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skiiyoomin · 4 months ago

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Can you make Kenma,Oikawa, Hinata, Sugawara, Nishinoya, Akaashi with a sub! Girlfriend that has a personality that remembers a Golden Retriever?? (Can it be NSFW?)

ღHq boys with a sub!golden retriever gf

ʚft: Kenma, Oikawa, Hinata, Suga, Nishinoya, Akaashi

ʚCont: SMUT CONTENT, fem!reader, fingering, slight corruption kink, mirror sex, use of good girl, riding, oral sex

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a/n i think i outdid myself with this one 😁

Kenma

There is a clear difference between your personalities. He´s passive and calm whereas you´re always a bundle of energy. Many joke you have all the energy Kenma doesn't. And that fact proves right in moments like these.

He was slumped on the couch when you skipped into the living room. Your eyes darted to his hands holding the controller. His long fingers were moving across the buttons with a speed only a chronic video game player had. A flash of thoughts that were anything but holy crossed your mind. They were pushed back almost immediately.

They were hard to ignore now that those same fingers were pumping up into your dripping cunt. Your hips moved on their own, rolling instinctively to find the same spot that had your head throwing back with whiny moans. The clutch your fisted hands had on his shirt tightened when you bounced on his fingers, riding them like you would with his cock. "ken mmgh fuck m´ tired" He wasn��t sure if his actions were out of sympathy or torture, but his free hand gripped your hip to stop their movement. His other hand, drenched in your juices, moved upwards at a fast pace, curling inwards to hit the plushness of your g-spot. "tired? already? well, I suppose I´ll help" Though he didn´t seem to mind with how hard he was in that moment, his erection begging to be freed from its restraints. The fast pace of his fingers brought your orgasm closer than you thought. Your mind blanked, body shaking as your walls clamped down on his fingers, imprisoning them inside your warmth.

His lips on your face landed you back from cloud 9. "such a good girl, wanna keep doing a good job for me and make me feel good?" He murmurs against your skin, to which you nod without hesitation.

Oikawa

Oikawa absolutely adoresss you. You´re his little puppy, his sweet innocent baby girl. He dies and revives every single time your doe eyes stare up at him with those bright irises. They shoot straight to his heart, tightening in his chest to the point where his breath is lost in the air. He doesn´t know what he´d do without his pretty girl. He could spend countless hours naming all the things he loves about you. But he was certain that what he loves most, is your willingness to please him. Like a puppy does with its owner.

Deep down, it isn´t just for the simple innocent reasons one may imagine. Your willingness to please applies to the bedroom too. And there was nothing that turns him on more than to have you on all fours, ramming his cock into your abused hole for hours on end.

Tears were falling down your pretty eyes, your back setting into a mean arch the longer you stayed in that position. Even then, your breathy shaky voice asked "m´ i making you feel good?" Call it a possible corruption kink, but seeing your head lifting to meet his gaze from the back with those teary doe eyes, your lips pouty as you concern yourself more over his pleasure than your own, god that just makes his dick harder than ever.

If anything, it keeps his cock pounding into you relentlessly, forcing orgasm after orgasm from you, all just to see you with that same look in your eyes. Yeah, he definitely has a corruption kink.

Hinata

You´re both bundles of sunshine. Your relationship is as radiant as the sun, a constant source of joy in each others lives. You´re both the same golden retriever energy and anyone can see that from a 20 mile radius. In terms of dominance, well, it´s hard to say. Or at least, that´s how it is for anyone outside the relationship. However between you two? It´s pretty clear.

The sight in front of you is sinful really. No porno you had ever watched was as erotic as this. Hinata is sitting on the edge of the bed with you sitting snuggly on his lap, your back pressed against his toned chest. You´re convinced you´d have bruises on your hips the next morning from how tight he was gripping them. Though your focus in that moment is on the dirty view from the mirror of your tight hole getting stretched open by his thick cock. While Hinata is setting the pace and keeping you balanced, you´re tasked to hold your legs wide open with your hands under your knees, giving you the perfect view of his cock connecting with your cunt.

As much as you wanted to throw your head back on his shoulder from the painful pleasure, you couldn´t look away from the sight. The way your puffy lips parted in an accomodating motion for his dick to pound up into you relentlessly is an addicting sight you can´t get enough of. The fast pace is dizzying along with the view of his fluids mixing with yours and coating his cock like a second skin. His pace sped up even more, though you hadn´t thought that was possible, when your impending orgasm resulted in the clenching of your gummy walls. "hold on f´me sweet girl, can you do that?" He asks sweetly into your ear despite the vicious pace of his tip kissing your cervix. "mhmm" Is all you can manage to say. "good girl"

Sugawara

Suga is often seen as the sweet calm boyfriend whereas you´re the energetic girlfriend whose always bouncing around with energy. It´s a balance that makes the relationship work very well. But what nobody expects is the 180 Suga does in bed.

A foot is balanced on his shoulder, his hands wrapped around the plushness of the back of your thighs. Suga loves this more than anything else. When your body goes limp from the pleasure, reducing all that energetic behaviour that you had before to nothing. You never resist him, no, instead you encourage him to keep going. To keep stretching your body into positions you didn´t think were possible. To keep your walls continuously stroking his cock, pulling countless orgasms out of you until you had nothing left to give. And even then, you keep your legs spread wide open like the good little thing that you are.

He groans into your ear "fuck. You like that? like how good my cock is making you feel?" He growls into your ear. One hand moves to rub your swollen clit, intensifying the pleasure. The result of your moans urged his ruthless pace to quicken. He chuckles breathlessly. "can´t even speak. am I fucking my baby dumb? Is that it?" The mocking tone of his voice was far more arousing than you thought and he knew it. How could he not when your walls were clenching so tightly around his aching member?

"wanna loosen up for me baby girl? I can´t make you cum if you´re squeezin so tight" He smirks "Yeaah that´s it, good fucking girl" He says in that low raspy voice you love so much. You´re in for a looong night.

Nishinoya

You´re both equally energetic. His energy rubs off on you and yours rubs off on him. You two together is utter chaos in the best way possible. Though when it comes to dominance, Noya is always sure to prove he´s the dominant one. Not like you mind anyway.

It´s movie night and of course, one thing leads to another. Now you´re on Noyas lap with his cock fucking up into you. If this isn´t heaven, Noya wasn´t sure what is. You´re always so eager to take him, to be fucked into submission. He groans lowly when you squeeze particularly hard. His eyes trail from your pussy to the swell of your breasts that bounce every time he thrusts up into you, his grip on your hips controlling the pace. The sight is so enticing, so breath taking that he can´t resist getting a taste. His mouth latches onto oneperky nipple while his fingers play with the other, giving them equal attention.

"aaah ngh noya" You moan, the sounds like music to his ears. His mouth latches off your breasts with a pop. "hmm? is my baby girl feeling good?" You whine, trying to speed up the pace. His gaze darkens with a primal lust. His feet plant on the floor and with a sudden boost of energy, he fucks your hole with a roughness he had never used before. He has no time to worry if he´s being too rough, becuase you´re instantly arching your back into a mean curve and throwing your head back. It´s overwhelming, the intense pleasure, the throbbing of your cunt the more he keeps his cock inside you.

A loud smack resonantes across the room, a gasp following it afterwards. The sting from his slap on your ass strangely adds to the pleasure, making your cunt throb more. He seems to sense this as well because he does it again and again. By the end of that night, the skin of your ass was a painful tomato red. Though you can´t stay mad at him when he fucks you so good.

Akaashi

Akaashi seems to attract the most energetic people ever. First it was Bokuto, now it´s you. He doesn´t complain one bit though. He adores you so much and makes you feel so loved too. He especially loves showing his love for you through intimate acts. It´s too tempting for him after all. When you´re always so greedy to please him and make him happy. Or especially when you´re so submissive for him. You trust him blindly and know he takes good care of you and nothing can ever make him more turned on than that.

Like now, he´s laying on his stomach on the bed. The thickness of your thighs are wrapped around his head, pulling him closer to your aching core. This was the thing he loves most. Worshipping your body over and over like you´re a goddess and he´s your most faithful worshipper. A shiver crawls down your spine when his warm breath tickles your bare skin, coming in contact with your heat. You gasp when his warm tongue slips out and licks along your slit until it hooks on your clit. Akaashi is a patient man, but even his own patience wears thin under the temptation of ravishing you whole.

He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking the bundle gently while slipping a finger inside. One finger turns into two, then three. Soon enough his fingers are thrusting into you while he continues to busy his mouth with your clit. It´s not long before your body shakes from the force of a mind blowing orgasm.

He doesn´t wait a single second. Your legs are forced to spread open, giving him space to slip his tongue into your sensitive hole. You whine and squirm from the overstimulation. "aaah kashi" Said man lifts his head up, your juices smeared all over his chin and lips. They press wet kisses to your inner thighs while looking up at your flushed face. "you know the safe word, don´t you darling?" You nod meekly under his intense gaze. He smirks "good" Is all he says before going back to fucking your throbbing hole like a starved man having his last meal on earth.

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yuwuta · 1 year ago

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AFTERGLOW. — JJK BOYS + JEALOUSY

❝tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when i've lost my mind

featuring. gojo, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu

content. a character study in jealousy, no content warnings, no smut in this version, fem reader

word count. 2.8k

SATORU GOJO You’re attempting to finish getting ready for the evening and Satoru has taken his favorite activity: filing through every crevice of your room like he’d been hired as a private investigator. Even though he knows that you know that he’s nothing more than a nosy idiot, Satoru claims that it’s an important and intimate routine that he should know the ins and outs of your living space just as well as you know his—“You know exactly where I keep my boxers, and I don’t even think I’ve seen the inside of your closet—oh, hey, this is cute,” he grins, sticking out his impossibly long arm to shake a thin, lacy bodysuit on a hanger, “How come you’ve never shown me this, huh? Maybe you should wear this instead, it seems easier to take—ouch.”

He groans at the impact of your hairbrush against his shoulder, then swiftly proceeds to pout and whine about how mean you are to him when you return to ignoring him in favor of applying the final touches to your makeup. Your closet seems to be of little interest to him after that, as Satoru crosses the room to hover around you at your vanity instead. He leans in too closely, as if watching you apply bronzer was a novel sight to him. You flip your brush quickly, barely tapping at his nose and laughing at his scrunched reaction.

“Your reflexes aren’t so sharp today,” you tease. You’re prepared for a witty response, and when you glance, there’s a familiar mischief shimmering in your boyfriend’s eyes; but, then his gaze ventures slightly past you, and all signs of playfulness drain from his face. Instead of getting revenge, or annoying you further, Satoru reaches over your body and into a shallow jewelry dish to pick up the bracelet he’d spotted. It’s a dainty little thing, thin gold with a small heart in the middle glittering with shiny stones, that he threads along his fingers with scrutiny before standing up straight to dangle it in front his face for further inspection, “This is new to me.”

Perhaps you’d spoken too soon, because only Satoru would spot that one piece of jewelry amongst the others swimming the tray. His eyes flutter between the bracelet and you, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and the accusation he won’t say outloud—did you buy yourself heart-shaped jewelry, or is there something else going on here?

You sigh and keep your expression and voice neutral, your attention seemingly still focused on the finishing touches of your makeup, “It’s new to you because I haven’t worn it in years,” you tell him, “My ex gave it to me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you occupy yourself with your mascara, before Satoru speaks, “That makes sense, it doesn’t look all that promising. What is it—barely gold plated?” he taunts, sweeping away his air of concern with one of mockery, standing up straight to twirl the bracelet around his index finger, “Figures your ex boy toy had no taste for the finer things in life. You’re worth more than this, my darling.”

You shake your head with light laughter, patting in the remnants of your setting spray before standing. Satoru continues on, rambling about the poor construction of your commercially produced bracelet—holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’ll poison him if he exposes it to too much of his skin, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for the lapel of his blazer to pull him down for a kiss. He has no words of objection to this, pulling you in by the waist for another and another and another, before you finally pull away, “Come, let’s go. I don’t feel like getting lectured by Utahime for your tardiness again.”

You’re too preoccupied for the rest of the evening to notice the item missing from your jewelry dish. What you do notice, two afternoons later, shortly after Satoru has left to pick up Nanami from the airport, is a blue velvet box with your name written in pretty, gold cursive along the top—and inside, a gold tennis bracelet, glittering with diamonds, with a necklace to match. You have no doubt they’re legitimate, if not for the way the sparkle, then by the text that rings through on your phone after you question Satoru:

from: satoruwu 🫧🩵 — only the best for my baby <33

TOGE INUMAKI

Toge knows that the price of coffee has gotten way out of hand, but what bothers him more is the decreasing pace of said coffee getting made and the increase of crazy, caffeine addicted people who feel the need to be loud around him while he’s waiting for his drinks. You, however, seem to take pleasure in his suffering, as you always thank him and coo, saying he looks cute despite his grumbly demeanor, “You always look like you fought a war for two cups of coffee, Toge.”

He rolls his eyes as he steps into your apartment, not minding the sound of your giggling behind him. He sets the drinks on your island, and pulls out a stool to sit on. You round the marble, reaching him just as he’s pulled down his mask for a thank you kiss to his cheek. He wants to make you suffer for longer, but when you lean against him, he can’t help but to return the hug and kiss your forehead—you’re welcome, always.

Still, he pokes at your head, waits until you dig your head out of his shoulder with curious eyes, before he points to the Keurig sitting in the corner of one the wall-mounted counters, and moves his hands to sign, “Why keep that if you spend all my money on coffee?”

“Rude. I offer to pay all the time,” you chide, poking at his collar bone and standing straight. You make your way back to the opposite side of the counter, and reach to a drawer to fetch a straw, before shrugging, “My ex left it here when we broke up. I keep it for the aesthetic—I’m not even sure if it works.”

A myriad of thoughts runs through Toge’s mind—most importantly: had your ex left other things here, and how quickly could he get rid of them?

“Besides,” you break his murderous train of thought, “None of the pods make good espresso. Couldn’t even make my hot girl latte if it worked.”

“Your ‘hot girl latte’ is iced,” Toge signs.

Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would earn him a flick to the forehead, but you can tell that behind the sarcasm, Toge is actually upset. So, in lieu of teasing him, you walk back over to him; settling yourself behind his stool to give him a back hug. You lean your cheek against his shoulder and press a small kiss there, “You’re cute.”

Toge huffs, shaking his shoulders for dramatic effect. You laugh, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute and you have nothing to worry about. It’s an old coffee machine.”

He hums, taking another sip of his coffee before turning, barely bumping the top of your forehead, so you can see his raised eyebrow. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, “You’re cute, and you have nothing to worry about, and I love you.”

He finally smiles again, content, and grants you another kiss to your forehead. With his mood back to normal, the two of you finish your coffee and carry on with your scheduled study session as normal (normal being Toge leaving you alone for all of twenty-seven minutes, before he starts taking videos of you with various outrages Snapchat filters on).

However, the following day when you return from your classes, there’s four new items on your kitchen counter: a silver espresso machine, a reusable Starbucks cup (already filled with your usual drink), a neatly folded apron decorated with cartoon Shiba Inus, and a small card with Toge’s bubbly handwriting on it: “Don’t worry, I’ll still pay for you $6 pink drinks, but if you wanted to thank me by making coffee in just the apron, then I wouldn’t complain ;)”

KENTO NANAMI Kento is a rational man; he favors using logic to carry out decisive actions, rather than letting his emotions get the best of him. So, the rational part of him knows that it’s not a big deal that the lunch bag and bento-style tupperware you bring to work was a gift from your ex-girlfriend; but there’s a small, ugly, green part of him overrun with jealousy and another bitter-tasting feeling he can’t quite name.

Because it’s not that important. It makes sense that you keep using them—the lunch bag is nice, leather, sleek, and insulated, and the tupperware is sturdy and functional. The whole system is sustainable, practical. It was a good present, one that objectively serves a good purpose whether or not it was given by an ex or not.

Maybe that’s what he hates so much. That this person still has room in your life, even though you haven’t spoken to them since you’ve met him. Kento doesn’t like that reminder—that there are people out there who might be a good fit for you, a better one than him. Those ugly feelings aside, there’s a sour taste in his mouth when he packs your lunch now; knowing that the food he cooked for the two of you—the meal you’re both going to indulge in—sits in a container gifted to you by an ex-lover.

Irrational to the point of being unfocused, he doesn’t realize how close the glass is to the edge of the counter, and when he turns to scoop more rice, he accidentally knocks it over with his elbow. It breaks into tiny pieces on the ground, the small portion of rice and chicken spilling onto the ground. The sound draws you out of your bedroom, mascara wand in hand and robe still on to call for him, “Kento? Everything okay?”

“I… it was an accident,” he explains, setting the spoon down in favor of reaching for a napkin, dropping to his knee with a light sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”

Your laughter surprises him, prompts him to look up at you with broken glass shards pooled in his palm, “You don’t have to worry so much! It happens, we have a million more.”

There’s something about the way you don’t seem to acknowledge it being special to you in any way—Kento’s not even sure if you recognize what broke—that reassures him. Because it really was an accident, but Kento doesn’t mind that he managed to break this particular plate.

When he shoos you back to getting dressed, he finishes picking up the broken glass shards. There’s a certain lightness to his actions now, petty as it may be, he’s happy. Spends extra time writing a note for you to see when you unpack your food before he retires to the bathroom to start getting ready himself.

Maybe he could do something about that lunchbox next. You don’t seem to mind.

YUUTA OKKOTSU Thursdays are Yuuta’s favorite day of the week because on Thursdays, you two meet up at your spot, which is really just a set of twin benches in the west quad, but it’s your place and Yuuta loves it. You will have reserved a study room in your favorite library, and Yuuta will buy snacks for your study session before you both head to the library in an attempt to finish up your work for the week in order to keep your Friday evenings free.

Yuuta usually gets to the bench before you, a combination of the engineering building being a little bit closer, and his legs being a lot longer. He doesn’t mind waiting for you, as it’s usually his first time seeing you in two days (your Tuesdays are too packed for anything other than a shared coffee break between lectures, and Wednesdays are his hell days), and spotting you through the crowd of dissipating students always brings a smile to his face.

You look cute today, an oversized sweater enveloping your frame that Yuuta can imagine you cozying into and nearly dozing off in your dreaded microbiology lecture. He laughs to himself at the mental image, just as you stop in front of him to ponder, “Something funny?”

Yuuta shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a proper greeting. “Nothing,” he reassures you, reaching around to pull your backpack off of your shoulders, and slings it over one of his, “You look cute. Did you mean to buy a sweater big enough to double as a blanket?”

“The oversized look is in,” you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, letting Yuuta take your hand in his despite his teasing, “I don’t even think I bought this, honestly. It might be Todo’s? Or Toge’s—it might even be Maki’s at this point.”

