” “…w-what?” “You look pretty! With and without your mask” “uhm well..I uh- you know…thank you.” He lets his head fall in embarrassment, but also feeling confident after what you said. “Even prettier when you blush” “STOP”

KOJI~

“Hey pretty boy!” “*squeals*” end of story.

Jk; “hey pretty boy!” He looks over at you, before covering his face with his hands, letting out a whiny “stop,stop,stop…” “haha! I’m just trying to compliment you! You deserve it?” “*squealing noises* stop…” “why?” “He peaks his eye out of his hands “because…I can’t handle it…”

Hi….this ain’t proof read😋

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joelmillerisapunk · 2 months ago

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Lunch Break | 3.6K

Javier Peña x coworker f!reader

Summary: Javi edges you at work

Warnings: unprotected p in v, fingering, oral, reader has hair that's pullable, vibrator, public sex, lots of edging

Notes: This is the only Javier fic I've ever written so sorry if everything is not great to his characterization. I hope you enjoy. A big thank you to the sweetest @sawymredfox for reading this for me and helping me with the Spanish love you so much! Thank you to my love @thundermartini for reading bits and pieces for me love you love you! and @syd-djarin for the mood board love youuuu!

Masterlist

Reality dawns on you while seated on the hard black leather chair in the conference room—everyone filing in—you realize with a sinking heart that in your haste this morning, you neglected to remove your vibrator from its spot in your back pocket ‘Fuck’, you chide yourself silently, 'you can be so stupid sometimes.'

With an air of nonchalance that belies your inner turmoil—the embarrassment of potentially being caught with such an intimate item—you navigate towards the back corner where solace awaits by way of a coffee pot; 'Just get through this meeting,' you reassure yourself, 'then it's straight to your car.'

As you stand by the coffee machine, the weight of the object in your back pocket feels conspicuous. You can't help but wonder if it's as noticeable to others as it is to you. Before you can even pour that first cup of coffee—a balm for your nerves Javier Peña sidles up next to you, his own cup of black coffee already in hand “Why does it look like there's a giant bullet in your back pocket?” he queries with an infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

"Why are you staring at my ass, Peña?” You lean against the surface of the coffee machine and muster up enough bravado for one last retort before this encounter ends mercifully soon; "Maybe I’m housing the next big thing in bullet technology," you toss back at Peña with feigned nonchalance while internally cursing yourself for not double-checking your pockets this morning like you usually do. You fill up your cup from the pot, hoping he takes the hint and moves away. But instead of leaving, he stays put and reaches into your pocket. Your spin around and your face burns with embarrassment as he holds up what he found - a pink vibrator - between his thumb and forefinger. You stand there, momentarily shocked—but honestly, not really. This kind of childish, middle-school game is typical of Javier. Always stirring the pot, always trying to get a reaction. You glance around the room, noting how everyone else is busy with their own conversations, laughing or small-talking, completely oblivious to the little scene unfolding between you and Javi.

Your eyes snap back to him, your annoyance clear as you extend your hand. “Give it back,” you demand, voice firm.

“Not until you tell me what it is,” he says, holding the item just out of reach with a teasing knowing smirk.

“Oh my god,” you groan, exasperated. “Just give it here, and I’ll show you.” You stand there, arm still outstretched, palm up, waiting for him to cooperate. The irritation bubbling inside you is hard to contain, especially since it seems painfully obvious to you what it is.

Javi finally relents, placing it into your palm with a grin that suggests he knows he’s gotten under your skin. You curl your fingers around the hard plastic, sighing as your other hand moves to the opposite end of the device. Twisting it, the small pink vibrator quietly buzzes to life.

You lock eyes with him, deadpan. “Happy?”

Without waiting for a response, you switch it off and shove it back into your pocket, hoping to move past this absurd moment.

Javier blinks at you, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering across his face. It’s clear he’s not entirely shocked—like a part of him always suspected you weren’t as straight-laced as you let on.

“So damn gullible. Why the fuck did you bring that to work?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

"That's confidential, Peña—classified. Don’t ever touch my shit again, or I’m reporting you." You spin on your heel and stride away, your shoulders tight with frustration, planting yourself in a chair at the far end of the table. Javier Peña stands frozen for a moment, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he watches you leave.

The meeting drags on endlessly, each passing moment heavier than the last but as soon as it concludes, you bolt from the room, your legs carrying you to the parking lot faster than you thought possible. You yank the car door open, drop into the driver’s seat, and slam it shut, letting your body sink into the cool leather. A hand runs over your face, rubbing away the tension, but it’s futile—every muscle hums with unresolved stress.

Always stressed. That’s your perpetual state. Nothing—not meditation, not the strongest caffeine jolt—seems to dull the edge. You need something real, but since that isn’t an option, you opt for the only relief within reach.

You sit up, retrieving the travel-sized vibrator stashed in your back pocket. Your eyes dart around, ensuring the parking lot is deserted. Once satisfied, you unbutton your dress pants, pushing them down just far enough to slip the device against your throbbing clit. The buzz sends immediate relief coursing through you, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

Your breath quickens; your core tightens. You're so close—on the brink—when the passenger seat suddenly dips. The car shifts as someone slams the door shut.

“I knew you were a slut,” Javier’s voice drawls, dripping with amusement.

You gasp, fumbling to switch off the vibrator, but his hand catches your wrist, halting you mid-motion. You glance up, startled, meeting his dark, mischievous gaze.

“Finish,” he commands, his voice firm, laced with dominance. “I can wait.”

Your lips part, a protest forming, but it dies in your throat as his free hand grips your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His voice drops lower, “I said finish.”

A shiver races down your spine as goosebumps erupt across your skin. He releases your wrist and chin, giving you control again—or so it seems.