Yuuta freezes. He feels the world stop and a million different emotions surge through him at once, but the most prevalent of them all is something ugly and green. He could deal with Toge, though he doubts he’s the culprit. While you two shared a penchant for oversized clothing, Toge was more often than not the thief, rather than the lender, and he’s pretty good at keeping his collection of stolen goods under lock and key. Maki was out of the question, too, because you shared a class with Nobara earlier today, and there’s no way you’d have made it out of there wearing her girlfriend’s sweater.

So it probably was Todo’s. And Yuuta had said you looked cute. Though he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, his moment of self-pity is waning, and overcast by something steely, something too-hot bubbling in his chest. The question of why you have it goes over his head—he’s not concerned with that, nor will he fault you for it—the matter at hand is that you’re wearing it. And, sure, Yuuta thought you looked good in it before, but he could name sixteen other things you’d look better in at this very moment.

You’ve gone on to ramble about something that happened earlier, but Yuuta’s not listening. He drops your hand first, then both of your backpacks on the bench behind him, before tapping at your wrists. You don’t seem to understand him, cocking your head to the side with a pensive expression, but Yuuta only taps at your wrists again with a simple command, “Up.”

It doesn’t seem like you understand, but you follow anyway, and Yuuta is pulling the sweater up and off of your body before you can question him. He tosses it onto the bench with little care, then removes his white jacket and places it atop your backpacks. “What are—” you don’t have time to finish before he’s pulled his own hoodie off his body, and slid it over your head.

Yuuta smooths out the fabric under his palms with a satisfied grin on his face. Much better.

“Aw, Yuuta!” you bring a hand to tug at the strings of the hood, a wicked smile replacing your dazed blinking, “I didn’t know you were so possessive.”

You tease him until he’s red up to his ears, embarrassed and borderline bashful, a complete 180 from the looming jealousy that took over him moments before as he shimmies on his jacket again and picks up your back backs. He huffs, as you tease him, circling an arm around his as you begin to walk to the student center. He doesn’t know if he agrees with your declarations of him being a possessive boyfriend, but he does know that he’s your boyfriend, and your boyfriend only.

“So, you think I look cute, still?” you question, picking up a pack of gummy worms. Yuuta lets out a breath of laughter, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Even cuter than before.”

(Two days later, Todo can be found screaming wildly to Itadori when he comes across a familiar hoodie strewn across a random bench on campus—who considers visiting the Student Health Clinic to make sure an eardrum wasn’t ruptured—because, “Bro, what the hell? I swear I fucking lost this thing!”)

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rynbutt · 8 months ago

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pierced. pt. 3 | spencer reid.

Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4

cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy

a/n: kicking my feet fr

You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.

Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy.

You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).

You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.

You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup.

You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.

Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing.

You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.

“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”

“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”

“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.

“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”

Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.

“Made a new friend?” You asked.

Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”

You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”

His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.

You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”

“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.

The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.

“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by.

“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”

“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.

Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date.

Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.

Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.

“You okay?” You questioned gently.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”

You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.

“Work?” You asked softly.

“Yeah… But I-”

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”

Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”

Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”

“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”

“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.

It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily.

“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.

“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.

“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.

“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.

“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness.

Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.

“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly.

Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”

Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully.

Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”

Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-

“Is this seat taken?”

Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.

“Y/N? What are you-”

“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”

You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.

He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.

“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”

You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.

“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Uh, well,” he trailed off.

“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.

“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”

“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.

He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”

“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”

“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”

“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”

Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”

“Yeah… only if you want to?”

“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.

a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #dr reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n

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lovelookspretty · 10 days ago

Text

erase me

exboyfriend!rafe cameron x exgirlfriend!reader

— “ and i wonder who will erase me? ”

content: unhealthy relationship post-breakup, hookups, sexual themes, drinking, toxic cycles, SMALL ONE-SHOT idc

authors note: “erase me” by lizzy mcalpine has been my hyper fixation song lately n i was just watching the music video when i thought to myself huh. this would so fit with rafes character !

his lips are soft against your skin, pulling slowly away just to dive in again. he’s savoring every noise, every taste, every sight, every part of you.

his back is bare, freckles scattered across the ivory that you’ve thought about tracing once or twice before, only if you ever stuck around long enough.

his fingers curl inside you, erupting a reaction that he chases after. you’re like a drug to him. his tongue grinds—swirling, flicking, teasing. he’s giving his all to you. to please you. to make you feel like you never have before.

but there’s just something off.

you lower your chin to look at him through heavy lids. his forehead is licked with sweat, cheeks soft red but his lips swollen from working on you. the realisation comes faster than you do.

for the past eighteen minutes you have not had a present bone in your body. he started eighteen minutes ago, and not once have you released yet, or felt like you wanted to.

it’s almost embarrassing, needless to say more for him and less for you, but you can still feel second-hand. your mind can wander but it doesn’t stray from the fact that he can’t give you what you need. but you know who can.

just as you look closer, he’s pulling himself off of you to flip you onto your stomach so he can fuck you. it’s raw, and he slips his cock inside of you easily—it’s just better than whatever the hell he was doing before.

his hips snap brutally against your own, his chest pressed against your back as he curves his hand around your throat, applying pressure. there.

that’s when you feel it. not him, but that familiar sense. a warmth you know all too well. you’ve been tossed, turned, flipped, thrown, all for the pleasure of a man. here, it’s no different.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, and all you can think about is him again. his grunts in your ear, encouraging you to keep holding yourself up so he can murmur how pathetic you are so that the praises hit better. you’d rather feel the tip of his cock finding your g-spot over and over again until you string out a moan, barely comprehensible but you know that he can make out his own name from your lips.

rafe.

you wanna say it again—rafe. but it’s fine. right here is fine. this guy’s fucking you in his bed. he’s surely some eye candy, and he’s been gentle with you all night. the sex can be rough though, and maybe that’s what you need.

still, something stirs in you, and you know that it’s not what you want.

you wake up to the pale yellow light filtering through unfamiliar blinds. the room is silent, save for the soft breathing of the guy beside you. he’s sprawled out, dead asleep, dark hair ruffled, face turned away. you don’t even remember his name—just that he’s neighbors with your friend who hosted the party last night.

your head throbs, a steady, unforgiving ache that pulses behind your eyes, and the sour taste of rum still lingers on your tongue. you shift slightly, feeling the rough fabric of his sheets against your bare skin, and suddenly, an emptiness sinks in, heavy and suffocating. you’re barely dressed, just his oversized t-shirt clinging to you like a ghost of whatever last night was supposed to mean.

you stare blankly ahead, your head propped on a pillow, but your body turns away from him, toward the edge of the bed. your arm dangles off the side, fingertips brushing the floor. it’s ironic, how last night’s distraction becomes this morning’s reminder of how desperate you are to erase him—rafe.

you stay like that for a moment, unmoving, letting the sting of it seep in. the room smells like cologne and stale alcohol. he’s nice enough, you think vaguely. kind eyes, a smile that had been warm just last night.

but now, it’s empty. meaningless.

you push yourself up slowly, carefully, so you don’t wake him. your fingers shake a little as you pull on your clothes from the night before, you don’t bother with anything else. you move quietly as you gather your shoes and slip them on, not daring to glance back.

when you step out into the early morning air, the street is quiet, the world still practically waking up. rafe’s name pounds in your head with each step you take.

your hand shakes as you pull your phone from your pocket, staring at his name in your contact list. you shouldn’t call him. you know that. but the ache, the gnawing desperation to hear something from him, is too much to resist. your thumb hovers for a second too long, then you press the call button before you can think better of it.

it rings. once. twice. you almost hope he doesn’t pick up, that you can hang up and convince yourself you were just being stupid. but then the line clicks, and his voice cuts through, sharp and unforgiving.

“what?” his voice is rough, low, the way it gets when he’s been up all night. you can picture him now, jaw tight, blue eyes dark and narrowed. your pulse quickens.

you swallow, suddenly dry-mouthed. “rafe,” you mumble. “hey.”

“are you serious right now?” he snaps, and you can hear the rustle of sheets, like he’s sitting up. “don’t call me, y/n. i don’t want to hear your voice.”

the words sting, but they don’t stop you. they never do. you almost smile, that twisted, sick part of you that craves this, the heat of his anger, the way it matches the storm in your chest.

“why not?” your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, a little rasp from sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol. “you sound wide awake for someone who doesn’t wanna talk.”

there’s a pause, just long enough for you to think he might hang up, but then his voice comes back, clearer, like he’s got the mic pressed right against his mouth. “you’re unbelievable—‘hear me? un-believable. you leave that party with some random guy and then you call me? is this some kind of game to you?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted. it was exactly like that. your shame burns hotter under rafe’s scalding words.

“no? then what is it, hmph? because lately, all you’ve done is show me just how fast you can try to replace me,” he spits, voice laced with something that sounds dangerously close to hurt.

your grip on the phone tightens, nails digging into your palm. “it’s not like you’re innocent,” you say, the words barely a whisper. it’s pathetic, you know it is, but it’s all you have.

“don’t turn this around on me,” he snaps. “yeah, i know what you’re trying to do, running off with random guys like it’s supposed to mean something. you think i don’t hear about it? but you call me? after all of this, you still call me?”

his voice cracks at the end, barely perceptible, and that tiny break twists something in your chest. you press your lips together, trying not to let him hear the way your breath shakes despite your smile.

“rafe—”

“no,” he interrupts, hard, a finality to it that hits you like a slap. “don’t call me again.”

the line goes dead, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring at the phone in your hand. you feel some strange, hollow satisfaction just from hearing his voice, hearing him angry, hearing him give a fuck, even if it’s in the worst way.

a bitter smile tugs at your lips, but it fades just as fast, leaving a dull ache in its place. your teeth graze your bottom lip, the embarrassment settling in, thick and heavy. what were you even hoping to get out of that?

you shove your phone back into your pocket, the regret sinking in as you start to walk.

the music pulses through the room. you dance, eyes closed, while two faces are close, dancing around you, their hands lightly grazing your hips, steadying you as you sway. you can feel the warmth of their laughter and the faint pull of their fingers, but your mind is elsewhere. you’re not thinking about them. you’re not even thinking about yourself. you’re thinking about him.

rafe stands across the room, one hand gripping a cup. his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed as he watches you from a distance.

he notices everything. the way your hair tumbles over your shoulders, the curve of your lips when you laugh at something someone whispers in your ear, the way your body responds, a subtle roll of your hips, when the beat drops. it’s infuriating.

you’re so far away, yet every move you make drags him closer to the edge. he hates it. hates that you’re pretending not to see him. hates that you’re acting like this—so carefree, so untethered, so far from the girl he remembers.

someone bumps into you, hard enough that you stumble slightly. rafe’s grip on his drink tightens, the glass groaning under the strain of his fingers. but then he sees it—how you turn and smile, an easy, genuine smile, and apologize to the stranger as if the fault was yours.

not even a hint of annoyance, not a trace of the sharpness he knows you have when provoked.

he watches, feeling the burn of it—how can you be so good, so kind, yet crave the venom he’s always fed you?

do they know you called him this morning just to hear him snap at you, that you needed the sound of him furious just to feel close? he doesn’t think so, but he’s in awe, and it makes him hate you, hate himself.

how do you still do this to him?

the trance is broken when sofia appears, slipping from the hallway with a playful smile. she says something—something about the line for the bathroom being longer than ever, that everyone’s probably considering the ocean instead.

he smiles, nodding as he pulls her in, an arm draped around her shoulders. the shift in his attention is deliberate, as if trying to convince himself he doesn’t care. as if touching someone else, being close to someone else, could drown out the low hum of you in his veins.

and that’s when you open your eyes, half-lidded and hazy, the world coming into focus with a few blinks. you glance around, a soft smile still curving your lips, until your gaze lands on them.

there’s no hiding the small, faint frown that pulls at your mouth. it’s barely there, but still is. you watch rafe let her take his drink, her fingers brushing his as she sips. your eyes flick down, betraying you for a moment as you take in their closeness, and then, just like that, you look away.

there’s a sting behind your eyes, but it’s not strong enough to stop you. you press your lips into a thin line, exhaling sharply as you turn back to the crowd. you don’t pause before reaching for the hand of a guy nearby, someone whose name you won’t remember tomorrow. again.

you lace your fingers through his and pull him with you, stepping through the bodies and toward the stairs. he watches, his mouth set in a thin line, but he doesn’t move. he just watches you walk away.

it all twists something inside you, bitter and raw, but you keep walking. maybe you and rafe are both pretending it’s over, trying to find where you begin without each other. at least you know now who’s painting over the last parts of you.

erasing you.

a/n: wanted to just leave it here and kind of quickly depict toxic cycles & the two POVs 😭 bc yea they are so NOT over each other

tags: @iiszaa @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0

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b0r3dtod3ath · 7 months ago

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Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words.

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is.

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion.

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance.

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display. The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to.

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down.

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night.

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged.

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around - a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

#writers on tumblr #challengers imagine #challengers x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you

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delulustateofmind · 2 months ago

Text

Stray

Yan!Gojo x Reader

WC: 5.4K (My longest fic!)

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con Kiss (singular one), Mentions of stalking, obsession, your typical yandere behaviors. Manipulation.

Based off of this blurb: HERE

*******

Looking back, this was probably the biggest mistake of your life. Picking up a stray. Your mother’s voice echoed in your mind: “Don’t feed them, or they’ll keep crawling back.” She wasn’t just talking about animals-her words applied to monsters too, though you hadn’t realized that yet.

It was a few months ago, on an unusually quiet Saturday, when you’d decided to do your laundry in the community room of your apartment complex. The air was thick with the faint scent of various detergents and the rhythmic thrum of the machines. The room was dimly lit, the sunlight from outside filtering in through small windows, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. You had expected to be alone, but instead there he was- a stranger standing in the middle of the room, looking every bit as out of place as a lost puppy.

Or maybe more like a misplaced god.

Tall, lean, and dressed in casual clothes that seemed haphazardly thrown together, he held a laundry basket so full it looked like it might burst at any moment. You hesitated as his attention turned toward you, the black lenses of his tinted glasses hiding his eyes, but not the way his lips quirked into an awkward, lopsided smile.

“Uh sorry- am I blocking the open machines?” His voice was soft, almost too smooth for someone who looked so out of sorts. He shifted his weight, holding the basket like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “Here, it’s all yours.”

You blinked, glancing from his awkward stance to the machines, then back to him. “Don’t you need to use them?” you asked, your voice quiet, but curious, as your gaze dropped to the absurdly full basket he was clutching, where you caught sight of something unexpectedly cute- soft pink boxers peeking out from the pile, printed with tiny dango. Adorable.

The man let out a breath chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced away, his sheepish expression almost too genuine. “I’ll uh…I’ll just do it later,” he said, his voice lighter now, as if he was trying to downplay his obvious hesitation.

Your eyes drifted from his face to the empty table in front of him, noticing there was no detergent in sight.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Your tone coming out soft but teasing, knowing full well this beautiful man had no idea what he was doing.

He froze, just for a second. The easygoing charm faltered, replaced by something more real. A sigh escaped his lips, almost resigned, and the barest hint of pink dusted his cheeks. His head tilted slightly away from you, as if hidinging his embarrassment, before he mumbled, “yeah.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Cute.

So, you walked him through the steps, showing him how to use the last two remaining machines. You could’ve taken them for yourself, but instead, you let him have them. Maybe showing this man kindness was a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have helped him. Because who knew a single act of generosity would lead to this—an almost instinctual bond forming between you from this one interaction.

The process was… well, difficult to say the least. The conversation played out in fits and starts, with more awkward pauses than smooth exchanges.

“Do you have 100 yen coins? The machines don’t take card,” you asked, your voice soft but practical, as you glanced up at him.

You noticed his smile falter for the briefest moment, as if the question caught him off guard. “No…” His reply was gentle, almost embarrassed, and his eyes widened slightly when you wordlessly handed him a few of your coins.

“Here, take them,” you said, pressing the cold coins into his hand. His fingers brushed yours, warm and hesitant. “There’s a coin machine in the lobby—make sure to use it next time.”

His response was silent, but telling. You caught the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks deepening, the warmth of your simple touch amplifying the effect. His smile, a little sheepish, stretched wider, as if this small kindness meant more to him than you could have known. He didn’t say anything else, simply nodding his head in quiet thanks, his expression soft, almost grateful.

It was hard to ignore the way his entire demeanor shifted—how something about him seemed lighter now, more attuned to you. Like your gesture had unlocked something inside him.

“I’m assuming you don’t have detergent either, do you?” you asked with a playful sigh, grabbing your own bottle before he could answer. “Use mine. I hope you don’t mind floral scents.”

You began pouring the sweet-scented soap into both machines, the fragrant aroma filling the room. You didn’t look up at him right away, too focused on the task at hand, but when you finally did, you found him watching you—not in a way that felt invasive, but with a quiet, contemplative gaze. His eyes, hidden behind his tinted glasses, seemed locked on you, like he was seeing something… special. Something only he could notice.

“No,” Satoru replied softly, his voice calm and almost reverent. “I don’t mind… at all.” There was something different in his tone—an almost affectionate undertone, like the scent would remind him of this exact moment, of you. His heart beat faster, though his outward appearance remained composed, as if trying to keep something at bay.

The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, and as it hit your face, you became haloed in light, your movements graceful in their simplicity. To him, it wasn’t just the detergent or the coins or the smile. It was you—the way you moved, the way you looked at him without judgment, the way your kindness seemed to come so naturally.

That’s what you were. Sunshine. A soft, warm light in a world that, for him, often felt cold and distant.

His chest tightened slightly, not in a suffocating way, but in a way that made him want to keep you in his orbit just a little longer. Maybe he didn’t know much about you—yet—but there was a pull, a gravity you had, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to resist it. Your small act of kindness had stuck with him, dug into his thoughts in a way he didn’t expect. Maybe it was the ease of it, how you didn’t even hesitate to help him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He found himself wanting more of that warmth, more of you.

“Next time, be better prepared,” you said lightly, your voice snapping him out of his thoughts. You offered him a small smile, playful but warm, as you closed the detergent bottle.

“Next time,” he repeated softly, savoring the way those words sounded—like a promise of more to come. His smile was gentle, almost too sweet for someone like him, but there was something else behind it too. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

After you both finished with the laundry, you were about to give him a polite wave and go your separate ways. But as you turned to head back, Satoru didn’t just leave. Instead, he fell into step beside you with a light, almost bouncy stride, like there was nowhere else he wanted to be. His grin hadn’t faded, but there was something sharper about it now, a little too wide, a little too excited.

“What floor?” he asked, stepping into the elevator with an easy, practiced grace, like this was all a game he knew the rules to. His eyes—what you could see of them behind his tinted glasses—were trained on you, a flicker of curiosity sparking within them.

“Three, please,” you replied, adjusting your basket of clothes in your arms, not quite prepared for the way his expression lit up at your words.

“Oh, you’re kidding.” His voice came out soft, but there was an unmistakable note of giddiness underneath, a sort of delighted surprise that felt a touch too enthusiastic. “That’s my floor too.” His smile widened, a little too much, and he tilted his head as if waiting for the next punchline to land. “I’m in 301.”

You blinked, taking a moment to process before offering a polite smile. “I’m 302. You just moved in next door?”

For a second, he froze—his grin faltered, then returned twice as strong. A low, almost breathless chuckle escaped him, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. Glasses sliding down slightly to reveal his bright blue eyes that sparkled with amusement. “Seriously? You’re that close? Right next door?”

He leaned back against the elevator wall, letting the revelation sink in, his gaze never leaving your face. It felt like he was studying you, absorbing every little detail—your expression, the way you shifted the basket, the exact moment your surprise faded into a more neutral reaction. His fingers tapped lightly against the side of his laundry basket, almost like he was containing his excitement.

“Well, isn’t that… something,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. The playful edge in his tone softened, replaced by something more thoughtful, more intent. “It’s almost like we were meant to run into each other today.”

His words hung in the air, the way he said them making your stomach flutter uneasily. He seemed more than pleased by the coincidence, and his smile—though outwardly harmless—felt like there was something deeper behind it, something intrigued and hooked.

The elevator doors opened, and he held the door for you, watching you with that same smile, now laced with quiet amusement. “After you, neighbor,” he said, his voice lighter, but still with that underlying edge of fascination.

You stepped out, feeling the weight of his gaze follow you down the hall. As you reached your respective doors, Satoru lingered, standing a little too close, his eyes tracing the outline of your door—302—like he was mentally noting it down, cataloging every detail.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” he teased, but the playful tone was almost too sweet, too easy. There was something in his gaze—sharp, calculating beneath the teasing exterior—that made it hard to shake the feeling that he was watching you in a way that was more than neighborly.

“Lucky us, huh?” he added, his voice dipping slightly, as though he was tasting the words.

You offered a small, polite laugh, trying to keep the conversation light. “Yeah… I guess so.”

He stood there for a beat longer than necessary, as though he was savoring the moment. His grin, still plastered on his face, now looked like a cat’s—playful, but predatory, like he had just stumbled onto something unexpected and wonderful. Something he didn’t plan on letting go of any time soon.

“See you soon, 302,” he said softly, before finally turning to his own door. But even as he disappeared into his apartment, you could still feel the lingering intensity of his presence.

Perhaps if you didn’t have such a need to help people, you wouldn’t have let him get too close.

But that’s what led to the next few weeks of constant, seemingly innocent requests from Satoru.

At first, it was small things. Harmless, right?

“Hey, did you accidentally get my package?” he asked, showing up at your door one morning with that same disarming grin. His glasses were perched on his nose, eyes sparkling with an almost childlike glint. You hadn’t, of course. You always kept an eye out for your own deliveries, but it was an easy mistake. The first time, anyway. It happened again a few days later. Then again. And each time, his grin seemed just a little brighter, as if this routine delighted him more than it should.

You began to wonder how much stuff he was ordering. Or if he was ordering anything at all.

Next came the plant.

“I’m out of town for the next few days,” he mentioned casually, leaning against your doorframe one evening. His posture was relaxed, but his presence was hard to ignore. The tinted glasses were gone this time, leaving you to face those brilliant blue eyes directly. They sparkled, drawing you in without effort. In his hands, he held the saddest little pot you’d ever seen—some limp, half-dead thing that looked like it needed a funeral rather than a caretaker. “Can you take care of this fella for me? Just water it a bit…dunno maybe talk to it? Plants like that, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pitiful plant. “This thing’s already half-dead.”

His grin widened, a soft chuckle slipping from his lips. “Yeah, well, if anyone can bring it back, it’s you. Sunshine.” He winked, his tone playful, but his gaze held you for just a moment too long. His words felt like more than a compliment, like he was testing you, seeing just how far you’d go for him. Just how close would you let him get? And somehow, you found yourself agreeing, even though you knew it was a lost cause.

Then came the bento boxes.

“Oh!” he exclaimed one morning, catching you just as you were heading out for work. His eyes landed on the small lunchbox in your hand, wrapped neatly in a blue cloth with a white bunny pattern. “You make your own bento boxes? That’s adorable.” His grin was almost teasing, his tone light, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. “Can you make one for me, too?”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “I… what?”

“I’ll pay for the groceries,” he added quickly, as if that would fix the oddness of the request. “Actually, here—take my card.” Without hesitation, he pulled out his wallet and pressed a black card into your hand. His fingers brushed yours, lingering just a little too long, and his eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “Buy whatever you need. Go crazy.”

You stared at the card, unsure of what to say. “Gojo-sama, I really can’t—”

“Satoru,” he corrected smoothly, his smile never faltering. “No need for the formalities.”

You hesitated, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. You couldn’t just call him by his first name, right? You couldn’t just make lunch for him like you were… some kind of housewife, could you?

“Oh, sure you can!” His energy was relentless, sweeping over your hesitation like it didn’t exist. “Come on, it’s no big deal. You’re already making one for yourself, right? What’s one more?”

His voice was as light as always, the teasing playful, but underneath it was something that made you uneasy. He had inserted himself into your life so effortlessly, so quickly, that you barely had time to question it. Each favor seemed so small, so trivial—until they weren’t. Each one drew him closer, inch by inch, as if he was weaving himself into the fabric of your routine.

And the worst part? He made it all seem so casual, like he was just being a friendly neighbor. You could almost convince yourself that’s all it was. Almost.

So, bento boxes became part of your daily routine—unless, of course, Satoru told you he’d be out of town. Wouldn’t want good food to go to waste, right? You always carefully prepared them, even going as far as to cut a few vegetables into cute shapes: stars, flowers, little moons. But never hearts. You remembered him teasing you about that once, saying hearts were his favorite shape, followed by a playful wink. You’d laughed it off at the time, assuming it was just his usual charm, the same charm he probably used on the girls who left phone numbers scrawled on his palm. He had to have someone else in his life—a supermodel, perhaps, given how effortlessly handsome he was.

Yet... he never seemed happy about it. If anything, he seemed lonely. Whenever you talked, it felt like he craved more than just the conversation. It was in the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his entire body seemed to lean closer, like he needed something deeper, something that went beyond friendly banter or casual encounters.

And maybe that’s why you found yourself worried when he would disappear for days, even a week at a time. You tried to brush it off as his job—probably some business trip or other—but it gnawed at you, that feeling of absence. When he came back, though, he always brought something with him, some small trinket, a souvenir, like he needed to remind you of him even when he wasn’t around.

This time, it was a teddy bear. Soft, plush, with a bright "I ♥ Kyoto" shirt. You smiled when he handed it to you, though the way the bear’s eyes gleamed under the light made you feel uneasy for just a second—like they were watching. You tried to shake off the odd feeling. The gesture was sweet, after all. Satoru always put in effort, even if his gifts were sometimes... peculiar.

After the bear came the snack. A box of mochi, wrapped in temple paper, fresh from his trip. "Got these at a temple," he said casually, offering them to you with that charming smile. "They’re best before they get stale."

“You went all the way to Kyoto? For just a couple of days?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “That must’ve been expensive... What do you do exactly?”

His laughter was quick, soft, as if your question amused him. “Oh, nothing too exciting. Just work.” He waved a hand dismissively, his tone light and playful, but still vague. Always vague.

You were used to it by now, his avoidance of direct answers. The more you asked, the less you felt like you actually knew about him. It made him seem almost too mysterious, in a way that kept you intrigued but also wary. Was he hiding something, or was he just playing around?

For a brief moment, you wondered if he could be involved in something shady. Maybe the Yakuza? But then you laughed at the thought. Satoru? Yakuza? He could barely keep a plant alive, much less run some underground empire. And besides, with his teasing and carefree attitude, he probably couldn’t harm a fly.

Still, the mystery lingered around him like a fog you couldn’t quite see through. Every time he dodged your questions with that casual grin, you felt like there was something you were missing, a deeper part of him just out of reach.

And as you set the teddy bear on your bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it, or perhaps he, was watching you. Waiting.

The next morning, you stood in front of Satoru’s door, barely awake, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lightly tapped on the doorframe. In your hands, you held his bento box, neatly wrapped in a blue fabric that almost perfectly matched the color of his eyes. You’d stayed up late preparing it, cutting the veggies into stars just the way you knew he liked. It had become part of your routine by now, but despite the growing sense of familiarity, something still felt... off. You couldn't quite put your finger on it.

The door swung open, revealing Satoru dressed in a dark blue uniform, his trademark blindfold wrapped tightly around his eyes. You’d seen him like this a few times before—though you never quite understood why he wore it. But then again, you never asked. You were certain he’d just brush it off with that same playful smile, teasing you without ever giving you a real answer. Still, sometimes the curiosity gnawed at you.

“I can already tell it’s going to be amazing,” Satoru said, his voice smooth and chipper as always, his lips curling into a smile. “Curry buns, right? You spoil me, Sunshine.”

When he reached for the bento, his hand brushed yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His touch was warm, and it sent a subtle, unsettling tingle up your arm. You couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or just another one of his casual gestures, but the weight of his gaze—despite the blindfold—felt heavy.

“Oh?” His tone shifted slightly, almost as if he’d been waiting for the moment. “Do you mind if I use your phone really quick? I need to call my driver for work. My phone’s updating, and it’s taking forever... Did yours get that new update last night?”

You blinked, slightly confused. “Update? Uh, maybe... I don’t remember?” You handed him your phone without thinking too much of it. His smile widened as he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours again, lingering in that same, deliberate way.

He quickly dialed a number, bringing the phone to his ear while falling into step beside you. His stride matched yours perfectly, like it was second nature to him. As you both walked toward the elevator, you found yourself glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Satoru seemed perfectly relaxed, almost too relaxed, as if walking alongside you like this was just another part of his day. But something about the situation gnawed at the back of your mind. Had there really been an update? You couldn’t remember seeing any notifications about it.

Satoru spoke briefly into the phone, his voice low and calm. You couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but the way he effortlessly integrated himself into your space, always so close, always so present—it was starting to feel a little too comfortable for your liking. He handed your phone back with a casual smile as the elevator doors opened.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket. “You’re always saving me.” His tone was light, playful, but the way he said it, the way he always seemed to need you—whether for small favors or something more—it left a lingering unease you couldn’t quite shake.

“Do you need a ride?” Satoru asked, glancing over at you with that lazy grin that always made you feel a little warmer inside. “You work at that finance building next to the Lawson, right? My friend Nanami used to work there. Said the bosses are real assholes, but I heard they just got bought out?”

You paused, taken aback for a moment. How did he know where you worked? Maybe he’d seen your badge when you came home late or noticed it while you were passing by his door. You decided not to dwell on it, chalking it up to coincidence.

You shrugged, forcing a smile. “A ride? Hm... I don’t really mind taking the train. It’s refreshing, you know?” As you glanced down at your phone to check a quick email, you noticed a new app on your home screen. Was there an update last night? You had no recollection of it, but you pushed the thought away.

“I insist! My driver, Ijichi, won’t mind at all,” he urged, his tone bright and teasing. “Plus, it’s on the way to a meeting I need to be at. And speaking of which—how about dinner tonight? I actually used that coupon book you gave me.” He chuckled lightly, adding, “Not that I really need to save money, but it’s fun to try!”

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but you quickly shook your head. “Dinner? Oh, I don’t know, Satoru. I just got this new role at work, and I might have to stay late tonight.”

His grin wavered for just a heartbeat, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Is that so? Surely you can get the night off for just one night. I mean, you work so hard cooking for me every night…” His voice took on a slightly softer tone, almost pleading. “Or maybe if it’s easier, could I start eating dinner with you?”

His eyes sparkled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, but you brushed it off. He was just being friendly, right? Satoru had always been a bit too eager to be around you, but you never thought much of it. You laughed, trying to lighten the moment. “I don’t know if I can handle cooking for two! You’re a big guy; I’d probably run out of food.”

Satoru leaned closer, his expression playful yet somehow serious, as if he were weighing your response. “Come on, I promise I won’t eat you out of house and home. Besides, it would be nice to have someone to share dinner with. I mean, I already take so much from you—like your delicious bentos.” His grin widened, but you could sense something else lurking behind his playful demeanor.

You shrugged, trying to keep things light. “Well, if you’re really going to be that much trouble, I guess I can let you join me for dinner now and then.”

“Great! I can’t wait,” he said, the eagerness in his voice almost unsettling. It felt like he was a bit too excited about it, and while it made you smile, there was an undercurrent of intensity that left you feeling a bit unsure. But then, you brushed it aside. Satoru was just a quirky guy who liked to joke around; he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

Once a night quickly led to every night—if he didn’t have to work late. You often wondered when this guy ever found the time to sleep. Yet, you found it oddly comforting to have him around, even if he was a little too clingy.

Each time he came over to your apartment, Satoru would fidget with your knickknacks, touching the stuffed animals that cluttered your couch and playfully harassing the plants on your windowsill. It felt innocent enough at first, but with every touch, you noticed how he seemed to absorb every detail of your space, like a sponge soaking in your essence.

You often caught him stealing glances at your photos, his eyes narrowing in concentration as if he were dissecting each moment. “Did you really travel there? It looks fun,” he’d remark, his tone light yet laced with something deeper—an interest that made your stomach flutter, but not entirely in a good way.

It started to feel odd, though—how did he know precisely what time you would be home? More importantly, how did he seem to always be waiting just outside your door, a lovestruck grin plastered across his face, as if he had been standing there for ages, anticipating your arrival? You brushed it off, convincing yourself it was merely a coincidence, but the uneasy feeling lingered, nestled in the back of your mind.

Daily rides to work became the norm, and sometimes after work, he’d bring over wine—something fancy you would chastise him for, telling him he needed to save money. But he always waved off your concerns with a teasing grin, “What’s money when I have you?” He’d chuckle, leaning a little too close, and you’d laugh it off, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze.

Tonight was no different; the two of you were nestled on the couch, leaning in closer than usual, wine glasses in hand. Something felt off, yet you couldn’t pinpoint it as your vision began to swirl.

“I think I should call it a night,” you murmured softly, attempting to get up. Just as you started to rise, Satoru’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you back against him. “Here, wait for the spins to go away. Just use me as support,” he said, his voice smooth like silk.

As you leaned against him, you couldn’t help but notice how solid he felt—his rock-hard chest seemed broader than before, radiating warmth that enveloped you. His smile was chilling, like the night sky, yet there was something darker lurking behind it. The conversations you shared flowed easily, but the intimacy felt different, tinged with a strange urgency that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

You tried to shake off the unease creeping in, but each time you brushed your fingers against the wine glass, it felt like he was watching you—really watching you, as if he could see straight through you. Was he?

You began to notice things shifting in your apartment. A new decorative item here, a small plant there. At first, you attributed it to your own absent-mindedness, but the more you looked around, the more it felt like he was leaving pieces of himself behind, integrating into your life in a way that felt oddly possessive.

When you glanced over at him, his eyes gleamed with that familiar spark, but it was mixed with something else—an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know, sunshine,” he started, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I care about you, you know?”

You chuckled nervously, attempting to lighten the mood. “I can take care of myself, Satoru.”

But the way he tilted his head, that playful smile transforming into something more fervent, made your heart race in a different way. “I know you can, but wouldn’t it be better if I helped? We could make a great team.”

You felt the weight of his gaze on you, an unwavering focus that made your skin prickle. “Yeah… a team,” you repeated, but the word felt heavy on your tongue.

“Let’s keep looking out for each other, alright?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear.

And as the shadows of the room flickered with the light of the TV, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already doing just that—watching over you, waiting for the right moment to take the next step.

You were caught in his web, and every part of you warned that getting closer could lead to something dangerously intoxicating, but you couldn’t seem to pull away. Not like he’d let you either.

The world seemed to sway a bit more. Satoru's fingers deftly grabbed the wine glass from your hand and set it on the table, his movements fluid and deliberate, as if choreographed.

“You know, Sunshine,” he cooed softly, his voice a low murmur that seemed to vibrate in the air between you, “the world is a really dangerous place. There are monsters out there… really scary ones.” His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt your heart thud erratically in your chest, panic blooming in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t move. Why couldn’t you move?

Satoru leaned closer, the space between you charged with an unsettling energy. “You’re so lucky that I just… that I just need you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re the only light I need.”

The intensity in his eyes deepened, and a chill ran down your spine as he continued, “You see, I let someone else leave me. I just can’t do that to you. Let you leave. Let you get hurt.” His lips curled into a soft chuckle, but it sounded dark, echoing with something sinister. “You’re kind of weak, you know?”

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words. “My best friend told me to always protect the weak... so I’m going to protect you for now, okay? We’re going to be a happy little family.” The way he said it felt like a promise and a threat, all wrapped in one.

Your eyes widened when you felt him tilt your chin up, forcing you to look directly into his lovesick gaze. His pupils were blown wide, and that wide smile on his lips sent a wave of dread crashing over you.

“Sunshine…thank you for lighting up my world. Letting me see how kind the world can be,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice twisted with an almost manic glee. And before you could react, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours with a fervor that knocked the breath out of you. The kiss was wet, sloppy, as if he had never kissed anyone before. He chased your lips with such fervor as if he was scared to lose you. This wasn’t just a kiss; as his hands held you closer, enveloping you within his warmth, this was a claim. A proclamation that he wasn’t going to let you go. His passion felt overwhelming, consuming, and you realized with a sinking heart that it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.

Your mother’s words rang in your mind, sharp and clear: “Never feed a stray; they’ll never leave.”

#jjk #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #yandere x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru #dark gojo satoru #yandere #soft yandere

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daisykihannie · 6 months ago

Text

𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 | 𝙻.𝙵𝚇

Day 6 of 8 days of kinks: Public Sex

Pairing: dom!felix x fem!reader

Warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, established relationship, kinda dub-con, biting, almost crying, etc.

a/n: i actually really like this one? i hope you don’t mind the lack of plot here

@chvnlix Day 6: Here

“Felix!? what are you-“ you were cut off by your boyfriend clamping his hand over your mouth, his other hand holding the base of your neck to hold you in place. He was looking around like he was hiding, running, from someone.

You stared at him with wide eyes, your arms hugging your breasts in a poor attempt to hide them on reflex even though Felix could probably map out every feature of them with his eyes closed.