Your hand trembles as you reposition the vibrator, pressing it against your clit once more. The vibrations hit, and your head falls back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed. Javier watches intently, lighting a cigarette as though savoring a fine performance.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Such a good girl. So pretty.”

The buildup to your orgasm is overwhelming, every nerve in your body attuned to Javier's command. You grab his arm, your nails sinking into his skin as a moan tears from your lips—raw, unrestrained, louder than you’ve allowed yourself in so long. His large, tan hand covers your mouth instantly.

“Shhh, baby, you gotta keep it down,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low. He waits until your breathing steadies before easing his hand away, but then he stops everything. The vibrator’s buzz fades as he pulls it away, leaving you teetering painfully on the edge.

Your body jolts when his fingers slide inside you without warning replacing the vibrations. A gasp escapes your lips, your back arching as pleasure spikes through you. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, each stroke precise and maddeningly effective. The rhythm he sets sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, pulling you closer to release. You feel yourself tightening around him, every movement driving you closer and closer. And then, just as you’re about to unravel completely, he stops.

His fingers leave you empty, aching, desperate. Before you can even protest, he brings them to his mouth, his tongue sweeping over his fingers to taste you. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he licks them clean, savoring every second of your helpless frustration.

He glances at his watch, the smirk on his lips cutting through your haze. "Oh, look at that—lunch is over. Better get back in there, agent."

Without another word, he opens the car door and steps out, leaving you breathless, trembling, and yearning for more as he strides away like nothing just happened.

The next morning, you arrive at the office earlier than usual, your frustration still simmering from how Peña left you high and dry the day before. Scanning his office from your desk, you note it’s still empty. You settle at your computer, trying to focus on work, but the irritation gnaws at you.

When he finally walks into his office, you pause, considering if confronting him is really a good idea. Then you remember the way he left you wanting yesterday, and resolve steels your spine.

Once you’re sure he’s alone, you stride to his office, closing the door firmly behind you and locking it with a deliberate click. The sound makes him glance up from the papers he’s working on. His eyebrows lift in mild surprise as he sees you. “Can I help you, agent?”

You don’t respond immediately. Instead, you walk up to his desk, fixing him with a stern glare. One hand presses against the clutter of paperwork, steadying you, while the other gestures for him to come closer.

He hesitates but complies, leaning forward just enough for you to grab his tie. You yank him toward you, bringing his face mere inches from yours. In a low, dangerous whisper, you let your irritation bleed through:

“If you ever fucking edge me like that again, I’ll report you for breaking into my vehicle, Agent Peña. Maybe this time, you’ll do better.”

Releasing him, you step back, smoothing your expression to one of cold indifference. Without another word, you place a small black box on his desk, turn on your heel, and leave his office. You return to your desk, seamlessly slipping back into your work as though nothing just happened.

Inside his office, Javier sits back in his chair, adjusting his shirt with an unreadable expression. His gaze lingers on the box you left behind. He picks it up and flips it open, revealing a small, pink, oval-shaped controller with simple directional commands: up, down, left, and right.

At first, he frowns, puzzled. Then he notices the folded piece of white paper tucked inside. Opening it, his eyes scan the words written in your unmistakable handwriting:

This controls the vibrator currently in my pussy. Edge me to your heart’s content, but if you don’t finish me by the end of the day, I’m reporting you for touching my ass in the conference room.

Javier smirks as he places the box and note in his desk drawer, slipping the controller into the right pocket of his DEA jacket. He doesn’t turn it on yet—he’s waiting. This little game the two of you are playing amuses him, and he knows there’s another meeting scheduled today. All he has to do is bide his time.

When everyone gathers in the conference room and takes their seats, the meeting begins. It’s not remotely important—just some pointless presentation from personnel management. Javi positions himself near the back of the room, leaning casually by the coffee pot. You, on the other hand, are seated near the front, far from him.

You try to focus, your pen tapping lightly on the notepad in front of you, but it’s impossible. This is, without a doubt, the most useless meeting you’ve ever attended. Your gaze wanders across the room, scanning faces aimlessly until your eyes land on Javi’s.

He’s already looking at you, his dark eyes filled with mischief. A smirk tugs at his lips, and he winks before raising his brows suggestively. His hand dips into his pocket, and he nods slightly, drawing your attention to the movement.

It takes you a second to piece it together, but when you do, your eyes widen in realization. He’s going to use the controller—here, in the middle of a meeting, surrounded by nearly every colleague you have.

Your heart races as you shoot him a sharp look, pursing your lips in a silent plea. You shake your head subtly, trying to convey, No, what the hell are you thinking?

But before you can finish the thought, your body betrays you. A sudden, uncontrollable jolt runs through you as the vibrations hit, intense and overwhelming. You grip the arms of the black leather chair, your lips parting in a silent gasp as the sensation floods through you, heat pooling low in your stomach.

Javi’s smirk deepens from across the room, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to keep your composure.

That fucking bastard. That fucking beautiful bastard.

Your gaze locks with his, and he lifts a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to stay silent with a teasing "shhh." Your breath hitches as you try to compose yourself, the relentless vibrations from the hidden toy driving you to the brink. Closing your eyes for a moment, you fight to keep your expression neutral, but your lips part involuntarily as your climax builds.

You’re soaked, your underwear and the chair beneath you bearing the evidence of your struggle. The need to release is overwhelming, the sensation climbing higher and higher. Suddenly, a gasp escapes you, your hands gripping the arms of the chair to ground yourself. The sound draws the attention of everyone in the room, and every pair of eyes turns your way.

“Agent, are you okay? Something you’d like to share?” the coordinator asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe you’re coming down with something,” Javi adds, his voice laced with false concern. His lips twitch as he fights back a smirk, his hand slipping subtly into his pocket. He presses the controller, ramping up the intensity.