Felix let out a deep sigh when the coast was clear, giving you a blinding smile that made his eyes turn upward into soft crescents before he removed his hand from your lips. “Hi baby~” he cooed in a whisper. “Fe-“ and you were cut off again with his hand covering your mouth again. He looked at you with wide eyes, a warning to be quiet and then removed his hand again.

“Felix- what are you doing in here?” you whisper shouted, confused and a bit snappy with your tone while your eyes shot around the dressing room that you were still half naked in.

“I missed you.” he pouted, feigning offense. “Lix. I was gone for all of 10 minutes. I literally had one more dress to try on and then I'd be right out.” you tried your best to point out how insane Felix’s actions were without having to flat out say it.

He grabbed your wrists, removing them from your breast and pulled your arms down to your side and swinging them left and right cutely. “Did you not miss me?” he asked and looked at you with the biggest, wet, puppy dog eyes and pout.

You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes at his antics before speaking. “Of course I missed you Sunshine, but I was going to be right out in only a few minutes.” you stared at him sweetly with furrowed brows and a fond smile. You couldn’t help it, you love him too much even with how clingy he was. He was too fucking cute to deny and you were so unbelievably weak for this man.

He moved his hands to your bare hips, you were almost completely naked except for the thin fabric of your panties that barely covered you. He ran his thumbs in gentle circles along your hip bones and allowed his eyes to travel the expanse of your bare skin, taking an extra long moment to take in the sight of your breasts sitting pretty for him.

He tugged you in by the hips so your chest was flush against his covered chest and your pelvis collided with his, a muffled moan slipping out of his throat. “He missed you too baby.” he said and rolled his hips into you, forcing you to feel his cock that was hard and straining against his jeans.

You bit your lip at the feeling and felt butterflies erupting in your stomach. “L-lix…” you called out in a whisper, trying to sound stern but it came out as a whimper instead. Felix knew that you were wrapped around his finger, knew that you couldn’t fight the arousal that he could easily pull from the deepest parts of your being.

“Let’s help each other out, yeah?” he purred into your ear and continued rolling his hips, dragging his cock against your core that might as well have just been bare considering how thin the sheer fabric of your panties were.

“W-we can’t baby. We’re in public, what if we got caught.” you tried to reason, unsure if you were trying to convince him or yourself that this was a bad idea. The idea of possibly getting caught with your boyfriend's cock inside your cunt made it even harder to deny how arousing the situation was.

“We won’t get caught. We just need to stay quiet.” he hummed, removing one of his hands from your hips and pushing two of his fingers between your thighs and applying pressure to your clit. A whimper threatened to escape your chest when Felix covered your mouth again.

“I said to be quiet, doll.” he purred and tilted his head with an evil, teasing smirk on his face. He started rubbing his fingers in circles against your bud, causing your legs to shake at the stimulation.

“My pretty baby is so wet for me, your panties are completely soaked.” he cooed and withdrew his fingers which caused you to whimper at the lack of sensation. You watched intently as he brought his fingers into your line of sight and separated them from each other, a string of your juices keeping the digits connected before he was dragging them across his tongue. He closed his mouth around his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan and his eyes rolling back.

“You always taste so sweet. I just can’t get enough.” he moaned out, placing his hand on your thigh and hiking it up to rest over his hip. He removed his hand from your mouth, diving into a bruising kiss that was desperate and messy.

You swallowed down as many of your moans as you could as Felix eagerly licked around your mouth, savoring as much of your taste as he could. He kept your leg in its place on his hip and used his free hand to undo the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down and shoving the fabric down to rest around the thickest part of his thighs.

When he released his aching cock, it recoiled up to slap against your sloppy cunt and the two of you swallowed each other's moans. He continued rolling his hips, allowing his cock to slip and slide against the now transparent fabric and through your folds. His cock very quickly became a sloppy mess from your juices, his pubes beginning to stick together with the sticky fluids.

You felt his fingers between your legs again, pulling the fabric to the side, The tip of his cock teasing your swollen clit directly now and your knees threatened to buckle, whining and begging into your boyfriends hungry mouth.

“Don’t worry my love, I'm gonna take care of you. I promise.” he hummed against your spit-shined lips and began to kiss down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot and moving his hand back to your mouth. “I just don’t trust you not to get us caught.” he followed up and slammed his cock into you, your scream muffled by his hand.

Thank god he didn’t trust you, he knows you too well. His hips stilled and he had to take a few deep breaths to keep from spilling inside you already with the way your hole fluttered around his length.

“You always feel like heaven. My cock fits so perfectly inside your pretty cunt. It’s like it was made for my cock.” he moaned quietly into your ear, his voice thick with his arousal causing it to be even deeper than usual. His hand stayed clamped over your mouth in a vice grip as your eyes began rolling into the back of your head. The drag of his heavy cock through your walls was addicting. The way his cock would drive directly into your g-spot with every thrust in had you trembling.

Drool was spilling from your mouth and down your chin through the seam where his hand stayed against your flesh. He wrapped his other hand around your waist in a bruising hold to keep you up. He buried his face into the side of your throat and began mouthing at the soft flesh to muffle his own moans. You had to breathe through your nose heavily as your head began to spin from the abuse to your g-spot.

His pace was picking up as well, punching small “ah ah ah”s from your gut everytime the head of his cock nudged against that spongey spot buried deep inside you. “Fuck doll. Sucking me in so beautifully. Gonna cum inside, fill you up like you like.” he moaned out, his thrusts growing more frantic as time went on. You were on the brink of crying as the knot in your stomach continued tightening at a rapid pace.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, getting closer every time you could hear someone right outside the dressing room you two were in. The fear of knowing that at any second the two of you could get caught had your orgasm crashing into you with the intensity of a cluster of fireworks exploding deep inside your gut. You clamped down around Felix’s cock as your body began to convulse in his hold. He let out soft hisses as he pushed through your orgasm.

He continued to thrust through the vice grip your pussy had on him, pushing him to topple over the edge as well. He bit down on your shoulder hard to muffle his own cries as he spilled inside of you. His cock was buried as deep as he could get it, inside of you and you felt him painting your walls white, his cock twitching and stretching the muscle of your pussy as he filled you up. It felt like he was cumming forever and you felt so full that it was bordering on painful.

When he stopped cumming, he stayed buried inside of you and was left panting when he pulled away from your shoulder. “Shit baby…” he mumbled with a blissed out expression on his face.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you were left panting as well, slumped back against the mirror behind your back. Your skin felt sticky and you let out a hiss at the cold metal once it made contact with your skin.

Once Felix caught his breath, he still didn’t pull out and kept you plugged up with his cock to keep his cum from spilling out of you. He took a hold of where your panties clung to your hips and pulled them hard, ripping the fabric on one side and then moving to the other.

“Lix! what are you-“ you were cut off by his cock slipping out of you and before you could complain about being empty he shoved your underwear inside your cunt before anything could leak out.

“Can’t leave a mess and get caught, my love. Gotta be my good girl and keep my cum inside you till we get home.” he smiled, patting your thigh and allowing your leg to drop from his hip. Your thigh was beyond sore and you felt like a newborn deer trying to stand.

“Go ahead and get dressed so we can go home.” he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead and gathered your clothes, helping you get dressed again and the two of you slipped out of the store unnoticed and not bothering to check if there was any mess left behind, giggling like two high schoolers.

#han and felix 8 days of kinks #han and felix collab #8 days of kinks #daisyhannie #chvnlix #skz smut #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #straykids smut #stray kids fanfic #felix hard thoughts #felix x reader #lee felix #felix #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix smut

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j-jinxee · 9 months ago

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ALASTOR DRABBLE -☆

Suggestive under the cut!

"Holy shit Alastor! Is that a lipstick stain?" Angel asked, referring to a red smudge on the collar of Alastors white button up.

The hotel staff had planned a nice dinner night for all the new guests they'd gotten recently, meaning everyone wore their best suited attire.

"Ha! You're seeing things my good man."

- flashback to earlier -

You'd just finished applying your lipstick, setting the tube down on your vanity as your date for the evening came out of the bathroom. You were so thankful that Alastor was interested in you, everyone knew he wasn't really one for romance, yet here he was as your dinner date.

"Oh my stars! You look so good in that outfit! I knew it'd suit you." You were the one who bought him this outfit, since he wasn't used to wearing anything but his usual dress coat.

"I'm glad you like it my dear! I wouldn't be wearing it for anyone else." It was rare to see him without some sort of coat covering his figure, so you wanted this outfit to be absolutely perfect.

You got up from your vanity and made your way over to the doorway he was standing in. Reaching up to straighten his collar, then looking up to meet his eyes. The smile he wore was hypnotising, and the effect it had on you was serious, it made you smile too - most likely from intimidation. You shifted to your tip-toes and gave him a peck, forgetting about your lipstick that wasn't kiss-proof.

"Oh!" You giggled at the sight of Alastor with lipstick on, yet he didn't know what had occurred. "What's so funny darling?" You laughed and lead him to the mirror, letting him see what you'd done. "Would you look at that..." he spoke, "you've marked me, that's different." His eyes grew darker as he observed the vibrant red on his skin, "you want some more?" You asked with a smile.

"How could I say no to a smile like that? Go ahead my dear." He said, crouching down a bit just so you could reach his neck. You hands grasped his collar, keeping him still as you peppered kisses all over his neck and jawline. Giggling the whole time because of how pretty he looked, absolutely covered in your affection. His hands started to drag up your dress, which was already short to begin with. The room started to fill with lust, you could feel it surrounding you, moving up to Alastors lips to capture him in a proper kiss. Feeling his tongue invade every inch of your mouth, smudging the red substance all over him in the process. His hands got dangerously close to your heat, ready to rip off your dress and take you right now, but suddenly-

*bzz* *bzz* *bzz*

"Oh shit Charlie's calling! Uh helloooo"

"Where are you guys? We started like 10 minutes ago and you know I hate leaving people out."

"I'm so sorry Charlie, I uh- we'll be down in a sec I promise!" You ended the call and turned back to Alastor, getting a proper look at your work. Oh how you wish you could take a photo.

"We're late! We gotta go now." You said, scrambling to the bathroom and grabbing some makeup wipes to sort out your messy lips. Alastor slowly followed behind you and did the same, a little sad he had to rub it all off so soon."As much as I would love to show this off, something like this would tarnish my reputation. I'm sure you understand my dear." You smiled, happy that you found something else he enjoys in the bedroom. Little did he know, you accidentally got some on the side of his collar, very obvious since the shirt was white as well. Oh well.

- back to the present -

"I know a lipstick mark when I see one! You can't fool me old man." Of course Angel noticed, you couldn't wait to tell him what actually happened between you two in your next gossip session.

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

This came to mind outta nowhere and I was like FUCK YEAAAA so aha hope u like itt x

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battymommastuff · 2 years ago

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A Mother's Rage (GRAPHIC)

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: You became the one person that the Joker would never forget...

Inspiration

You couldn't remember what happened...

It all felt like a haze of blood...and the sound of metal hitting someone's skull....

The maniacal laughter filling your ears...

The feeling of your husband pulling you away from the man you were going to kill...

What you remember was Batman, your husband bringing in the dead body of your second son. Jason Todd. The little boy that had filled the hole Dick left. The Golden Son was next to you when you saw the body Bruce had been carrying. The scream that left your mouth would haunt Bruce, Alfred, and Dick's mind until the day they died.

You remember walking to the cold metal table that Jason's body was put on. You remember cradling his lifeless face while begging for him to make a sound. Looking into his cold, dead eyes that Bruce hadn't had the strength to close. You removed the mask that protected your identity from the world and rested your forehead against Jason's while sobbing. Dick could only stand next to you and comfort you as you screamed, and pleaded for Jason to come back.

You remember the soul destroying sadness in your heart turning into a murderous rage. Dick looked over to you as your sobs suddenly ceased. He watched as your head slowly lifted from Jason's and a look of darkness was on your face.

Bruce remembers that look as he was across from you. You were looking right at him...hoping that he had the same feeling in his heart as you did...but he didn't. Bruce knew something in you was awakening. A side of you that he once had when he was younger...the inner monster in us all...

The Joker remembers that night...all too well. He remembers boasting to Batman about murdering the Robin...the boy wonder was dead. Beaten to death with a crowbar. The same crowbar that he had proudly on display for everyone in Amusement Mile to see.

The Joker's men remember a shadow moving through the darkness. The remember being nervous for second then terrified a second later...then finding themselves nearly beaten to death as Batman's longest sidekick rampaged through Amusement Mile. She was so fast and brutal that they didn't get the chance to apply pressure to the triggers on their guns before their arms were bent backwards and snapped in half.

The Joker remembers watching her walk into his lair. Blood covering her mask, and suit. A batarang clenched tightly in her hand that she tossed to the side. He didn't get a word out before a fist connected with his face. The Joker could only laugh as she delivered blow after blow to his face. On the other side of the city your husband and son were racing to get to you.

The last thing you remember was watching The Joker laugh under you. Clutching his stomach as if you told him the funniest joke ever created. It filled you with an entirely new rage. You were going to kill him. The Joker would die tonight. Your eyes drifted up to the crowbar covering in your son's blood. It was sitting there as if it were a museum piece. That's when you blacked out.

That's when you could hear the sounds of metal hitting someone skull. The sound of blood and coughing starting to cover the sound of laughter. You weren't going to stop...you were going to kill him. He took someone from you...a debt needed to be paid.

Those who remember what happened that night would say that The Joker was lucky. Before You could deliver the fatal blow, Batman pulled you away from him. That's when you came back to reality. At one point, you'd abandoned the crowbar and went back to beating him with your fists. Nightwing was hovering over the Joker's body to see if he was still alive. Apart of him was glad to see the sight before him. The Joker deserved every minute of this.

It was then that he knew the depths his adoptive mother would go for her children. A depth that he wasn't sure Bruce would ever touch. He's seen the brutality that Bruce could get to, but this was different.

This became a night that everyone would remember...

#batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader #red hood #robin #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x batmom #tim drake x reader #batmom imagines #dick grayson #dc comics #dick grayson x batmom #nightwing #batmom x batfam #batmom

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wolfiesmoon · 8 months ago

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Bakery

Leona x gn!reader

ok but can we feel the love tonight tho

i learned something new recently and i want to put this knowledge to good use (smirks evilly at leona)

also i am sick asf right now so i apologise if this is sloppily proofread

It seems like being Leona's pillow has become a part of your daily at this point. It's become an unspoken routine for you.

Usually, he'd sleep anywhere but he had to adapt his sleeping habits a little because of you. Turns out most people don't find the floor of the greenhouse a comfortable napping spot.

Usually, the perfect spot is your room in Ramshackle dorm. It's quiet and empty, save for the pesky ghosts that interrupt the two of you sometimes. It makes for the perfect hiding place when Ruggie is bothering him with some stupid papers he needs to solve for potionology, too.

All in all, worth the walk to the dorm. Especially since he gets to see you and feel your warmth without fail.

You were already waiting for him on your bed, busying yourself with scrolling through your Magicam feed. Usually, you keep a few textbooks for studying with you, but exams have mostly concluded for now. You know once Leona attaches onto you, you're not going to be able to leave for atleast 2 hours, so it's always great to prepare in advance.

Sure enough, you heard familiar footsteps getting closer and the door opened to reveal your sleepy lover. His tail swished when he caught sight of you. What a lovely sight, indeed.

"Hey Leona, had a good day?" you ask casually and he sighs in response, mumbling something about being tired. Well, that's just the usual, isn't it?

He climbs up on the bed and you smile at his sleepy expression. He's so cute when he's sleepy, but you probably shouldn't tell him that unless you want to get glared at.

Instead of crashing on top of you like you're used to, though, he places his hands on your belly, still sitting at your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't even meet your eyes.

Suddenly, his hands start moving in a kneading motion. A surprise massage? Not that you mind it, but that's highly unusual coming from Leona of all people. If anything, it should be the other way around.

"Leona..?" you question, trying to get a good look at his face. You can't really see it well because of the hair that fell to the side of his face. But from what little you can see, he seems to be in sort of a trance right now. His eyes are barely opened and he's wearing a little satisfied smile on his face. He doesn't respond to you at all.

"Leona?" you try again, a little firmer this time. He suddenly stops, probably finally coming back to his senses. You can see the way his eyes widen for a moment before he falls down on top of you without a word, wrapping his arms around you. Now you can't see his face at all, unable to read his expression.

"Leona, what was that?" you hugged him back, still a bit dumbfounded. You weren't going to lie though, that felt really nice.

"Don't ever bring this up again." Leona did not seem in the mood to discuss what just happened any further. He could have sworn he left that behaviour behind as a toddler. How embarrasing.

He's kind of worried now. That's how much you affect him.

"Oh... uh, okay." you pet the back of his head lovingly. Hmmm... now that you think of it, Grim does the same thing sometimes. The common denominator with Grim and Leona is that they're both cats, atleast somewhat.

If you apply this knowledge to what you know about cats in general... Oh, Leona, that silly goose. Seems he's a bit embarrased about kneading on you. You wonder if it was pure instinct.

yep, turns out the big kitties knead too, ain't that just a testament to the tried and true saying "cat is cat"

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst x yuu #twst x you #twst x mc #twisted wonderland x you #leona kingscholar x mc #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x yuu #leona x you #leona x reader #leona x yuu #leona x mc #fluff #this was lowkey so embarrasing to write im screamigngngngn

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hwallazia · 5 months ago

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SIREN – 최산

synopsis . in which too many words aren’t needed to get laid with your dream man.

pairing . choi san & fem!reader

genre . smut (mdni!), strangers to lovers ??? (or smth like that), tooth rotting fluff at the end (ofc, it wouldn’t be a hwallazia work otherwise), non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 4,1k

DISCLAIMER! sub!san (in the beginning he acts all tough but he’s just a shy man who needs to be taken care of), dom!reader, unprotected sex (wrap before tap fellas), dirty talk, lots of teasing (reader taunts our poor needy sannie way too much), dacryphilia?, overstimulation, cowgirl position, blowjob, dry humping?, begging oh so much begging, creampie, squirting, petnames (sannie, baby, love, darling & more), softest!dom san at the end ((⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

NIC’S NOTES this is totally inspired in bruno mars & cardi b’s “please me” music video (song rec for the fic ofc!). firstly, i thought of writing this for yunho, but the idea of submissive san is just... *sighs* makes me go feral. i have no more words. so well, i hope you enjoy reading.. whatever this is <3

laughter echoing, heels clicking against the ground, and jewelry shining with the intermittent city lights. the night out with your girls was a total success, with a couple of boys dripping over themselves from just the look of your slim, god-sculpted figures and playful, perfect grins, teeth white as pearls. of course, a few sluts jealous of all the attention you and your crew were receiving —you think that one of the boys who asked for your number was some plastic blondie’s boyfriend. saying that you felt absolutely unreachable was an understatement, your red lipstick sticking perfectly to your desirable lips, your not-so-covering outfit fitting your body just right and your siren-like eyes making the legs of every man you ever landed your gaze quivering in anticipation. the effect you had was supernatural and the smooth masculine attention made your stomach jump in excitement and narcissism, your mind clouded by a god-complex fog.

even though some of the men who approached you with clear second intentions were hot and you’d understand if he had a queue of girls who wanted to get laid with him, you didn’t find any of them good enough for you. it’d be just a one-night thing but still, you wanted to look for a man that made your heart flutter just with the sight of him. unfortunately, that didn’t happen in the club, so you and your girls retired once the clock hit 4.

you all were still too hyped and too beautiful to go to your houses, so you decided to go to a taco place since your friend, mia, was craving some good tacos. with a fifteen-minute walk, you got to the restaurant. as your friends kept laughing loudly over something you wouldn’t understand even if you were sober, you pushed the door open, the bell above it making an annoying sound for your intoxicated brain. you analyzed the place: cookers doing their thing behind the counter, being the ones to blame for the fire coming from pans and the toe-curling smell of meat and fried condiments; a lovey-dovey couple sitting in the table of the corner, way too far from your location; and a few tables full of people of all ages. but there was this one table that your group couldn’t help but watch intently: four gentlemen talking about god knows what and drinking their “corona” brand beers occasionally. one of them noticed how his intense and siren-like gaze was above them, his legs sloppily kicking their friends under the table.

“ow! wooyoung what was that f—” the tall, bulky-figured man called san whined before he turned around and saw you and your group still standing right next to the entrance. holy fuck, he immediately thought. he had never seen a woman as flawless as you, your curves making his hands itch from the solely and uncontrollable desire of touching them. he licked his lips in anticipation.

“fuck, look at that girl.” who kicked his leg, wooyoung, expressed out of breath the moment his eyes landed on your friend, hana. heat suddenly running up his neck and ears, the same happening to the tallest of them, yunho, when he fixated his black orbs on hana’s sibling, yoona. “finest woman i’ve ever seen.”

“same here.” the second tallest sitting at the table, mingi, agreed as well as he analyzed mia’s figure; his bottom lip caught between his perfect white row of teeth, eyes telling not very biblical tales.

“i think i got hard,” wooyoung said and lowered his head to meet his non-erected crotch, earning a slightly harsh fist landing on the side of his shoulder, courtesy of yunho.

“how old are you, man? really” san spoke hypocritically. his dirty mind was playing the same or worse scenarios wooyoung’s had been thinking of with hana but with you. he was already picturing you naked, bent over his kitchen counter, your notorious plump ass completely under his mercy, drawing all the faces you could possibly make as his cock rammed roughly inside you, the flesh of your ass bouncing every time his hips met yours. even though he hasn’t heard your voice yet, he can imagine the divine, cute moans you would mutter with his cock still pistoning against your wet and incredibly tight—

“san? you good, man?” mingi swung his hand right in front of his reddened face, a laugh coming from his friends the moment he slightly shook his head, waggling the sinful thoughts away.

“someone was fantasizing” wooyoung teased in a singsong tone, mingi and yunho chuckling as well.

“hell. we gotta take those ladies home.” san uttered rapidly before his mind could process his thoughts. the men’s eyes fixated on your group, which was already sitting at a table near them, mia and hana enjoying two tacos each while you and yoona kept drinking a cocktail. they didn’t know what you and your friends were laughing about, but they desperately wished they could be part of the conversation. and they would.

“okay. fellas,” wooyoung started, his friends turning their heads. “follow me and my charm.”

san, mingi, and yunho sighed in unison. they didn’t know when the day would come when they would put up with at least half of the narcissism of their friend who was standing up, by the way, drawing hana’s attention, who had been watching him since he entered that restaurant. he made his way to your table, the rest of his friends following his steps like a toddler looking up to his older brother. although the boys would never have wooyoung as a role model.

“well hello ladies,” he pulled out the most charming, gravel-like voice he could, his friends choking a laugh since they perfectly knew that wooyoung was overdoing it. but if it gets them the results they’re expecting then they’d let him be. “do y’all mind us sitting here?”

the eight of you weren’t stupid, you knew what you wanted. and you and your girls, especially, were desperate for those men’s attention. dancing and twerking over completely random strangers just to get their cocks hard and leave was exhausting and unproductive since none of them were good enough for y’all. so the four of you didn’t waste another second and stood up from their places, each of you approaching your desired man: yoona with yunho, mingi with mia, wooyoung with hana, and you with san.

you grabbed his wrist, guiding him to a different table, far from your and his friends’ location, your unfinished drink left on the table. you sat first and san did the same thing, making himself a place next to you, his gaze locked with yours still without saying a word. you both just let your eyes talk for you, a fire ignited inside san’s dark orbs.

you both turned your heads to the exit door the moment you heard the ringing of a bell, wooyoung and mia disappearing behind it. before he could totally abandon the place, he looked at san and gave him a thumbs up holding a champion grin drawn on his face. once the door clicked shut, san chuckled deeply, your skin trembling just from the sound of it.

“hah, wooyoung really knows how to play.” he exhaled looking down for a bit but not doubting a slight second to return his eyes to yours, your absurdly captivating eyes.

“oh so wooyoung is his name?” you asked, a hint of seduction hidden in your voice.

“yes, why’re you asking?” he replied hiding his nervousness in fake bravery. aren’t you interested in him? why’d you ask for his friend? his best friend?

“he’s cute.” you smiled as if it wasn’t a big deal.

san’s insides were hollering with your response. “cute?!” his desperate mind screamed. he cleared his throat for a second before responding what moments ago he thought he wouldn’t be able to answer. “then why’d you come up to me instead of him?”

his little jealous act made your heart tender. was he already jealous of you calling other men “cute” when he doesn’t even know your name? adorable.

“’cause you’re cuter,” you said leaning close enough to him to pinch the tip of his nose, you didn’t miss the little scrunch he did. oh, this man was going to be the death of you. you pulled away with a grin before continuing. “so...” you trailed off, expecting him to complete your words with his name, still unknown to you.

“san.”

“san,” you repeated in a velvety tone that made san’s ear and belly tingle. “where do you wanna take this?”

san’s nervousness was quickly replaced by all the thoughts he had earlier when he first saw you. now he was the one who smoothly bent his figure over yours, cornering you between the wall and his bulky body. “as far as you allow me” his honey-dripping, but still sinful voice rang inside your eardrums, making you want to hear it all night long.

you smirked at his complete willingness and couldn’t help but kiss his lips. san hummed in the kiss, feeling relieved since he had been wanting to devour you the moment he saw you come through that door. his excitement won over his conservative side so he acted accordingly, his right hand made its way up to your jaw to insert his hot, skillful tongue inside your cavity; a soft whine from you was heard. you didn’t want to wait for his other hand to grab your waist, so you straddle his lap, your tiny skirt lifting up consequently, almost revealing your lace panties. san, like the gentleman he is, let you settle comfortably on him before reaching your skirt and pulling it down, so it could at least cover the important parts.

you finally broke the intense, breath-taking kiss just to mutter right on his lips. “let’s get out of here, hm?”

a few minutes passed and you both were already abandoning the place, getting in san’s car. you had agreed to go to san’s place, and san was more than pleased to take a woman like you home. the ride to his apartment was full of lingering touches here and there that were more than just skin-to-skin contact. your hand caressed his thigh dangerously, your long nails faintly stroking his hardened bulge. the self-control that san had to not jerk his hips upwards was supernatural, and you found this very amusing and hot.

you straightened your back and leaned over him, one of your breasts touching his arm faintly, which was gripping the gear lever with all the strength he had. “you’re very good at keeping it cool. let’s see if you still can when i suck your cock.” you sentenced, finally stroking his tight crotch, the hiss coming from his lips only feeding your eagerness to keep touching him, apparently, the way he likes.

“ugh, please” the fact that he was driving prevented him from shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, the feeling being too good to be true. what were you doing to him? you didn’t even have your hand wrapped around his dick, so why was he already panting like a bitch in heat? “p-please, i can’t—ugh—”

“don’t tell me you’re gonna cum with just a couple of strokes?” your teasing tone made his body shiver even more, this action not going unnoticed by you. a smirk was drawn on your lips, the effect you had on this man was even hot for you.

“n-no, i’m not.. ’s just that—hmph!” you grasped his cock tightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction.

“eyes on the road, sannie.” your velvet voice enveloped him even more in the cloud of your attracting effect. something inside san, warm and glowing at the praise, made his hanged-open mouth to let out the most precious mewl you’ve ever heard. you touched him three times more before releasing your grip on his cock, the silhouette of a slightly wet tent made your pussy clench.

“w-why’d you stop?” he whined at the loss of contact, his leg bouncing up and down in desperation.

you smiled, fingers brushing over the soft skin of san’s cheek. “let’s get home first, cutie.”

and he didn’t have to be told twice, his feet stepping harshly on the accelerator, your back hitting the car seat in consequence. “so desperate” you muttered under your breath, san being unable to hear your words.

finally, you made it to san’s place. he urgently rummaged through his pockets, looking for his apartment key. he inserted it on the lock and twisted it, opening the door. behind it, a dim-lighted, minimalistic, and quite spacious studio apartment was hidden, you entered before san did, looking all around you. “well uhm. this is my—mph!” he spoke while turning around to face you, but he was suddenly interrupted when you threw yourself at him to kiss him once again. you had become addicted to it on such short notice. you walked forward so he was walking backward, your eyes opening a little in the middle of the kiss to locate his bed. the moment you introduced your tongue inside his cavity, he knew it was over. he definitely wasn’t going to be the dominant one tonight. you guided him into his own bed, and when his calves hit its frame, he knew he could sit. you analyzed him before straddling his lap. god, san must’ve been sculpted by the heavens, all broad shoulders and chiseled muscles and a tapering waist that you had been a little obsessed with from the moment you landed your eyes on him.

you finally settled just fine on his lap, already making yourself a home in it. san instinctively grabbed a few handfuls of your ass before getting rid of your annoying top, your bra being the only piece of cloth attached to your body. but san was growing impatient, his lips desiring more than anything to suck your breasts. and fortunately, no words were needed since you could read him like a book. your hands reached your back and unhooked your bra in an instant, giggling at san’s excited mouth which didn’t waste much time before wrapping his lips around your nipples. hips stuttering at the feeling.

eventually, san included teeth and tongue to his ministrations, your back arching in response. “oh fuck, sannie. keep going,” you stroked his locks of hair and his nape tenderly. you continued speaking, “sucking a nameless woman’s tits. what does that have to say about you, darling?” you teased.

oh fuck you were right. you had asked him for his name, but he didn’t even bother, way too desperate for your body to even start with the formalities. he stopped his movements and unattached his lips from your nipple, it became erected when the cold air of the room passed through it, a shiver running down your spine. he stopped pleasuring you, but your hips were still rocking against his bulged cock, pants leaving his and your mouth. “i-i’m sorry. what’s—hah—your name?”

“yn, love.” you simply answered and brought your lips closer to the curvature of his ear, continuing your words in a faint whisper. “but you can call me whatever you want tonight” you tilted your head to the side and attached your lips to his neck, spreading sloppy kisses and licks all along it.

he was getting more and more excited as the minutes passed, which seemed to pass tortuously slowly. your bouncing hips placed significant pressure on his crotch, making his insides scream for relief. whines started to leave san’s mouth.

“a-ah, stop please.. it hurts” he pleaded with a broken voice, his aching cock begging for release. you stared at him from above, his sparkling eyes melting your heart.

“need something, baby?” your teasing tone was driving him over the edge. he didn’t want, he required your mouth on his cock. and now, otherwise, he’d explode.

“touch me, please” he whined. “i can’t take it.”

you were starting to feel sorry for the tightness you felt perfectly underneath you, but a small part of you wanted to keep messing with him for a bit longer. “but i am touching you, dear. need you to be more specific.”

he let out a shameless mewl at your words, closing his eyes for a second. suddenly, san on the verge of tears “just touch my cock! suck it, or fuck me. i don’t know, whatever you please but do something! please..”

a loving sigh left your lips as you caressed san’s cheek tenderly. “aw, baby. i’ll give you just what you want.”

you promised and complied. you moved off his thighs to get on your knees, shyness not being a feeling. the perfect fit of your figure between san’s toned legs made his cock twitch. your manicured hands trailed their way up to his pants, your fingers unbuckling his belt and pulling them down in a fast movement. you were desperate too, you had been craving his touch —and other prohibited things— all night. and finally your wish would come true.

you stroked his exposed member before running your tongue all over it, still not putting it explicitly in your mouth. his angry, reddened tip leaked drips of pre-cum, making it look like tiny pearls. you were impressed by the length and girth of it, the sight being completely mouth-watering. you didn’t make the poor man above you wait any longer, so you opened your mouth widely to finally dive in, enveloping his cock with your welcoming heat.

the sensation was overwhelming for san since his cock was sensitive from all the teasing you had done before. then he was forced to put all his weight on his arms which, located at his sides, tightly gripped the white sheets that would soon be soaked.

“oh my—fuck—” he choked out, sweat running down his temples.

your head bobbed up and down his length, what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth was being attended by your skillful hand. san’s high-pitched and breathy moans started to get louder when your nails caressed his balls gently while you took him all the way down, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat.

“close.. ugh, so fucking close” he exhaled, still grasping the sheets underneath him. because he couldn’t bring himself to touch, like you’re fragile, and everything will shatter if he does. even though he was the openly desperate one, he’d let you go at your own pace, politely petting your hair. “i—ah—i’m gonna cum, wait” he warned frantically and breathlessly, his hand pushing your shoulder gently, he didn’t want you to get dirty with his cum. such a gentleman even in a situation as lewd as that.

but you didn’t seem to care, way too immersed in his throbbing, addicting cock. you were committed to making his cum. and you did, a broken holler leaving san’s lip, swollen and red from biting them so harshly as your cavity was filled with hot spurts of his cum.

but that wasn’t enough for you. so you kept pumping his dick slowly as you got up, san’s hips jerking underneath you, shrieks coming from his mouth resonated across the room. after getting rid of your skirt, you resumed your initial position and placed your knees at his sides, his tired hands immediately resting on the outer sides of your thighs. you didn’t give him much time to recompose as you aligned his cock to your wet, unattended entrance.

“uh—wait yn, i just came. give me just a min—ahh!” he begged the moment he saw your body lower on his sensitive member. but it was too late, you had already pushed your panties aside and started bouncing up and down his length.

once again, the overwhelming sensation overcame san, and he surrendered, collapsing onto the mattress. a rush of coolness ran down his spine as the cold sheets met his sweat-drenched back, sending shivers through his entire body. you took advantage of his vulnerable position, resting your hands on his firm, plump chest. you began to bounce even harder, determined to milk every last drop of cum from his cock, feeling the tension build with each movement.

at that point, san was only blubbering nonsense underneath you, delirious, fucked out of his mind, his eyes glassy and lewd whines leaving his slick lips. “fuck—’s too much, too much, ahh!” he shamelessly moaned, not caring even a little bit about how loud he was. he’d probably lots of complaints from his neighbors. but he’d take care of that tomorrow, right now all he could this about was you and your wet, warm, and pulsating cunt squeezing his cock divinely.

“keep screaming for me, pretty boy” you expressed, unashamed as well. “make the whole building know who’s making you feel good.”

san whimpered even more loudly in response. “fuck—yn, please”

“who’s making you feel good?” you repeated just to get another couple of whispered ‘please’ as a response. but those weren’t the words you wanted to hear. “answer.”

your stern tone sent a warmer heat down his belly. “you, yn” he managed to respond but in a faint murmur. and still, that wasn’t what you were looking for. in consequence, you lifted your body up to only envelope his red tip with your walls and squeezed them on purpose, earning a loud, prolonged cry. “ah! yn, please!”

a smirk was drawn on his lips, satisfyingly going down him again. “please what, love?”

“make me cum! please, make me cum again” he mewled, a couple of tears streaming down his cheeks.

“isn’t that too greedy from you? you came not long ago.” you taunted him for the last time in the night.

“yes, i’m greedy! i just—ahh! i need to cum, pleasepleaseplease” he whimpered, repeating his prayers like a mantra.

you, enlightened by his begging, smiled sweetly and trapped his right nipple between your index and middle finger, playfully twisting them. “then cum, sannie. make a mess inside me.”

and those were the only words he needed, his cum even spilling out of your ravished cunt, mixed with your warm, clear juices. a sigh left your lips, your insides filled to the brim. “ahh, good boy, sannie. goood boy.” you trailed off your words as you fondled his cheeks, covered in sweat and tears.

your tired state made your body move faster than your mind could process and you laid down next to him. a few minutes of silence were necessary to stabilize your breathing and regain a normal body temperature. the cold night began to show its effects on each other’s skin, both suddenly feeling your hair stand on end.

“ooh” you uttered at the rushing cold breeze that ran through your legs up to your spine. “it’s cold.”

san didn’t say any words and just stretched his arm to reach the least dirty blanket and cover your bodies with it. he brought your figure closer to his as he enclosed your shoulder with his strong arm. a weird feeling of safety drowning your insides. it was such an intimate and loving moment even though the only thing you knew about each other was the other’s name. still, you didn’t want to move, you strangely enjoyed his company more than you expected.

san, after moments of complete silence, spoke, “wanna go out tomorrow?”

“mm? go out?”

“yeah. even though i only know your name, you’re the most beautiful, breathtaking woman i’ve ever seen in my life. and don’t get me wrong, i loved this, i think i might have an obsession with your body now.” you both chuckled, “but it’d be my greatest pleasure if you let me take you out on a date tomorrow.” he stared at you for a moment before continuing, “wanna know more about you.”

your still dumbfounded mind didn’t let you think clearly, so you could only mutter a few words, “apart from my name?”

he giggled softly, your heart melting as the sound reached your ears. a warmth spreaded through your chest consequently. “apart from your name.” he confirmed.

you didn’t have much to think about. this had never happened to you with any of the guys you had slept with, and it had always been your dream to find the one. the one who, in addition to your body, is interested in your soul, what you have to give. and it seemed like your dream man was right next to you, wrapping you with his captivating, safe arms. then your response was automatic, tenderly silent. “yes, i’d love to.”

san smiled fondly. “it’s settled then.” he brought his lips to your forehead to place a short, sincere kiss. “thank you, princess” he whispered in a low, sweet tone. your cheeks and heart warming at the sound of it. “let’s get some sleep, hm?”

you hummed lowly in response, nestling comfortably in his chest. reality hadn’t hit you yet, but it would soon. tomorrow! more specifically. but, for the moment, you just dedicated yourself to sleep soundly, trapped between the love of your life and wet sheets.

| masterlist

#© hwallazia #ateez #ateez smut #choi san #choi san smut #san smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san one shot #choi san imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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charlie-lec-stories · 11 months ago

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Good enough // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Max is not always the confident man he looks like.