The sudden surge of vibrations makes you jump in your leather chair, your whole body jolting with adrenaline. “No, I—I’m fine,” you stammer, voice shaky as you desperately try to suppress a moan. “Just… tired. S-sorry.”

The coordinator studies you for a moment, then nods. “Alright. If everyone’s ready, let’s continue.” The room finally shifts its focus back to the presentation.

Your chest heaves as you dig your nails into the chair’s arms, eyes squeezed shut. The vibrations grow impossibly stronger, and you know Javi is enjoying this far too much. He sits there like he owns the room, his posture relaxed, his expression smug. The sight of him only fuels your frustration.

Just as the peak feels inevitable, the vibrations stop.

The silence in your body is deafening, leaving you reeling from the sudden absence. You whip your head toward him, your glare is full of unspoken threats. He meets your gaze, shrugs casually, and smirks—that infuriating, half-cocked smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him senseless.

He’s winning this game, and you hate how much you love it.

The meeting finally wraps up, and you return to your desk, finding it just as empty and uninspiring as before. You try to focus on your laptop screen, willing yourself to concentrate, but it’s a losing battle. All you can think about is Javier—and how badly you want him to touch you, to finish you.

Without a second thought, you stand and head straight for his office. The urgency in your steps gives you no time for decorum; you push the door open without knocking and slam it shut behind you.

Javier looks up, one brow arching in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

You plant your hands on your hips, frustration seeping through your voice. “You did it again.”

His lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Did what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Peña.” You extend one hand toward him, the other still fixed on your hip. “Give me back the controller. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fucking concentrate.”

“Oh, this?” he asks, holding up the remote. His smirk deepens as he flicks the device back on. The sudden vibration against your core sends a jolt through you, and your hands dart out to brace yourself against his desk.

“So, you really want me to stop?” he drawls, standing from his chair with deliberate slowness. “Or maybe you’d rather I give you the real thing? You tell me, sweetheart—what do you want?”

His voice is low and teasing as he approaches, his towering frame closing the distance between you. He places his hands on the desk, as you turn around to follow his movements, caging you in. You try to hold his gaze, but the intensity is too much. After a few seconds, your eyes flutter shut.

“Please…” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face.

Your resolve shatters as his lips hover close to yours. “Stop…” you manage to mumble weakly, even as your arms reach up, wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

Javier’s hands grip you, firm and possessive, as his mouth captures yours in a heated kiss. The vibrator’s hum fades into the background as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring you with unrestrained hunger. Your thoughts dissolve, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of his touch and the euphoria of his kiss.

When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smirk so devastating it leaves you breathless. His hand trails on your thighs, teasing at the hem of your skirt.

“Javi,” you plead.

Instead of replying, his fingers slip beneath your panties, pushing the fabric aside. He pulls the still-buzzing vibrator from you with a deliberate slowness, your slickness coating his fingers. Tossing it carelessly onto some paperwork, he lifts you onto the edge of the desk. His dark eyes meet yours, filled with a hunger that makes your pulse race.

With practised ease, he pushes your skirt up to your hips and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down and tossing them aside. The cool air against your bare skin sends a shiver through you.

Before you can truly process what’s happening, Javier helps you down and spins you around, pressing your chest down against the desk. His firm grip pins your wrists behind your back. The sensation makes you moan.

“You just can’t keep that pretty little mouth shut, can you?” he taunts, his voice dripping with mockery. Reaching around, he stuffs your damp panties into your mouth, silencing any reply.

The metallic clink of his belt buckle hitting the floor echoes in the room, followed by the low rasp of his zipper. Your heart pounds as you feel his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back toward him.

Javier leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “Think you can be quiet now? Or do I need to remind you how to behave, mi niña buena?”

His question hangs in the air as your muffled whimper escapes through the gag. Behind you, his cock presses against you, and the anticipation coils tightly in your stomach, ready to snap.

You nod eagerly as the wet fabric is pulled from your mouth. He grabs your arm, helping you up, then points to the ground. “On your knees.”

You obey without hesitation, sinking down as he steps closer. His cock is in your mouth again in an instant, stretching your lips as he thrusts forward, letting out a deep grunt like he hasn’t had release in weeks—whether it’s a pussy, a mouth, or even his own hand. His grip tightens in your hair, holding you steady as he pushes deeper into your throat.

“So pretty when you’re sucking cock, tan hermosa” he rasps, his voice rough and dripping with lust.

The initial sting fades as you adjust to his size, letting him slide deeper with every thrust. His cock twitches in your throat before he suddenly pulls out, leaving you gasping on the floor. You look up at him, wide-eyed and eager, your lips glistening as you catch your breath.

He wastes no time pulling you to your feet, turning you and bending you over the desk. His hands slide down your body, one stopping between your thighs to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. The sudden stimulation sends shocks through your body, making you shudder.

“Fuck! Please!” you beg, your voice cracking under the tension.

He doesn’t answer, instead slipping your underwear back into your mouth to muffle your cries. “No estàs siendo una niña buena, tienes que estar callada, bebé,” he murmurs, his tone dark but calm.

Without warning, he slams into you, stretching you wide as his cock fills you completely. The muffled sound you make is a mix of pain and pleasure, your body clenching around him as you struggle to adjust to his size. His hips drive forward relentlessly, each thrust pressing deeper until the ache melts into pure bliss.

Your fingers grip the edge of the desk as waves of pleasure roll through you. His cock feels impossibly thick inside you, and every stroke makes your legs tremble beneath his weight. He notices, leaning down close to your ear.

“Come on, baby.” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I know how badly you want to cum all over my cock.”

His words push you over the edge. Your body spasms as your orgasm hits, goosebumps prickling along your skin. A muffled moan escapes you as you tighten around him, trembling uncontrollably as the intensity consumes you.