Warnings: Self-esteem issues, some dark thoughts, talks about eating disorders.

Author’s Note: Men can also suffer from low self-esteem and body insecurities. Rate: +16 (inappropriate language)

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She always slept in the middle and Max was okay with that, because even though he loved to cuddle Charles, he was a living heater, like Max. Y/N was like an ice cube and it was great to have her in the middle, cooling them down. Watching her peaceful face in the morning was also a plus. That was the sight he found that morning, her laying face up, her lips slightly parted, Charles half on top of her, his nose buried on the crook of her neck and his left arm over her protectively, his fingers brushing Max's middle. The Monegasque was snoring softly, the noise muffled by Y/N's collarbones. As always, Charles was shirtless, it was impossible for him to rest well with clothes and it wasn't like the Dutchman or their girl would complain about it. On the contrary, she started progressively to sleep with less clothes on. Max wasn't sure when it happened but she went from loving to trying different PJ's and seeing which one was more comfortable to sleeping in just a tank top and a pair of cotton panties. Again, there were no complaints about that. Max could never complain about seeing them with little to no clothing, they were literally the most beautiful people he had ever met.

He knew that she was perfect since the first time he laid eyes on her, while they were teenagers. He felt his breath itch just looking at her face, and when they became closer and she started hugging him more, he became addicted to the touch of her skin, soft and plush under his fingers. He could remember the first time he saw her in underwear like a core memory, they were still friends and he had never felt so guilty for anything as he felt for his thoughts that night. She spent the night at his house, they both had a race the next day and her parents couldn't take her, so he offered her to stay at his house and go with him the next day. His father was less than pleased with his idea, but agreed anyway. She changed in front of him like it was the most normal thing in the world, he was her best friend and she felt safe with him, the tug of guilt he felt in his heart for looking at her like she was a whole meal still haunted him. But he thought she was breath-taking, every inch of her body was just too perfect to be real. He was seventeen at the time, so his mind went to places that he wasn't proud of, but even if he wasn't sexualizing her all the time now that they were older, he still could say that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Then there was Charles, who Max knew for a fact was the most wanted man in motorsport. People just worshiped his body like it was a whole temple and Max couldn't agree more with those people. He would definitely join a cult about Charles' body. From his cute, messy hair to his toned legs, Charles was a living Greek God and Max thanked Zeus every day for making his boyfriend figuratively allergic to wearing shirts. Summer Charles was his favorite, all hot and bothered, walking around sporting his smallest shorts and needing someone to apply sunscreen on his back three times a day. Max would always volunteer for that. But Spring Charles was also great, always wearing half buttoned shirts, chest showing teasingly. Max's second favorite was Autumn Charles, who liked to work out in compression shirts, leaving him and Y/N looking at his body the whole time they should be training. Winter Charles was less of a show off, but that doesn't mean he didn't serve... There were few sights as beautiful as the Monegasque in winter attire, with his nose reddened and smile on full display. Max could spend hours just looking at Charles sitting in front of the fire, warming up while chatting with Y/N about all of his favorite things.

He watched them both sleep for a few minutes, following the ups and downs of their chests, the covers up to Charles' hips, giving away just a peek of the navy blue panties Y/N wore that time to sleep. He felt lucky, but he also felt terrible about himself. As he got up from the bed, he sighed softly, doing the best he could to suppress the negative thoughts that tried to settle down on his mind. Walking down the hallway and towards the kitchen, he couldn't stop his body and it positioned itself in front of the mirror at the entrance of the living room. He looked at his reflection with a shy gaze, the dark shirt made him look slimmer, or at least he told himself that. The deep breath he took was shaky and when his hands moved to his hips, the hem of it tensed, highlighting a little roll on his lower belly. He looked away disgusted, his hands falling back down by his sides and walked quickly to the kitchen to start breakfast. He focused on his Stroopwafels, he wanted them to be ready before Charles woke up, or else he would complain about eating in the morning and skip breakfast. His boyfriend was a disaster when it came to food, he didn't like many dishes, and the Stroopwafels were one of the few things Charles liked to eat in the morning.

Max thought about skipping breakfast and instead going for a run, burning that roll he saw in the mirror, but he knew that it was not healthy behavior. He didn't like the way he looked, he did feel ugly, but he was aware of the limits between feeling bad about himself and doing risky things to achieve the body he wanted. Still, once in a while, his low self-esteem would entertain the idea of skipping a meal or extending a training session. He didn't resent his partners for being physically perfect, but he did feel like he wasn't good enough for their perfection. He would sometimes look at them, so incredibly good-looking together, and think that he didn't look as good as he should, like he was out of place with their beauty. The fact that they loved him was important to him, he understood that they loved him for his personality and not for his looks, and he wasn't a superficial man, constantly thinking about his or other people's looks, still, he sometimes wondered what they saw in him. When he was making out with them and they felt so into it, he would ask himself once in a while how it was possible that someone like him could turn them on. It was some kind of miracle that a woman who could have any man in the world, who already had Charles fucking Leclerc would want to have sex with him, or al least that's how he felt like.

"Morning, Amor". (Love). He heard Y/N voice as her arms wrapped around him, her cheek pressed against his back. He felt her kissing his shoulder and then playfully bite him. He laughed.

"Morning, Schat. How did you sleep?". He took the last Stroopwafel out of the pan and then turned around to face her.

"Bien, but woke up around 3 am wanting to peet and went back to sleep right away because you both were squeezing me so bad that I couldn't even go to the bathroom". (Good). She pouted and then giggled, making him smirk, loved her giggles. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, her hands moving to his hair to pull at it a little, he moaned but gathered his composure back quickly.

"No funny business, no time for that". He said against her lips and she huffed. It was a Wednesday and they were all traveling to the USA for the triple-header.

"It won't take too long, I promise". She dragged her hands down his torso, he loved every second of that, until she reached the hem of his shirt and her fingers touched the skin of his lower belly. He grew self conscious fast and then pushed her hands away. She looked at him worried, not for him not wanting to have sex but for him to refuse her touch as if it was burning him. He had those reactions once in a while and it always made her wonder what was wrong, but he never seemed open to talk about it.

"I just don't want us to be late, Schat". He quickly lied and she let it slide. He kissed her again, just to let her know that they were good. They heard Charles' footsteps and the conversation died there.

In Austin, they were gratefully surprised with the fact that they were staying all in the same hotel, which meant that they could share a room all five nights. Charles and Y/N didn't even bother on settling down in their rooms, knowing that they weren't spending a second there, instead, they took their suitcases to Max's room and then plopped down on the bed. Max was still acting weird, he barely let them cuddle him on the plane, didn't ramble about anything and then just went straight to the shower, taking his sweet time there. Charles, even though he had been close to Max for less time, also picked up on his strange behavior. They knew that Max was allowed to have bad days and be moody, but these episodes were different from being moody. He looked sad, like the spark he usually had suddenly lacked power. The two talked about it, wondering what could have happened and how to bring up the subject to Max without scaring him off. The last thing they wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable or pressured to open up about something he wasn't ready. Once he walked out of the bathroom, completely dressed to bed, they made themselves comfortable and drifted off.

"You look stunning today, Y/N". Max heard one of the reporters say while they were all on the media pan. Max suppressed an eye-roll, she always looked great and someone always had to point it out. He was a little jealous, but the fact that he had felt particularly bad about himself the last few days didn't help.

"Thank you". She said with a tight grin, she wasn't a fan of physical compliments, she would rather people calling her a good driver instead. The reporter proceeded with his question about her good Qualifying that afternoon and she then gave him a complete answer with her feedback about the track and the car. He watched her talk, the way her hands moved as she explained something, her lips that did the best they could as she struggled with her pronunciation and how her nose scrunched when she talked about the least things she liked about the track.

"Max". He turned around to look at Charles, the Monegasque discreetly leading him to an empty room when the media pan was over. "Are you alright, babe?".

"Yeah, sure". He tried to play it cool, but the concerned look on Charles' eyes was making it really hard.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't looked fine for a few days now". Max knew what he meant, he knew that Charles was talking about his mood, but Max couldn't help but associate Charles' words to his body."I know I don't look fine, I'll do better". He walked out of the room, leaving Charles even more confused than before.

Austin went terribly for Charles and Y/N, both of them ending up disqualified after the race, the Ferrari driver losing a P6 and the Mercedes a podium. Max had won and still he didn't feel any better, so the mood back in the room wasn't the best. "Couples that get disqualified together, stay together" was the caption that their PR managers decided to use when they posted their joint post about the FIA's decision. Max looked at the picture over and over again, even sad they looked nice. Or maybe it was him that loved them so much that was unable to see a single defect in them. He didn't care, they were perfect in his eyes, and he wasn't good enough, no matter how much he could win. The next stop was Mexico and Max was already in a bad mood to also having to deal with Checo's fans. He got the chance to share his podium with Charles and Y/N there and that made everything a little bit better, but watching their pictures online, the three of them together was painful. And to top it, between Mexico and Brazil, Y/N trended on Twitter when a particularly good picture of her after the race "broke the internet". She was being called the most beautiful woman of motorsport, and it was all too much for Max.

Charles walked inside the room with his spare key, they were both at the same hotel in Brazil and Y/N staying just a block away, to find Max on the bed. His knees were all the way up to his chest and Charles could see that he was crying, thanks to the shaky movement of his back. With soft steps, he walked to the bed and sat down next to Max, placing his hand atop his shoulder and squeezing. The sob that the Dutchman let out broke Charles' heart in a million pieces. He quickly pulled out his phone and sent a short text to his girlfriend, requesting her presence, then he got into bed with Max, pulling him to his chest and letting him cry as much as he needed. Y/N arrived 20 minutes later, having to work her way through some PR duties before she could be free. Max was a lot more calm when she made it there, her two boyfriends resting on the bed, while Charles moved his hands up and down Max's back. The Ferrari driver looked up when he heard her walk in and they shared a look before she sat down at the other side of Max and ran her fingers through his blonde locks. She saw him let out a sigh and then a few more tears fell down his cheeks.

"Amor, what is it?". She spoke as gently as she could, not wanting to startle him. "Please, we want to help, Max".

"You can't. I'm the problem, not you". His voice was hoarse, the crying taking a toll on his throat.

"You're not a problem, Max. What are you saying?". Charles was almost offended at Max's comment, how could he call himself a problem when he was so darn amazing?

"Okay, we're not avoiding this anymore". She changed her tone from sweet to serious. "Both of you, sit up". They followed the order, Max resting his back against the headboard of the bed. "What's up with you?"

"Don't play dumb". Charles warned him after he saw Max was ready to straight up lie to them again. They waited patiently, and Max just looked around the room, feeling self-conscious. Their gazes were too intense and he couldn't take them.

"I've been feeling bad about myself". He whispered it, hoping that they wouldn't ask for him to repeat himself. They didn't.

"About your body?". Y/N placed a hand on his thigh as she asked the question, Max just nodded.

"But why? There's nothing wrong about you, Max". Charles made the comment so nonchalantly that Max almost laughed.

"Everything is wrong with my body!". He laughed bittersweetly as he said that, like he was amused by the fact that they didn't understand.

"Max, you're going to have to elaborate on that, because we can't see anything wrong with you". He could see that she was concerned, it wasn't just the tone of her voice, but also how hard she was pressing her hand against his tight.

"I'm ugly, so ugly. I don't even understand how you don't see it!". Charles was straight up horrified by the comment, Y/N kept a neutral face, she wanted to see where this was leading so she could fix it. "I'm fat and my face is not pretty or anything like that. Clothes don't fit me right and I look terrible in pictures".

"This stupid, you're saying stupid things". Charles couldn't believe what he was hearing and the string of French curses he let out after his comment just proved further that he was not agreeing with Max's perspective of himself. Y/N was more concerned about Max fat-shaming himself, as if gaining weight was something bad or even him getting fatter was true, considering he was a pretty fit guy. They had a long journey of self-love ahead.

"Charlie, you're not helping". She tried to calm him down, but Charles was angry.

"He's saying stupid stuff! How can he say that?!". Max stayed quiet. "Anyone would kill to be you, you're fucking perfect!".

"What?". That took Max by surprise. He had called them perfect for so much time that he felt the term foreign when it was directed towards himself.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Max". He turned to look at Y/N, she moved her hand from his leg to his face, running her thumb over his cheekbone. "We think you're amazing, perfect".

"But why? You're both so good-looking!". He couldn't believe it. "How could you think that of me looking like you guys do?"

"This is stupid". Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Looks like "stupid" is the word of the day". That made Max laugh softly, she smiled and shifted her position on the bed to sit on his lap. "I love your smile, I love it even more when it reaches your eyes because they look even better".

"You make it sound like he's doing it himself, it's easy for his eyes to look great when he has those eyes''. Charles was being actually useful with his angry comebacks.

"I also said that I love his smile".

"He has the whitest, most perfect teeth on Earth, you could turn off the lights and still find him if he smiles". Max smiled at that, looking at the frowning Charles that huffed and kept cursing in French. Y/N grabbed Max's face and made him look at her.

"We love you, Max. Not just the fact that you're an incredible person or a generational talent driving cars. I love looking at you and I love having sex with you". He blushed, she giggled. "I'm not sure where this idea of you being ugly came from, but I can assure you that you're extremely handsome and hot to me".

"Of course he is! Mon Dieu, thinking he's ugly... Simply stupid". (My God).

"He agrees". Max properly laughed this time. She kissed him, pressing herself against him to make him feel her heartbeat. They broke apart after a moment, both needing to breathe. "I know that getting those thoughts out of your head is not easy, but please, if you ever, ever think about yourself like that again, tell us. I promise you, we will prove you wrong".

"Really?".

"Yes, really. We love you, even when you talk stupid".

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Hope you guys like it!! Happy New Year everyone, and have a great 2024.

#charles leclerc imagine #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

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kimkaelyn · 4 months ago

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Under the Festival Lights [s. todoroki]

→ summary: when a mission wraps up earlier than expected, you and shouto take advantage of the unexpected but welcomed free time to enjoy the local festival.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ word count: 4.9k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, pro hero au, coworkers to lovers, female pronouns, usage of y/n, aged-up characters (early to mid-twenties), reader has a quirk (Heat Sight) and a hero name (Sunspot), brief appearance of child oc, reader down bad, sexual activity is hinted, Shouto may be ooc. | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ authors note: here is my contribution to the pretty boy summer collab hosted by the amazing @andypantsx3! ngl, writing this was pretty rough so I apologize if it is a little all over the place.

“Well, that was hard,” you mused sarcastically as you walked down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in your pockets. You paid no mind to the staggered gasps from the locals and indiscreetly raised phone cameras as you and your dual-haired companion made your way to the transportation terminal.

The two of you were dispatched to the island in response to a report of a foreign hiker who had fallen from a cliffside. The place he was in was too difficult for the local rescue team to reach, so they called for Pro Heroes to help—you and Shouto. Your Quirks were a good match for this mission; your Heat Sight could easily locate the hiker through his heat signature and Shouto’s Half-Cold Half-Hot could create a path to his location. You arrived at the island within an hour by catching a lift from a Coast Guard helicopter that was also responding to the call, however, when the two of you arrived, you were shocked yet relieved to find the hiker had managed to climb back up on his own. He was fine save for a few cuts and scratches.

“You are fortunate you didn’t sustain life-threatening injuries.” Shouto had advised the man as he was lifted into the helicopter to take him back to the mainland to be evaluated at a hospital, just to be safe.

Your companion hummed. “At least the man is safe.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Paperwork’s gonna be a breeze.” You would never say it aloud, but part of you was a little disappointed you didn’t get to see the handsome Pro at work—albeit you would be working too so you wouldn’t have much time to check him out.

Shouto didn’t comment further as the two of you continued on your trek.

“Sunspot! Shouto!” a voice suddenly called out. You turned to find a boy who could be no more than seven years old staring up at you with stars in his eyes and smiling the widest grin you think you have ever seen.

“Awe, hi buddy!” you greeted with a smile, immediately squatting down to be at eye level with the boy. “How are you?” You felt your heart squeeze when he began to giggle under your attention. He made a grabbing motion with his hands and you had about five seconds to spread your arms before he ran into your chest. “Oh my, you’re so strong!” you exclaimed with a faux wheeze as you felt his small arms squeeze around your midsection. You gently wrapped your arms around his tiny body, tucking him under your chin.

“My deepest apologies!” a new voice said. You looked up to the young woman you assumed to be the boy’s mother, the matching hair and eye color a dead giveaway. “Yuki doesn’t quite understand personal boundaries yet.”

You smiled, trying to ease her worries. “It’s alright, ma’am,” you assured her. “He’s fine. I don’t mind.” Shouto crouched beside the two of you but you didn’t take your eyes off the boy in your arms. He was so little; you were afraid he would break if you applied any more pressure.

You glanced sideways at the dual-haired Hero next to you. He was staring at you and the boy with a content-like expression on his face.

“Is everything okay, kid?” he asked Yuki. The boy leaned back to see who addressed him, and his eyes widened when he realized it was Pro Hero Shouto who was speaking to him.

“Shouto!” the boy cried, untangling from your arms and flinging himself towards the Pro, who easily caught him just as you had. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched the boy snuggle into his chest, like a baby koala hanging onto its mother.

You heard the mother’s breath hitch at the sight. Me too, girl, you thought as your heart squeezed painfully at how adorable the sight of Shouto embracing the child in his safe hold was as he softly conversed with the boy. “What is your name?”

“Yuki Fukumoto.”

Shouto smiled—not a full teeth smile, just a closed-lip one—at the boy and inclined his head to him. “It is nice to meet you, Yuki. My name is Shouto Todoroki and I am a Pro Hero.”

Yuki giggled enthusiastically. “I know that!” he exclaimed with glee, happiness dripping from his figure like drops from the sun. Instead of you being Sunspot, he should be. “You one of the Tops!”

You hid your snicker behind a hand, basking in the dumbfounded look on Shouto’s face. “Really? Wow, you really do know your Pros, then.” You know he was merely indulging the child, but it still did things to your heart. The boy nodded in affirmation and snuggled deeper into Shouto’s chest.

“Are you here for the festival, Sunspot?” the boy's mother inquired, drawing your attention from the heart-attack-inducing scene before you.

“The festival?” you echoed, your brows turning downward with confusion. “No, ma’am. Shouto and I were dispatched here for a rescue operation but the man was successfully retrieved before we arrived.”

She nodded her understanding. “So that is what the Coast Guard chopper was for.” She muttered, briefly glancing over to Yuki and Shouto, who were discussing the latter’s apprehension of a wanted fugitive a few weeks back. She turned back to you with a smile. “Praise you Heroes for always rushing to the scene, no matter where it is! It must’ve been a bumpy ride.”

You bashfully returned her smile. “You mentioned there is a festival happening?”

“Oh, yes! The island’s annual summer festival is today.” She said, her demeanor brightening as she spoke. “It is a lovely event! Yuki and I were actually on our way there before we ran into you guys.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, ma’am, I am so sorry for holding you up!” you quickly apologized with a bow. You felt your face start to burn as anxiety and embarrassment rose within. You began to step towards Shouto with the intention of yanking him up by his collar and rushing the two of you out of there as fast as possible but the sound of Yuki’s mother’s laughter stopped you.

“Sunspot, I assure you it’s all right.” She raised a hand over her mouth, attempting to quell her laughter. “Besides, it isn’t often we have Pro Heroes on the island, so this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Yuki to meet two of his favorite Heroes.”

Your eyebrow quirked. “Are we the first Heroes he has seen?” you inquired.

“Yes. In-person, at least.” Upon hearing that, you got an idea.

“Ma’am, I don’t want to keep you from your established plans any longer, but would it be all right if we took a quick picture with Yuki before you go?” Shouto directed his attention to the boy's mother at your question, who eagerly nodded her head. With a smile, you crouched in front of Yuki and your partner. “Yuki, would you like to take a photo with us?” At your question, a smile that could rival the sun took over his features once more as the three of you looked to the camera and posed.

“Thank you so much.” Yuki’s mother said, bowing deeply. “Yuki, dear, what do you say to the Heroes?” She prompted her son with a gentle hand on his back.

“Thank you!” the boy said, his eyes sparkling as he excitedly waved goodbye to you and Shouto as his mother led him away.

“He’s so cute!” you exclaimed to your partner as you watched the mother and son disappear around a street corner.

“He was,” Shouto agreed.

“Perhaps his mom will post the photo on social media and we can share it on our pages.” You smiled in excitement, silently hoping you would see the photo on your timeline tonight during your routine browsing while curled up in the warmth of your bed before you drifted off to dreamland.

Your dual-haired companion hummed in either agreement or acknowledgment, you couldn’t tell which. “We should be on our way to the airport now, Sunspot.” Shouto intoned matter of factly. “Our mission wrapped up over an hour ago. We wouldn’t want to keep the pilots waiting longer than necessary.” He said, referring to the pilots for your flight back to the mainland.

“No, we don’t,” you answered with a sigh. So much for checking out the Festival, you thought gloomily. “Alright, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, but WHAT?!” you exclaimed, mouth open in disbelief.

The check-in desk attendant gave you a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and that’s when you felt the subtle annoyance radiating from her. “I’m sorry, but all outgoing flights, both on planes and helicopters, are grounded for the night due to a sudden and fast-developing storm system in the Bay.”

“What about the ferry?” Shouto asked. He was standing beside you, five times more level-headed than you were at the moment. “A ferry runs twice a day to and from the mainland.”

“You are correct, Shouto, about the scheduled ferry,” the attendant said, barely holding back the bite of her words. “But no boats are coming in either. The surf is too rough.” She eyed the two of you as she paused to take a sip of coffee. “With all due respect, no sane Captain would sail out in those conditions; Hero or not.” A smirk grew on her lips, her eyes lighting up as she continued. “If you are so desperate to return to the mainland by tonight, I suggest you two should contact your ‘friends’. Perhaps Endeavor or All Might can send somebody to pick you up.” That said, she harshly pulled down the window blinds, ending the conversation. The metallic clatter echoed ominously through the terminal lobby—emphasizing the finality of her actions and the reality of your situation.

The two of you stood there in shocked silence for a moment before Shouto released a heavy sigh and massaged his temples.

“Who spit in her coffee,” you grumbled under your breath as you crossed your arms. “That was such a low blow—what she said.” When your dual-haired companion didn’t immediately reply, you turned to check on him. He was staring off into space, a hand positioned on his chin as he seemingly pondered the next course of action for the two of you. If he was irked by the attendant’s comment about the ex-Flame Hero, he hid it well.

“Hey,” your soft, reassuring voice brought him out of his thoughts. You placed a hand on his bicep—shoving down the excited twist of your stomach when his muscles tensed and bulged under your touch. “I’m sorry this whole day hasn’t gone according to plan but we shouldn’t stress over it.” You smiled softly. “Let’s look at the bright side; we have some time to R&R! We can explore the island, taste the local cuisine—have some time to ourselves to be civilians instead of Pro Heroes.”

Shouto stared at you in what could almost be controlled bewilderment as he thought over your proposition. You caught a glimmer in his heterochromatic eyes and knew he had made a decision. “Okay,” he agreed with a nod. “What should we do?” he questioned. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, Yuki’s mom mentioned there’s a festival in town today and said that we should check it out before we leave.” You explained. “It’s been so long since I’ve attended a summer festival and I think this will be a nice way to spend the evening.” You smiled as you thought back to your youth when you would spend every summer up until middle school at your grandma’s. She had a large backyard garden where she would grow vegetables such as cucumbers, edamame, and tomatoes to sell at the community market and the town’s yearly end-of-the-season festival. You fondly remember helping her load the wagon with the produce and walking to the market every morning at sunrise. While your grandma was selling her vegetables, you would run up and down the festival grounds with a few local children, playing games and stuffing your tiny faces with kakigori, takoyaki, and whatever other sweets you could get your hands on.

Shouto’s voice brought you back to the present. “I have never been to a summer festival before.” He stated nonchalantly. “I would like to attend my first one with you tonight.”

Your eyes widened and you felt warmth rush to your face at his words. “O-okay,” you stuttered. “Awesome!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s get going, then!”

Ten minutes later, you and Shouto were back walking around the streets of the quaint island town. Once again the locals and tourists gawked at the two of you as you made your way to the festival grounds, but no one approached. You and Shouto made small talk on your way, discussing the fast-approaching Hero Gala next month.

“I met with my designer last week, but for the life of me, I cannot decide what color I want to wear—let alone what dress!” you groused, hands wildly moving about as you explained your dilemma to your partner. “I am running out of time and that doesn’t aid in my decision-making. Deadlines just make me want to procrastinate more.”

Shouto hummed. “I wear the same suit with a different tie and undershirt,” he glanced at you. “Why do you not do the same with a dress?” His dry tone made him sound condescending to those who didn’t know the dual-haired Pro Hero as well as you do, but you knew he was making a genuine inquiry.

You laughed. “I guess I could do that, but we women are under different expectations than you men. If I were to do that, the press would call me lazy and unmotivated.” You shrugged. “Believe me, if the press's opinion didn’t matter so much in our line of work, I would wear whatever the hell I wanted to the Gala.”

The corners of your partner’s mouth tilted upwards at your statement, but it only lasted a moment. “If you are having difficulty choosing a color then perhaps you should wear the same color as me,” he suggested. “We can match.”

“Really?” you asked, taken aback. “Wouldn’t that be kinda weird?”

“I do not see how it could be seen as unusual for us to do so. We work at the same Agency and are partners.”

I can see the logic behind that, you thought. But people would think we are a couple. The two of you moved to the side to let an elderly couple walk by undisturbed. “Thank you,” the man tipped his hat. You smiled and nodded your head, watching as he and his wife continued on their way. You cleared your throat when you and Shouto were side-by-side again. “Well, what color are you wearing this year?”

“Blue,” he responded without pause. “I think this specific shade would look ravishing on you, Y/N. It will bring out the color of your eyes.”

“R-really?” you inquired, breath hitching. You were shocked by Shouto’s forwardness. Where did the reserved boy you had known go? Though you weren’t necessarily complaining. “You think so?”

The dual-haired boy nodded again. “I do.”

Before you could reply, the two of you rounded a corner and found yourselves at the festival grounds. Your attention was immediately snagged by the atmosphere; the sounds of children laughing as they ran around with their small kites and ribbons, the smell of takoyaki fresh off the griddle, and the taste of happiness in the air. Your brain was going into overdrive, rapidly taking in your surroundings.

There were so many different stalls and food being served that you didn’t know where to begin. As if the gods could sense your pause, suddenly the most mouthwatering scent hit your nostrils. You spun on your heel, searching for the source—there! The delicious scent emitted from a small stall, operated by a gentle-looking older man and tucked into the corner of the grounds almost out of sight. You quickly made your way over, forgetting Shouto in your haste.

As you approached, you caught sight of the source of the scent; choco-banana. You must’ve had the stars shining in your eyes as you gazed at the treats because the man chuckled when you caught his eye.

“Why, hello there, young miss.” He greeted. “Would you like some choco-banana?” He was already placing a couple on a plate before you could respond.

“Thank you,” you said as you took the offered plate. You reached a hand towards where your purse would usually be at your side and gasped when you felt nothing but air. Your eyes widened and your heart sank as you remembered you were still in your Hero costume and your purse was miles away back at the agency building. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

You were interrupted by an arm appearing in front of you, money in hand. You blinked and turned to find Shouto standing there. “Is this enough for two plates, sir?” he asked.

The stall worker eagerly nodded. “Sir, this is more than enough. Just wait a second while I get your change.” Shouto’s raised hand stopped him.

“Keep the change.” He said, picking up his own plate of choco-banana—when did he get that?—and leading you away from the stand towards a group of picnic tables.

“Thank you, Shouto,” you said as you sat down. “That was very kind.”

Your dual-haired partner met your eye, his stare holding the same intensity as always. “There is no need to thank me,” he told you. “If I did not want to pay, I wouldn’t have.”

You gaped at him. “That’s not what I meant—” your words caught in your throat when you saw the corner of his mouth lift into a smile for the second time that day. This little—

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he reassured you. “This is my treat.”

You looked away, no longer able to hold that dreamy, intense gaze of his. “Fine,” you grumbled. “But let me pay next time.” He gave you a look that screamed ‘in your dreams’ but you let it drop for now.

The two of you finished your choco-banana in silence, contently observing your surroundings. You spotted a couple steal a kiss under the cover of darkness provided by an alleyway and watched as a group of children kicked a football around.

Shouto threw away your empty plate for you. When he returned, he asked; “Now what?”

Before you could respond, a loud shriek cut through the evening air. You and Shouto stiffened, immediately on high alert for an attack. Your hands clenched at your sides as you scanned the area for the source of the sound and any indication of an attack. You turned to face the alleyway where the couple were, but they were gone. You and Shouto were back-to-back, scanning the area when suddenly, the group of children who were playing football came rushing towards you, giggling loudly.

“Sunspot! Shouto!” a boy leading the charge hollered as they reached you; about seven to eight children. Where are their parents, you wondered. Shouto turned to stand at your side as the kids came to a stop.

“What is it?” he asked. “Is there danger nearby?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his heterochromatic eyes narrow as he awaited a response.

A girl, no more than five, clasped her tiny hands together and stepped forward. She looked at the ground as she spoke, afraid to meet the eyes of two Pro Heroes. “We wan’ yous to play wit’ wus!” she announced.

You bent over, placing your hands on your knees, and looked at the children. “Were you guys the source of the scream we heard a few moments ago?” you softly inquired. The children looked at each other, silently exchanging words before nodding. “Why did you scream?” you questioned.

Another girl stepped forward. She had ribbons in her hair, holding the locks up in matching pigtails. “We wanted to get your attention.” She confessed, looking apologetic. “You didn’t look busy so we thought it would be okay if you guys played with us for a while.”

You sighed and glanced at your partner, gauging his expression before turning back to the children. Shouto addressed the children next. “That was not smart of you, children.” You gaped at him, not expecting him to be so blunt but at the same time, you weren’t surprised. This was Shouto, after all. “You should only scream when you are in danger. Do you understand?” The children nodded. “Now then, what game do you want to play?”

You quickly lost track of time as you and Shouto were dragged around the festival by the children, playing various stall games such as ring tosses and goldfish catching and playing football and catch with others. As the night went on, you had gathered a small army of the local children who followed your every move. You didn’t mind, used to the crowds that typically surrounded you when you went out in public wearing your Hero costume, but this was different—almost special in a way.

You were creating core memories for these children, and that fact warmed your heart. In the years following the War, everyone had worked hard to earn back the public’s faith in Heroes and you were witnessing the fruit of your labor right here in front of you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun, running around carefree; as if nothing in the world mattered besides this moment. You almost envied the children for their carefreeness—their innocence—that hadn’t been upturned by the evils of the world. As you watched Shouto play a quick game of football with some of the boys—basking in the cheers and laughter of the youth—you silently vowed that you would do everything in your power, even at the cost of your life, to preserve these children’s innocence.

Eventually, the night got darker and your playful bliss had to come to an end. Parents began to call for their children, and one by one, they left after wrapping you and Shouto in the biggest hugs.

Eventually, only one child remained; the little girl with the pigtails, who you learned is named Mai. She looked up at you with bright, brown eyes full of curiosity and joy. “Are you staying for the fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” you inquired. “I did not know there were fireworks tonight.”

“Neither did I,” Shouto intoned, his voice low.

Mai smiled widely as if she just revealed the secret of the universe to you. “Mm-hmm!” she nodded. “At the end of every festival, fireworks are released into the air! They go BOOM!” She shot her hands outward, mimicking the exploding gunpowder. “It is my favorite part of the festivals! Do you like fireworks, Sunspot?”

You crouched, preferring to be at eye level of children when speaking to them. “Of course I do.” You told her. “Where do you go to watch the fireworks, hun? Do you have a favorite spot where you watch them from?”

“Yup!” she exclaimed, popping the ‘p’. “Usually we all gather on boats offshore to watch them, but we can’t do that because of the storm, so most people are just going to stay in the grounds and watch them. But—” She turned and pointed towards the outskirts of town, where a hill was just barely visible over the buildings. “I also like to go to the top of that hill and watch them!”

You observed the hill. It does look like the best spot if you want a good view, you thought.

“What is the best route to the hill, Miss Mai?” Shouto asked the girl.

Mai giggled, probably due to being asked a question by the No. 1 Hero, holding a hand to her mouth before she gave the two of you directions.

Shouto obtained a pastel blue lawn blanket from a vendor as the two of you made your way out of the festival grounds toward the hill. You picked a spot at the summit, away from others, and Shouto gracefully laid the blanket down where you had pointed. He waited for you to get situated before sitting down himself.

There was a gentle breeze blowing through the air. Down below, the cheers and excited mumblings from adults and children alike slowly filtered up to you and Shouto.

“This was great.” You suddenly announced after several minutes of silence. Shouto turned towards you, silently imploring you to elaborate. “Being able to spend this time with you as regular members of society enjoying a summer festival.” You gazed over to your partner, taking in his facial features—carefully blank, as usual, but there was a hint of something in his eyes but you couldn’t catch exactly what. Your breath hitched when you realized just how radiant he looked in the little light from the town that managed to reach him. “Thank you, Shouto.” For what, you are not sure, but it felt right at the moment.

He started at you for several moments, seemingly processing you and your words. As the minutes passed and his intense gaze remained fixated on you, the more anxious you got. Did I say the wrong thing, you wondered, stomach dropping. Was that the wrong thing to say?

You looked away, breaking the staring contest. “S-sorry.” You stuttered out, embarrassed.

“No.” Shouto suddenly said, surprising you. You hadn’t expected him to say anything, let alone that. You began to turn your head back towards him, but two fingers on your chin brought you eye-to-eye before you could yourself. You stared wide-eyed at the dual-haired man holding your chin. “Do not apologize, Y/N,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He leaned in. “In fact, I should be the one apologizing—for keeping things to myself.” He continued before you could question him. “I share your sentiments, Y/N. I feel the same way and more about tonight and this time I have shared with you.”

You gapped at him, unable to form words for a moment as you processed his words. Oh my gosh, is he confessing to me right now? “You do?” you eventually gasped out, voice nearly a whisper. This was happening so fast—

“I do,” Shouto confirmed. He inhaled as if in preparation for what he was going to say next. “I have thoroughly enjoyed every second I have spent with you since you became my partner several months ago. I was a fool to not properly identify the emotions I feel whenever I am with you—whenever I think of you—until tonight.” You had stopped breathing sometime during his speech, unable to take in air as you held onto every word that exited that beautiful mouth of his. His hands cupped your face, his eyes admiring every part of your features. “Please forgive me, love, for taking so long to confess, but I am here now, doing so.”

You felt like your heart was about to beat outside your chest as he spoke, mind fogging as you stared at his perfect, plump lips as they moved to form the words of his confession. The two of you stared at each other for several more moments. You mindlessly wondered if you were dreaming.

Shouto chuckled. He ran a hand through your hair, captivated by the way his hand moved through the locks. “You are not,” he softly told you. “This is real.” Your cheeks warmed when you realized you had asked that out loud. “Now, can I kiss you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you brought him in for a kiss. The moment your lips connected, a loud BOOM exploded in the sky accompanied by bright red and blue light. The two of you broke the kiss to look up, gazing at the fireworks. You smiled when you realized the two of you had just shared your first kiss, and you did indeed see fireworks when your lips touched. You turned back to Shouto, and by his smirk, you knew he had thought the same thing.

You laughed before bringing him into another kiss.

Fin.

BONUS SCENE:

You felt like you were on cloud nine as the two of you walked along the streets, hand in hand. There was no specific destination in mind; the two of you enjoying the other’s company and this time together. For several hours, the two of you forgot about your Pro Hero duties and the stress and demands of your careers. Neither of you agonized over the report you would have to draw up when you returned to the mainland. If there was a Heaven on Earth, this evening you shared with Shouto was it.

“Let’s purchase a room for the night.”

You hadn’t registered Shouto had spoken right away, too caught up in admiring the neon lights that lit up the front of some restaurants and bars. It took a total of five seconds for your brain to comprehend the words he had spoken, and when it did, the bliss you had felt since your kiss up on the hill came to a sudden, screeching halt as you froze in your tracks.

“W-what!??!!” you exclaimed with a shriek, whipping your head around to the dual-haired male. You rapidly blinked, ensuring you were still awake and not having some crazy dream. “W-why would we do th-that?”

Shouto gave you a puzzled look. “To sleep in, of course.” He stated, tone dead-serious and leaving no room for argument. “What other reason are there for staying in an inn for the night?”

You felt your cheeks heat with amusement and embarrassment as you chuckled nervously. “Never mind!” you chirped. “Let’s go find that room so we can get some sleep.”