He doesn’t stop. His thrusts grow harder and faster, driving deep into you as his own climax builds. The desk creaks under the force, and your body feels like it might give out, soaked in your own release. His growls turn guttural, animalistic, as his cock twitches violently inside you.

With one final thrust, he spills into you, hot and thick, his grip bruising as he holds you close. His hips slow, his body shuddering as he rides out his release, his breath ragged against your neck.

After a moment, he drops your arms, letting them fall limply to your sides. You slide down to your knees, your back leaning against the desk as you pant, trying to steady yourself.

He crouches in front of you, his hand cupping your face. Tilting your chin up, he makes you meet his gaze, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before standing, adjusting his clothes as if nothing happened. Without another word, he strides out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you breathless and spent on the floor.

#javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen

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yeppeun-riaa · 10 months ago

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What do you think their type of girl is: ran, rindou, sanzu and kakucho

TR BOYS AND THEIR TYPE

MDNI 18+

Not proofread. Idk why rans own is the shortest because hes my fav😫, I got carried away with the rest😭,hope you enjoy tho, thank you for the ask��!

⋆RAN

Ran is into brats! women that are stubborn, women that have an attitude that will be the death of them, women that are way to dramatic and clingy, overall just downright bratty, he'd love to put them in their place when they decide to bitch out on him, he's sadistic and loves to watch them cry while he punishes them.

'You really thought you'd get away after pulling that shit? Then fucking think again, whore, you should be glad I'm putting that dirty mouth of yours to good use' he'd say through gritted teeth while using your mouth th get himself off.

ALSO. He likes when she plays hard to get, he always up for a challenge. I think he'd also be into very studious girs, like student council, top of all her classes type shit because it boosts his ego, and melts his heart, knowing that someone so uptight would crumble within mere seconds under his touch.

⋆RINDOU

He honestly just loves women, he really isn't that picky when it comes to his type but he would fall 10× harder for a girl if she was clingy and really into pda. You might disagree but I think rindou is a moderate fan of pda😭 he just loves all the attention he'd get.... The fact that his girlfriend would always want to hold hands or want him to have his anywhere on her body, a girl that just needs him would ignite a fire in him, he may not show it but he enjoys being wanted...

Your mouth hung agape and you saw stars as rindou thrusted into you at an inhumane pace, all while bending you almost painfully over the sink. "Fuck—rin!" You cried as his hand came down on your ass, you looked like a mess as you locked gaze with yourself in the mirror, tears streaming down your face, makeup all ruined while rindou pounded into you from behind. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself huh?" He says punctuating each word with a slap to your behind. "Don't fucking cry, you wanted this and now you'll take everything I give you and thank me after" yeah... when you came back to the others it was pretty obvious what went down.

⋆SANZU

He likes himself a bimbo, a woman that's that kind, caring, innocent and downright stupid, a girl that's book smart, but stupid in anything else. The type dumb of girl that walks around in tight clothes and thinks the men staring at her being friendly, of course he gets annoyed when she fails to realize that someone is flirting with her, or when she ask the most dumb question and won't stop fucking talking, but it's okaayyy, he loves to shut her up and teach her a lesson!!

"W-wait haru! too much" you'd yelp from your spot on the bed, trying to break free from your restraints to tug him away from your aching pussy. He smirks and runs his tongue up your slit, sticking one more finger into your tight littel hole and sucking harshly on your clit, "you're a fucking whore, if i didn't know any better I'd think you did that on purpose because you wanted a punishment" he spat harshly at you, you lost count of how many times you came, all you were sure of was that he needed to stop because it was all too much. "Baby I'm sorry! I di-didn't know he was flirting", he scoffs slapping your cunt making tears form on your waterline, "how could you not know? He was all up in your fucking face, talking about he could be better to you than me, are you dumb, or just dumb." It was a statement, not a question and you mourned seeing him sit up to undo his pants, it was gonna be a long fucking night.

⋆KAKUCHO

Kakucho is another one that just loves women♡ he's smitten for women that are confident, it drives him crazy (in a good way) when a girl is passionate and radiates good energy. That popular girl that everyone knows and loves, the girl that every guy wants, the girl that everyone would throw hands for if she ever cried. He wants that type of girl so he can be there for her, and see the side of her no one else gets to. Even the sad side that she never shows, he'll take great pride that he was able to break down her walls and be the only one too see her In that different night. He want to be the one that makes the false happiness, that no one else could detect, real.

"Shh, it's okay" he'd whisper sweet nothings I to your ear at night while he made love to you. Some nights rough, others slow and sensual, it all depended on how you felt, and right now you were sad, all you wanted was the him to love on you, melt all the sadness away. And that's exactly what he would do.

#Divider credits to @v-asearc♡#ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran smut #ran x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x reader #sanzu x reader #rindou haitani #sanzu smut #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x you #tokyo revengers #tokrev #kakucho #kakucho hitto #kakucho x reader #kakucho x you #kakucho x y/n

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puzzled-pegasus · 11 months ago

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Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

#wings of fire #wof headcanons #metaphor #idioms

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obsesssedblerd · 5 months ago

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"Who's your new teacher?" (Part 3)

Synopsis: Toji takes Megumi to his doctor's appointment, and you, his teacher, hunt for a gift to give him.

Pairing: single dad! toji x f! reader

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, protective toji, protective tsumiki, megumi being scared of doctors, mentions of shiu kong, everyone is happy bc i said so

part one here, part two here

a/n: here's part three! barely proofread. sorry for mistakes.

update: pt. 4 here

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

Though Megumi said that he would be brave, Toji Fushiguro knew his baby all too well. In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, Megumi sat stiffly beside him, clinging his dog plushie way too tight—an obvious sign that he was scared. Toji’s heart aches within his chest, and once he finishes filling out the paperwork for him, he sets the clipboard aside and pulls the small boy onto his lap. “Megs, it’s okay, I promise. We won’t be here long, alright? No scary shots.”