You did not, in fact, get any sleep that night.

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

#prettyboysummercollab #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #shoto x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki x you #fic: under the festival lights

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spacedace · 1 year ago

Text

Here have another dc x dp Super Serious Chaos snippet I remembered about lol

As always feel free to take this as a (too long) prompt if anyone is interested 😄

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Ghosts and Kryptonians, as it turned out, had a bit of overlap when it came to biology.

Not much, admittedly, considering that ghost biology was largely…made up, as best as any of the League’s medical staff could figure and as best as the Yetis could explain. They were usually human shaped - at least those that had been human in life were usually human shaped - but they were made entirely out of ectoplasm, a highly mutable substance that could appear incredibly unpredictable in how it behaved if you weren’t intimately familiar with how it worked. A ghost’s biology, as much as it could be called, depended entirely on the ghost, what they thought their biology should be and how they felt at any given point of time.

Still, there were some things that were more or less standard that were familiar enough. Super strength and speed, heightened senses, flight. Fangs too, though those tend to vary a great deal more in size when it came to ghosts compared to Kryptonians. Most interesting of all though - at least as far as Jon was concerned at the moment - was the fact that like Kryptonians, ghosts could purr.

And they used their purring in much the same way as Kryptonians. Self-soothing, encouraging healing, expressing happiness or - as the case might be in the here and now - bonding.

That’s what Danny had said was the point of this purring when he’d shown up and taken stock of the situation. Elle, out of her mind on some weird strain of supernatural flower thanks to some demon deciding to try and drug her into compliance and marry her - gross, Jon was glad it had been torn to shreds, he was kinda disappointed he didn’t get to help really - was reduced entirely to very basic ghostly instincts. She’d lost human speech, lost understanding of the world around her, and lost grip on who she was. Something that could have been incredibly dangerous - and had been for the dumbass demon that had orchestrated the whole scheme, Elle had eviscerated it with a viciousness that threatened to awaken something in him if he thought about it too much - though thankfully for them Elle had some semblance of recognition of who they were.

Well. Some of them, at least.

She’d very much had not seemed aware of who most of the Justice League members that responded to the situation were and had been just as intent on doing to them what she’d done to the demon. Jon and Damian were for sure going to get a lecture later on it, but them jumping in between their out of control friend and the others had been the right call. They knew how she fought better than anyone, knew how to counter her without hurting her and how to use her own overwhelming strength and power against her if need be.

Besides, they knew Elle.

They trusted her. Even as she lost semblance of her form and started looking more like…well okay Jon couldn’t really say what Elle looked like at the time. Damian called it eldritch and Jon can’t help but agree that it was the right word for it. Looking at her straight on for too long while she’d been in attack mode hurt and his brain sort of just…slid off any attempts to describe just what he was seeing when he looked at her. So eldritch seemed the right fit, even if he felt a bit bad having to describe her as such. Elle hated Lovecraft with a fiery passion, she’d despise knowing that anything associated with him was applied to her.

Jon was getting distracted. The point was, even if Elle was reduced to base ghostly instincts and acting aggressive and trying to eat Green Lantern, Jon and D knew that she’d never hurt them. And for the record they’d been right!

She’d frozen in the air as they dove in front of GL and into her line of sight, furious screeching going quiet and form settling back down into a more familiar - and comprehensible - shape and let loose a series of chirps and trills and whistling notes. And while no one could understand exactly what they meant, Jon and Damian could feel the emotions she put into the sounds. Happiness and relief and safe-safe-safe that made them realize that some of her aggression must have been from thinking that something had happened to them.

The next thing either of them had known they were wrapped up in a whole lot of Elle - body significantly more human-shaped, though still a bit indistinct when it came to her features - as she gave low rumbling purrs. She wouldn’t let anyone else near them - hissing and growling warningly in ways that made ears bleed when his dad and Bruce tried to creep closer, pulling him and D behind her protectively - but she was at least content to not attack anyone so long as no one got too close.

“It should wear off in about a week.” Danny said, butting his head like a cat against Elle’s as he checked on them. Elle recognized her father as she had Jon and Damian and had been fine letting him close, though notable did not try and pull him in on their impromptu cuddle session. “Probably less if we can get her back to her Lair in the Zone. Having outsiders near her Grave after fighting off an enemy is probably making things worse.”

Danny drifted back towards where the League was awkwardly huddled at a safe distance, giving a comforting trill when Elle’s purring stopped and she gave a nervous little chirp. She clung to Jon and Damian a little tighter from where she’d wrapped her wispy tail around them, glowing green eyes locked on the League suspiciously, but she stayed where she was. Jon purred himself, trying to match the low frequency she’d been using earlier to draw her attention back to them and keep her calm. Damian, unable to purr but undeterred by the limitation of human vocal chords, hummed softly as well. Elle gave an adorable little mrrp and pulled them even closer to her, nuzzling beneath each of their chins in turn, purr starting back up again.

“I was under the impression Phantasma wasn’t dead in the…traditional way.” Jon’s dad said, face pinching in concern. “Or that her grave would be near…” He motioned to the dark cave around them, lit only by literal hellfire in shades of red and orange. They were roughly a fifty miles from any kind of civilization, in some mountainous location in Europe. Possibly Finland? Jon hadn’t been paying much attention outside of following Elle’s distress beacon as quickly as possible without the wind speed suffocating Damian in the process.

Danny shook his head. “Oh she’s not. She’s Mirrorborn.” He waved a hand blandly, unaware or ignoring the League’s confusion at the term, “I don’t mean that kind of grave. I mean her Grave, capital ‘G’ and all. It’s like, hmm,” He paused, looking considering before offering, “I guess the closest thing might be like a pack? Like wolves, sorta. She’s in my Grave, since I’m her Reflected.” Danny motioned towards where Elle was now happily purring again, running her very sharp - and disturbingly longer than usual - clawed fingers through his and Damian’s hair. It was soothing, even with the vague notion that he should be worried about getting sliced to bits lazily popping up at the back of Jon’s mind. “But she’s old enough to go out and make a Grave of her own, and she’s claimed those two as part of it.”

“Claimed?” Bruce asked, voice lower than usual and definitely more dangerous. He hadn’t looked away from them the entire time, even when Danny showed up.

The older ghost gave a reassuring smile, “It sounds way more possessive than it is. It just means that her Core recognizes them as people she cares about a lot.” He glanced over towards them again expression going soft and fond. “The claiming is less a mark of ownership and more of like a ‘Back off’ sign for anyone who might try and fuck with them.”

Danny waved a hand in their direction again, “It’s what she’s doing now with all the cuddling. There was danger and she couldn’t find her Grave, so she panicked and lashed out. When they showed up she went into protection mode, it’s why she won’t let you near.” He glanced over to make sure the League understood, at their various nods he continued, “The cuddling is partially letting her know their safe, but it’s also making sure they’re absolutely covered with her ecto-signature so that anything that can sense it thinks twice before trying to go after them.” Danny’s grin went cheeky, “She’s basically giving them the Infinite Realm’s version of Scary Dog privileges. There’s not much in the Zone that’d be willing to fuck with the Grave of someone in our family.”

“Hn.” Bruce said, though Jon could see that some of the sharpness had left the line of his shoulders. “She doesn’t recognize us as members of her Grave?”

Danny shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. She likes you guys a lot - you’d probably be dead right now if she didn’t, even with those two keeping her calm - but there’s a difference from being friends with someone and having them as part of your Grave.”

No one looked terribly reassured.

Possibly due to the implication that Elle could kill them all more than the idea that she’d try while in such an altered state. And probably Jon should be worried about that too, but it wasn’t all that much of a surprise, really. He’d seen Elle beat Damian at Go before. They were usually tied 50/50 these days. If she could do that, there really was no hope for the Justice League - even his Dad, though he probably shouldn’t say that out loud.

Oh well. Point was, Damian absolutely could destroy the entire Justice League - Kryptonians and all - probably without even lifting a finger if he really put his mind to it and Elle was just as brilliant when it came to wily plays and unbeatable strategies and overwhelming force.

Okay so he might, a little bit, be totally in love with the both of them and believe they were the single most impressive and unstoppable people in the universe. That had no baring on his estimation on their abilities to take over the world if they ever decided they wanted to. It did, admittedly, probably skew his thoughts on if they ever would try their hands at world domination, but only a little.

Anyway he was 95% certain he could convince them to knock it off before they actually launched any world domination plans.

99% if he had time to get Ma to make cinnamon rolls before he went to talk them down.

Not the point, really. The point, right now, was that Elle had made him and D part of her Grave. That she cared for them enough that not even being reduced to her most dangerous, aggressive state, almost completely unable to distinguish friend from foe, was enough to keep her from knowing who they were.

(J’onn J’onzz - scanning the emotions and surface thoughts of the three young heroes to make sure no one was in danger or distress - would like to note to the young man that that was also not the point.

He had the distinct feeling, however, that any attempt to bring that up would go entirely over the young Kryptonian’s head.)

“So!” Danny said clapping his hands together decisively as he flashed a wide grin at Jon's dad and Bruce, “Who wants to pack these two some bags while I get them all moved to Ellie’s Lair?”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #jon kent #jon el kent #jon lane kent #damian wayne #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #justice league #bruce wayne #clark kent #danny fenton #ghost king danny #j'onn j'onzz #slightly eldritch Elle Phantom #super serious chaos #Ghosts Purr #Kryptonians Purr #Damian can't purr but he's not gonna let that stop him #Justice League watching slightly eldritch Elle fuss over Jon & Damian: 👀#Danny - trying to be reassuring: Don't worry if she wanted to violently murder you she totally would have already! 😀#Jon: I would never say that Damian & Elle are incredibly dangerous & could bend the world to their will & I'm scared of that #Jon: Damian & Elle are incredible dangerous & could bend the world to their will & I love that SO MUCH about them #Jon: *heart eyes and dreaming sighing*#J'onn just looks at Clark and the people he's in love with (Lois & Bruce most notably): yeah this tracks #Bruce: *stares into the middle distance as he realizes that at this rate King Phantom is going to be his in-law before the month is out*#Clark: You can't fake your death to avoid it I'd come find you #Bruce: *disgruntled bat noises*

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hyunsibae · 1 month ago

Text

Needy

Bang Chan x reader

Notes: smut is not my strongest suit but I just wanted to rock this one through!! 😼

• Warnings: 18+ Content and plenty of swearing.

You’ve had enough, yes you have. He’s so busy with work, day and night to the point where you get nooooo time with him. The only time you get with him is sleeping or eating, even then he’s so worried about taking work calls.

You get it, he has to take responsibility and keep up with the company he founded. But seriously? There’s no way he could fathom the idea of you in bed, fucking yourself with some half decent dildo. One that could barely compare to his teasing and size, the way he hushed your every noise if it gets too loud.

It seems that now he’s more irritated and annoyed whenever you come around. That’s simply because your sole purpose is to make him pay for leaving you alone for so long, it was never like this, so why does it have to be now? He’s gonna pay, you swear to it, if not pay, you’ll at least end this night with a fuck. (You haven’t been this dry since your ex, trust, he’s never fulfilled you the way Chan does.)

Your reasoning may be ridiculous but no girl would want to be in this position, this has to be stopped. You stormed inside of his office, whining as soon as you entered. “Channnnnnn, when are you gonna be done? You’ve been at this all day now.”

“I’ll be done in a minute, why?”

“Because I miss you soooo much.” You smiled, stepping over to his desk with a sly grin.

“I don’t buy it, what do ya’ want from me.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re working all the time and you aren’t spending time me-“

He sighed, this isn’t the first time you’ve barged into his office with complaints. Day after day, you come in here and just disturb his work. Messing with him, the keyboard, and all his important papers. Claiming he’s not spending enough time with you, knowing damn well he just took you out to see the latest movie released . “No, no, no. Yes I am, we’ve talked about this, just because I spend three hours in the office, doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Okay maybe you did lie, maybe you are dramatic. Maybe you are dragging him out of the office everyday to either go out to do something fun or take him to pound town (you plan to do it right now, heh…)

But in your defense, he’s extremely handsome, talented, and the most amazing boyfriend ever! You need him all day, every day, no exceptions. “What can I say? I just can’t get enough of you.” You poked out your lips.

He couldn’t help but smile, you were so fucking cute like this. Missing him every five seconds, he could never get tired of it. “Fine, let’s go.”

“Oh? That was easy, hehe.” Usually you’d have to beg him on your knees, literally, sometimes it wouldn’t work and sometimes it would. Either way, you’ve got him now, guiding you to the back where your shared bed room would be.

“On the bed, all the way up there.” You bit your lip with excitement, watching as he removed his tie, the skin on his neck absolutely gracing your eyesight. “Why are you so hot? Gosh I swear..”

“And why are you adorable.” Chan kneels between your legs, Finger tips swiping across the beginning of your tights, pinching both those and your panties before sliding them down, and somewhere on the floor. He leans in to press open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, his warm breath sending shivers through you.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his gaze roaming over the glaze of wetness all long your folds. Mouth watering at the sight, needing to taste that oh, so sensitive clit of yours.

His fingers finding and circling your clit, "You're already so wet for me, aren't you?” Slowly, he works his way up to fuller strokes, applying steady pressure and varying speeds to examine your reactions. You don’t just react, you don’t even think, you go blank. It’s like you no longer have a mind of your own. How could he switch you up so easily, from needy to satisfied. Let’s be honest though, you could never get enough of him, your words. Chan makes you feel things that you’ll thirst over forever.

His other hand comes to rest lightly on your lower abdomen, holding you still as he coaxes you closer to the edge.

The sharp gasp that escapes your lips when his fingers made contact with your slick folds is there as proof. You whispered breathlessly, nothing but nonsense, there’s no more in which you could have said. Eyes fluttering shut in pleasure, the tension in your body began to build as his fingers danced across your sensitive inner walls.

As you grow more desperate beneath his touch, Chan increases the intensity of his movements, determined to push you over the maximum limit. “Don't stop, fuuck… please don't stop~.” You pleaded. Feeling his fingers plunge deeper, curling to stroke that sensitive spot within your core.

"Come on, give in to it," he urges, his voice a husky whisper. "Let go, I've got you." Chan's thumb applies firm pressure to your clit, rubbing in time with the thrusts of his fingers. The combination proves too much, and with a sharp cry, your body seizes up, trembling through a powerful orgasm.

"That's it, let it out," Chan soothes, continuing to work you through the aftershocks. He withdraws his fingers from your heat and rises to his knees. “You did so well, baby. Such a good girl f’me."

That’s it? That’s all? You get he has, everyone gets it, but he can’t just leave you hanging there.

“I want more.”

He can’t say, he didn’t expect this, he definitely expected this. “You want- What? You want more?” He chuckles at your statement, no, it sounded more like a demand. You rose from your state, body not even close to being done with him. Meeting up to him with your knees, guiding him towards the headboard. Lightly him pushing back as you wrap your legs around his waist. Once you start, you don’t stop.

“You don’t plan to drain me do ya?”

“Mmm… I do.” You smiled slyly. his clothed erection sends shivers all throughout your body. With deft fingers, she tugs your pants down, freeing your cock from its trap. He smirked, trying not to laugh at you, usually you’re too shy to do anything like this. Most of the time Chan would have you begging, pleading, you love feeling like nothing but his little one. Like he could do whatever he wants with you, fuck, he still can.

In the moment, you’re feeling a little different. Positioning yourself above him, your slick heat hovering close to his throbbing erection. Letting him slowly make his way inside. You gasped, bracing you hands on his chest as you slowly sink down onto him inch by delicious inch.

A low moan escapes your parted lips as he stretches and fills you completely, thick length buried to the hilt inside your tight, wet heat. You froze, legs tensing up, why does he feel so big and can’t you ever get used to him? “We can stop if it’s too much," he suggested.

“Nuh uh.” You refused with a pant, savoring the sensation of being so thoroughly claimed by him once again. Gripping his shoulders for support, you begin to move, rolling your hips in a sensual rhythm as you ride him with increasing desire.

He watches you intently, fantasizing at the erotic sight of you riding him with such control. Each slow, deliberate roll of your hips sends waves of pleasure coursing through him, and he can't help but let out soft moans of appreciation.

"That's it, baby girl, just like that," he praises, his voice thick with held back noises that’d soon be let out. "You're doing so beautifully. Your body was made for this, taking me deep inside you." Breathing out sentences that came purely from lust and driven with deep emotions, he needed this.

Chan's hands roamed over your curves, caressing and encouraging as you set the pace. The way he completely folds at you during a timing like this has you wanting to take advantage of him. Lifting yourself almost completely off his shaft, just to see his face of betrayal. He gasps, his cock twitching in anticipation of being buried back inside your welcoming heat.

“Don’t play like that… c’mon please?” Oh, oh, you don’t know why, but that just turned you on. A new kink? Don’t mind if you do.

With not a thought in that single brain of yours, you go over the ledge of words. “No, beg.”

He thinks you’re crazy, but he also doesn’t refuse. There’s nothing in this world that’d make him say no to you. What babygirl wants is what babygirl gets. “What?”

“I said, beg. Did I stutter?” It makes him snicker at the way you tried to be so scary, the sassy only being cute in his eyes. You could’ve had him, honest, but not tonight. He purrs, his voice dripping with seductive amusement. "Alright then, if that's what you wish for..."

His hands find your hips again, gripping them firmly as he starts to rock up into you with shallow thrusts, forcing you to move, meeting your rolls halfway with each movement. The new angle has him hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pass, drawing breathy cries from your lips. “This isn’t- ahh~!”

"Please," he rasps, his words punctuated by panting breaths. "Please, let me fill you up. Let me feel your walls squeezing my cock, let me see you come apart.” You throw you head back with a sharp cry, inner muscles clenching involuntarily around his pistoning length as he hit that magical spot within you. “Oh God..” With both arms holding him close to you. You gasp once more, hips bucking wildly to meet his increasingly forceful thrusts.

Your vision begins to blur at the edges as the first wave crashes over you, inner walls spasming erratically around his cock. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy," he grits out, head thrown back. With a final, desperate thrust, Chan buries himself back to the hilt, his cock throbbing violently as he reaches his peak. Your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave, howl of pleasure echoing off the bedroom walls body squirming over top of him.

He laughs at you, you asked for this, yet look at how you unfold. Barely able to properly recover from a little fuck. “C’mere, lay with me.” He slides down, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. His fingers lingering on your heated cheeks.

He captures your lips, pouring all his all his energy into that single embrace of a kiss. As you slowly melt into him, he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close and savoring warmth from your body heat. Wanting nothing more than to stay just like this until the morning sunrise.

“Can we go again?” That sly voice of yours suggesting more.

“can’t you enough?” Chan groaned.

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