His eyes fill with tears, and he buries his face into Toji’s shirt with a distressed whine. Tsumiki—who was sitting next to Shiu and playing a game on his phone to pass the time—immediately lifts her head once her ears register the sound of her little brother crying, and she hands Shiu his phone back before coming to stand in front of the two of them. Toji moves an arm so she can inch her way closer to Megumi.

“Don’t worry, Gumi, we’re here,” she coos softly as she wraps an arm around Megumi’s free side, so he was being comforted by her and Toji at the same time. “Me and Papa won’t leave you alone, okay? We’re right here. You can hold my hand the entire time.”

A middle-aged man sitting across from them sighs loudly in annoyance, and Toji looks up in time to see him rolling his eyes at Megumi’s little sniffles. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, boys don’t cry.”

The concern that Toji feels for his son is immediately replaced with sheer rage, his blood boiling as he squeezes his hand into a tight fist. He’s about to open his mouth to say something, but his seven year-old daughter beats him to it. Tsumiki whirls around angrily, meeting the asshole’s stare head on. “Nobody asked you, stupid head!!” She yells.

The man’s eyes go wide, the receptionist at the front desk gasps, and a few of the other patients in the waiting room either stifle a laugh or turn the other direction. The man looks at Toji, as if expecting him to intervene on his behalf and correct his daughter. Instead, he pats Tsumiki’s shoulder and stares at him with a small smirk. “You heard her,” he tells him, his voice dark with warning. “Stupid head.”

He must’ve seen the utter violence in Toji’s eyes, because he chooses not to say anything else. Toji looks over to see Shiu giving Tsumiki a high-five. Then, Toji gives her shoulder a small, loving squeeze. “That’s my girl.”

To his relief, Megumi—who had watched the exchange silently—had finished crying and was a little bit calmer. Though he’s done crying, Toji’s little blessing decides to remain in his lap, smiling up at his sister when she turns back around to hug him some more. He notices Megumi taking slower breaths, and holding up his little fingers to count the seconds as they go by.

As he silently counts to himself, a memory from three weeks ago floods Toji’s mind. You, sitting on the ground next to Megumi, explaining a good tactic to calm himself down after crying and experiencing stress for too long. “Breathe in for four seconds,” you explained in a soft voice, holding up your fingers in front of him to count. “Then you’re going to hold for seven seconds, and finally, breathe out slowly to last eight seconds.”

Now that he’s thinking of you, Toji smiles, wondering if it would be awkward or not to send you a message after Megumi’s appointment. Just what did you like to do after work?

—

“...What?!” You shout into the phone, your heart pounding as you pace back and forth in your living room.

“Uh, sorry,” the store clerk on the other line says, gulping nervously around their words. “We’re unable to put this item on hold for you.”

Your head is spinning. You think you’re about to throw up. Your eyes drift back to your laptop which displays the email announcing the special, limited edition of the dog plushie Megumi has—a bright white one, matching the dark-colored one that he kept with him all of the time.

You subscribed to the brand’s website around a month ago, and had been keeping an eye out for it to drop so you could get one for him. Since it dropped this afternoon shortly after all of your students had gone home, you immediately knew that it would be the perfect gift after his doctor’s appointment. For the last three hours, you had been calling store after store, only to be met with disappointment when customer service revealed that they were completely sold out. It was a popular plushie, after all. You finally found a store that had the plushie in stock, but—

“How come you can’t put it on hold?!” You exclaimed. “I’ve never heard of something like this before!”

“Um, well, since the plushie is a special edition item, they can’t be ordered from the store or put on hold, just so everyone has a chance to get one. It has to be fair.”

You’re shoving your shoes on, using your shoulder to hold the phone to your ear as you grab your keys and purse. “Okay, how many are left?”

“I believe just one. They sold out super fast today.”

You didn’t care what had to happen. You were getting that damn plushie for Megumi.

—

You thank every deity that you didn’t get pulled over, and that you didn’t get into an accident. You pull into the store’s parking lot, run out of your car, skip the cart, and go straight towards the toy section. The store is busy this evening, and that worries you. You hope that you’re not too late. When you reach the aisle where the plushie is supposed to be located, you skillfully maneuver your way through the crowd of parents and kids. You are a teacher, after all.

You see the stand where the special edition plushie is supposed to be, and your heart sinks when you see that it’s completely empty. You groan as you walk down the next aisle of toys away from the crowd, reaching into your purse to grab your phone. Maybe there’s another store nearby, or even about thirty minutes away with at least three of them in stock. Maybe—

A brightly-colored package barely sticking out from underneath the rest of the stuffed animals in a large bin gets your attention. You shove your phone back into your purse, then dig into the bin, pulling out stuffed animal after stuffed animal until you reach it. You gasp, then pull out the last special edition dog plushie. Luckily for you, it’s not damaged. You squeal in victory, already excitedly imagining what little Megumi’s reaction is going to be like once you deliver it to him tomorrow. You check the price of it, and wince. Definitely a special item. You’re definitely going to have to dip into your savings account.

It doesn’t matter. The smile on Gumi's face will be worth it. You know that much.

As you’re transferring money from your savings account to your checking account, you hear footsteps approach the aisle you’re standing in. “Shiu, I’m telling ya, it’s supposed to be here, but it isn’t. You sure you called the right store? I swear, this shit-” You look up to see Toji, who comes to a complete stop once he sees you, his eyes widening in shock.

Oh.

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

tags: @abadbitchblogs @koriisworld @queendessi24 @chosoyukisgf @blubearxy @starmapz @atomictrashcreator @levixbby @jjknanamin @roxytheimmortal @eternallyvenus @jup1tersuccubus

sorry if I missed anyone! I went based on the replies in the previous part. if you would like to be tagged for part 4, kindly let me know in the replies! this includes those who have been tagged previously! <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji imagine #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #shiu kong #jjk fluff #toji x you #written by rey <3

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heartseungs-archive · 6 months ago

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dance to this | l.hc

word count: 3.8k | genre: dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers | warnings: none

Donghyuck is an ace. He knows this from the way Taeyong chooses him to be the centre of too many of their performances, and the way too many of his clips have gone viral online.

Donghyuck is annoying. He knows this from the way Doyoung groans in exasperation at every one of his stupid pranks, or when Mark finally loses his patience and shouts across the room at the top of his voice.

But above all of that, Donghyuck is very, very competitive. He doesn’t make it obvious, but the need to win is always simmering beneath the surface, especially for the things that matter. He knows this because you are always there, in his peripheral vision, reminding Donghyuck that he needs to be better than you.

You’re an ace too, even if Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it. The entirety of the Yonsei male student population is likely in love with you and has posters hung up in their room. You’re also annoying, or at least Donghyuck thinks so. He’s sure the rest of the team would disagree, but you’ve got them wrapped around your finger.

“I’m not partnering with someone who can’t even moonwalk properly,” he bites, and you glare back at him.

“Says the one who tore his jeans at rehearsal last year trying to do a split.”

“That was just because the jeans were too tight. I assure you I am fully capable of doing a split.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see it then. See, you’re hesitating-”

“Guys! For the love of God, can the two of you cut it out? It’s like I’m dealing with two toddlers.” Taeyong stands in front of you and Donghyuck, looking frazzled as always. Next to him is Karina, who simply rolls her eyes. Taeyong is no stranger to you and Donghyuck bickering at all hours of the day, but he’s especially tired with the upcoming recital. For that sole reason, the both of you fall silent like sullen children, looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and Taeyong smiles gently at you.

“It’s fine. We just really need this performance to go well, okay? And the both of you doing a duet will garner the most attention.”

Donghyuck sends a pointed look to Karina, who nods in assent. He sighs dramatically, enough for you to cast a sharp glance over. The dance studio is empty save for the four of them, everyone else not yet here. “Okay.”

“Me too. I’m in if Donghyuck cooperates,” you reply, and Taeyong breaks out in the most brilliant smile you’ve ever seen, lighting up his entire face.

“What do you mean if I cooperate? You’re literally the most argumentative person I’ve ever met-”

Taeyong's smile quickly disappears.

However, Karina puts a hand on the small of his back, guiding him out of the room, and the door slamming shut cuts Donghyuck’s spiel short. Just before you can send another jab Donghyuck’s way, however, Mark and Jaehyun come in, while Ningning and Giselle follow quickly after.

It’s time for practice, and you suppose there’s another thing Donghyuck can add to the list. That the both of you are professional enough to keep the childish comments outside of your actual work, and you suppose it’s the only reason Karina hasn’t bought duct tape to forcibly mute the both of you yet.

You’re sitting on the floor, out of breath and with a light sheen of sweat on your face when Donghyuck’s performance starts. Well, it’s a team performance, really, but your eyes are always on him. Compared to the majority of his audience, though, your gaze is always assessing, not admiring. His dynamics, control, sharpness, everything. You sear his image into your brain, just to compare it to your own movements in the mirror later.

Still, there’s a fluidity to Donghyuck that you’ve never been able to replicate perfectly, as much as you try. It’s something so distinct to him, the way he moves across the floor like he’s walking on water. It takes your breath away, but you’ll never tell him that. Just like how he’ll never admit that you’re much better than him at capturing details in dances, and the way you do it makes standing out effortless.

The way your sharp eyes follow Donghyuck as he moves seamlessly across the room makes him weirdly determined to make this the best performance yet. Your presence is a source of pressure, but Donghyuck performs well under pressure anyways.

The sky is quickly turning a midnight blue when Taeyong calls an end to the practice, and everyone’s made a temporary home on the wooden floor of the dance studio. It’s a familiar and comforting sight, seeing some of them on their phones, others lying on the couch, or going through their routines in the corner.

This is what makes up Donghyuck’s world. The four walls of the dance studio. Of course, he supposes his degree in Business is one integral part of his life, but it’s so much less exciting for him. Donghyuck derives an enormous amount of exhilaration from every minute, every second that he’s on the stage, spotlight shining.

He’s one of the last to leave, waving to Taeyong and Karina who give him a cursory greeting in return. They work so much harder than the rest of the team to perfect the formations, and Donghyuck’s sure that they’re both bound to get together at some point. He’s never seen two people more similar.

Other than you and him, maybe.

That’s the exact thought running through his head as he strolls past the exit of the building and turns a corner to the familiar alleyway. You’re leaning under a streetlight, phone in hand and earbuds plugged in. Your features are delicate, and the blue glare of the phone reflects off your face.

Besides being annoyingly talented and competitive, Donghyuck is also in love with you.

There was a time when he genuinely disliked you. Three years ago, when he couldn’t understand why someone new was being accepted into the dance team and was sharing the position of centre with him. If he looked back now, the Donghyuck back then would seem so very immature, nothing more than a boy afraid of being replaced.

It took him a while to realise that he didn’t mind. Enjoyed it, actually. The fact that someone else understood the burden of being under the spotlight, the responsibility of heightening the team’s energy and bringing out the very soul of the performance. You were also immensely capable and pushed Donghyuck to do better. Be better.

Somewhere along the line, dislike changed into grudging admiration, to a tentative friendship, and then into butterflies that fluttered wildly in Donghyuck’s stomach every time you looked at him.

And then one night, all it took was a few too many bottles of soju and the empty dance studio for him to take that very final leap. The both of you had stumbled out of the arts faculty building afterwards, tipsy and giggling. It’s still one of Donghyuck’s favourite memories that he has of you, clinging onto him and refusing to go into your dorm building.

There are very few feelings that surpass the pride that Donghyuck feels when he finishes a routine perfectly. However, one of them is the feeling of your lips on his. The other is the way you look when you wake in the morning, eyes half-lidded and hair messy.

And of course, like some cliche trope, the both of you had not yet told the rest of the team of these… not-so-recent developments. And the longer you went, the easier it was to just pretend there was no real need to tell them. After all, it’s not like you and Donghyuck didn’t argue anymore, if not made obvious by the events of the afternoon. It was just that the bickering was now purely for entertainment, and the both of you acted much sappier to make up for it when no one was watching.

There was a fear that the knowledge would just bewilder most of them, considering the fact that they thought the both of you disliked each other vehemently. Karina also did mention that workplace relationships were strictly not allowed, even though she technically had no right if 1. none of you were on her payroll and 2. she had the biggest crush on Taeyong.

“Hey there,” Donghyuck says, smiling, as he grabs an earbud and places it in his other ear so that he can still hear anything you say clearly.

“Hello. Tired?” You ask as you interlace your fingers with his, but not before casting a quick glance around your surroundings. He shakes his head, and the both of you remain in a comfortable silence until you’re seated comfortably in his car with the heater on at full blast. It’s the middle of winter, and as much as you enjoy the snow, the chill also gets bone-deep. You grab the blanket from its familiar spot in the back of the car, tugging it over your legs.

Donghyuck’s apartment is far enough from campus to not be crowded, but it’s not so isolated that it’s inconvenient. You find yourself spending a lot more time at his apartment these days, so much that you almost have an entire shelf in the closet that stores your clothes.

“You should move in,” he had said one day, after the both of you finished a movie. You definitely wouldn’t mind. After all, living with Donghyuck would be comfortable. He did have a tendency to scatter his clothes all over the room, but he was mostly tidy. He also didn’t mind doing the dishes, and the only real problem you would have would be him singing at the top of his voice at all hours of the day. Even that was more enjoyable than annoying.

“How can I move in if you have the guys over almost every week to game? We’d get found out in no time,” you replied from where you were standing at the fridge, and Donghyuck muttered something like we can just tell them, then, but you were unsure if you had heard him right.

“Did you say something?” You asked, looking at him expectantly. However, Donghyuck didn’t say anything, instead smiling at you, and you tried to hide the disappointment that welled up in you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Donghyuck’s question jolts you out of your recollections, and you shake your head. His hand is interlocked with yours and rests gently on your lap, even though you’ve told him before that he should try to keep both hands on the wheel. However, the roads are deserted this time of night, so you suppose you’ll let him have his way.

The moment you enter his house, you’re quick to collapse on his couch and close your eyes, but you’re immediately dragged off. “Ouch,” you mutter when you land unceremoniously on the carpet, but Donghyuck just grins. “You need to shower, and so do I. Unless you want to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“The both of us know you would be the one sleeping on the couch anyways,” you retort, and Donghyuck just rolls his eyes before he passes you a towel and extra clothes. His sweatpants, and a band tee that's a little too small on him.

You have five sets of your own clothing folded neatly on the second shelf of his closet on the right. Even then, you take his.

An hour later, you’re scrolling on your phone when Donghyuck comes out of the bathroom, towel round his neck. He’s quick to make his way over to the couch, and you move your phone out of the way before he can accidentally knock it over.

“You big baby,” you scold half-heartedly as he sprawls over you, legs tangled with yours. He hums contentedly from where his face is nestled into your shoulder, and you try not to smile.

“Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” He places a soft kiss on your neck, and your fingers fiddle with his hair. It’s getting longer, you realise, since the last time you cut it for him. It had taken a few too many video tutorials, but you were getting better at it. Not that a bad haircut would ruin Donghyuck’s looks anyways. However, when your first attempt had not been so ideal, he had taken it upon himself to be your personal make-up artist. Your relationship with Donghyuck has always been like that. Push-for-pull. Neither of you is the kind of person to back down, but you suppose that’s what makes being with him so exciting.

“Can you make me ramen?” You can feel it when Donghyuck huffs, and he raises his head to look at you. “Is that all I’m good for? I feel like I’m a personal chef instead of your boyfriend.”

You nod, making your expression as serious and earnest as possible. Still, he gives in and gets up, making his way over to the kitchen. You’re quick to follow him, however, grabbing everything he needs. It’s a routine at this point. You’re in charge of ingredients, Donghyuck overseeing cooking.

You grab a vinyl from the tall shelf next to the television, placing it gently into the gramophone. This is one of Donghyuck’s favourite records, and you find yourself humming to it as well as the music filters gently out. You remember his expression of awe when he had opened your present on his birthday.

“Y/N, you didn’t.”

“I did. You can’t possibly have that many records and no gramophone to play them.”

“But this is so expensive.”

“It was just a bunch of extra shifts at the cafe,” had been your nonchalant reply, and Donghyuck’s eyes were soft when he looked up at you, almost glistening. The both of you were seated on the floor, the cake half-eaten on Donghyuck's table that both functioned as a study area and a place to eat.

“Thank you, Y/N. But,” Donghyuck leans over, until he’s barely centimetres from you. His lips are next to your ear, and you can hear your breath hitch.

“I’ll get you an even better present next year. You know me. I can’t lose.” His grin is full of mirth now, and you scoff.

“Even for this?”

“Even for this.”

“It’s still in such good condition,” you mumble to yourself as your fingers brush over the lacquered wood.

“Of course it is. You gave it to me.” You didn’t realize Donghyuck had heard you, but his comment causes your heartbeat to speed up just slightly. The pot is simmering gently on the stove, and Donghyuck turns to look at you. Here, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the studio, is your favourite version of Donghyuck. Not the dance team’s ace, the mini campus celebrity, but your Donghyuck.

Of course, you love the other versions of him too. But this, the Donghyuck standing under his kitchen lights with grey sweatpants and messy hair, is a sight that belongs to you and you only. And god forbid that he's not the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life.

You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Donghyuck isn’t that much taller than you, but in close proximity, he still cranes his neck down to meet your gaze directly. His arms wrap around your waist instinctively, and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his palms through the thin shirt you’re wearing.

“What’s with the sudden affection?” He asks, and you lean into his chest, eyes closed. “Nothing. I just like you. A lot.” The way his chest rumbles slightly tells you that he’s trying to hide a chuckle, but you know Donghyuck enjoys the sweet words, even if he teases you about it.

“Dance with me.” It’s an odd request, considering the both of you are tired out from practice, but you nod, and Donghyuck smiles.

“Wait, but the music. Shouldn’t we change it?”

“No, it’s fine. We can just dance to this.”

Donghyuck pulls you away from the stove and nearer to the couch, where there’s open space. It’s less dancing, and more of a poorly-imitated ballroom waltz. The both of you had only taken one waltz lesson during the team's annual retreat, when Taeyong had thought it a good idea to ‘diversify genres’. However, after Jaehyun had narrowly avoided crashing into a glass display and Chenle caused the team to receive a noise complaint, you suppose Taeyong had scrapped any further ideas of forcing everyone to take mandatory lessons.

It was memorable to you for an entirely different reason, however. It was the first time you began to see Donghyuck in a different light, being forced to partner with him for all three days. The both of you had quickly resolved to outdo everyone else, kickstarting a temporary truce which spiralled to well…this.

Donghyuck’s arms gently circle around your waist as the both of you take light footsteps from one end of the living room to the other. You’ve always found it easy to sync with him, and you’re guessing it just boils down to natural chemistry. That, and the fact that you’re so familiar with the way Donghyuck moves from watching him dance day in and day out.

There was a fascination with university that everyone else had, that you often failed to grasp. It had just seemed like a natural progression, rather than a hard-earned escape to a utopian place where you were an adult free to do what you wanted. The past three years had been some of the best in your life, mainly owing to the fact that you had a major you enjoyed and a dance team that simultaneously functioned as your closest group of friends.

You realise that Donghyuck has been present for its entirety. He had been there when you were accepted to the dance team, and then made centre alongside him a year later. He had been there when you did your first showcase and solo act, running down from the stage breathless afterwards. When you got your first injury, he was the one who told Taeyong for you, and convinced him that you could still fill the role with enough rest. Donghyuck was the one who found you crying in the studio when you got a failing grade on one of your exams, and who sat with you silently until your eyes were no longer red.

There’s only one year until you graduate, but Donghyuck’s presence in your life is as constant as the air you need to breathe.

It was easy to say farewell to your friends from high school, with an easy promise to maintain contact. But it’s so very different with Donghyuck, who fills up every crevice of your life effortlessly with his little habits.

You had wondered if you had fallen too fast for Donghyuck. After all, the change from rivals to friends to romantic feelings had been alarming, because you could rarely think straight when it came to him. Yet, looking at him now, you’re convinced that you want to spend as much time with Donghyuck as possible, before the worries of adulthood start creeping in.

Call it young ambition, but something about Donghyuck just makes you want to take chances. To let loose and live a little easier. Maybe it’s because he’s able to make you happy with the simplest things, and he’s so easy to love. Which is why you suppose you can finally make a decision, even though your heart has probably been silently waiting to say yes.

“If I move in, I want counter space. And also half of the closet space. And you have to promise to not scatter your clothes around our room,” you say, so abruptly that Donghyuck stops moving entirely, and you have to pause to prevent yourself from tripping over his feet. He bends down, until he’s eye level with you. His eyes are hopeful, questioning, as if he’s not entirely believing of what you’re implying.

“You’re not kidding, right?” It’s so easy for a smile to make its way onto your face, as you shake your head and Donghyuck’s grip on your waist gets a little bit tighter.

“You’ll get all the counter space you want. I’ll even let you bring your stupid potted plants.” Your nose scrunches at his remark, and Donghyuck has to stop himself from cooing at your expression.

“For the record, I think my potted plants are adorable. And once I bring them here, they’ll be yours too. So don’t speak of our potted plants that way.”

Ours. Donghyuck thinks he likes the sound of that.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

A week later, you’re standing outside the dance studio with Donghyuck, when you grab his hand. He looks down sharply at you, mouthing a ‘what?’, and then angling his chin urgently back in the direction of the studio. However, you just flash a grin at him. “Open the door, Donghyuck. We’re already late.” He narrows his eyes, but the playful grin tugging on his mouth shows that he already understands what you’re aiming at.

When the both of you walk in, there’s a mixed range of reactions. There’s Jisung and Shotaro, whose mouths are wide open. Doyoung and Mark’s eyebrows are raised, but they don’t show any other expression. Ningning, Renjun and Chenle are in a corner, knowing smiles on their faces. Taeyong and Karina just look like they’ve always known, and are honestly more miffed at the lack of punctuality from the both of you.

“I think Karina’s going to kill us for breaking her no relationships rule,” Donghyuck mutters worriedly in your ear.

“If you forget, I’m her favourite child. I think she’s more likely to murder you for getting with me,” you respond sweetly, and Donghyuck simply stares, speechless, as you let go and walk over to where Giselle and Winter are warming up. He scoffs, shaking his head, and walks over to Jaemin and Jeno, who are already ready to tease him for being a lovesick fool.

The four walls of the dance studio make up so much of Donghyuck’s life, but so do you.

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