#some of these might be off but listen i literally just got out of school im tired- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 2 months ago

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Something Stupid - G.S.

Synopsis. Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends-to-lóvers, canon fix-it, PINING, dry-húmping, face-sítting (fem receiving), creampíe, overstím, PÚSSYDRUNK GOJO, ríding him until he whínes, no smút until they’re adults obvs, slight ángst, manga spoilers, found family, THE HAPPY ENDING WE DESERVE, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.6k

A/N. Tumby lemme post this pwease? What canon? This is the only canon I know.

“Catch me if you-”

Sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru doesn’t have the privilege of finishing his sentence - hell, he doesn’t even have the privilege of standing, apparently.

Because in the blink of an eye, his back is hitting the soft grass of Jujutsu Tech, followed very shortly by a bewildered you. Foreheads knocking together, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, his own wrapping around your waist for some sense of stability.

Years later, Gojo tells everyone that would listen - and anyone that won’t - that life became just a bit brighter ever since you crashed into his life that day - literally.

But right now, he’s opening his mouth to spit an irritated, “Watch it!”

It’s the first words you ever say to him, a shrill - almost hysterical - “Huh? No, you watch it-”

“Nuh uh, you-” Head spinning, shades skewed, it takes Gojo a few seconds to screw his bleary eyes open to the sudden newcomer straddled on top of him. And a few more to register that no, he wasn’t in heaven and hey, that uniform looks familiar. And, unfortunately, not even a split-second longer to breathe out something stupid, “I…I think I love y-”

“You stupid, moronic- wait what?”

The next few words out of his mouth are just as bad as the last ones, if not worse. Because yes he knows - for once in his life - that maybe he should just stop talking. He knows that even a moment longer with you is gonna turn his mind into more of a melty, honeyed mess than Six Eyes ever could.

Which is exactly what he blames when jumbling out a garbled, “Dinner tomorrow?” Wincing, Gojo swallows them back almost as quickly as he wished he was swallowed up by Geto’s rainbow dragon instead.

To your credit, you look a lot less bumbling than the strongest currently pinned underneath you. That look of annoyance on your pretty features melts into something of concern. And before he can dig a deeper hole for himself, you’re raising the back of your hand to splay out across his forehead.

“I didn’t think you hit the ground that hard but-” you raise a brow, head tilting to the side. “-I think you’ve got a concussion.”

Oh, yeah he’s definitely in heaven - that or actually concussed. Maybe both.

A low whistle sounds from his right - and soon enough he’s staring at the shoes of the other first-year he’d met just today. Low bangs hanging over his face, jostling with light cackles, “Haven’t they told you not to confess your undying love until at least the second date, Gojo?”

Nevermind, he was in hell.

“Ieri!” Geto turns towards the other girl, who was busy typing away on her phone. But Gojo could’ve sworn he heard the shutter of a camera coming from her way. “He was flown out of bounds, that’s gotta count as one point for me, right? And another for the pretty girl. You keepin’ score?”

She only sighs, “No.”

What’s a first day at high school without a duel between two of the proudly self-proclaimed strongest? And, of course, you - the fourth addition to their little group, hastily scrambling off of Gojo’s lap at the jeering laughter from above.

Dammit.

Later, he might apologize for running headfirst into you - might. Ignoring the pointed giggles, and the burning rouge at the very tip of his ears, to find out your name. And to make up some stilted excuse about how that was completely the concussion talking and he totally wasn’t serious about having dinner so please, please, please don’t snitch to Yaga about the impromptu matches taking place on school grounds…unless?

But for now, Gojo’s only lazily turning to look up at Geto, bringing a hand up to squint against the harsh sun beating down. Or, at least, that’s what it was meant to look like - “Technique amplification: Blue!”

He only hopes the property damage isn’t as high as what his poor heart had just gone through. Detention with Yaga be damned - and if by some grace of the universe he actually does end up escaping before he’s caught then, well, he’ll actually ask you out to dinner tomorrow.

---

Gojo Satoru is almost eighteen when he thinks that not even the Gojo family’s most expensive insurance will cover whatever curse you’ve casted on his poor heart.

You’re both well into the second year, and by now he’d been to twelve different doctors, five shamans, and Principal Yaga himself before Geto smacked him upside the head.

“Satoru, you complete imbecile-”

“Hey!” He fights out of his best friend’s grasp around the scruff of his uniform, crossing his arms over his chest with a whine, “I’ll have you know that I got the highest exam score last week, and I cheated only a little bit-”

Geto cuts him off with a sigh, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose, “No- you idiot. What do you mean you went to Yaga to girl-talk with him about your crush.” And when Gojo’s mouth falls slack, he’s smirking, “Oh- my bad, I meant your love-”

It’s said that Gojo’s gasp echoed all throughout the wooden corridors of the school - maybe even the entire grounds. Hotly, he’s sputtering out broken little excuses, “I don’t- what do you-” Before turning away to cool the burning of his sweetly rosy cheeks, “You’re the imbecile for spewing out such nonsense, Suguru.”

“Are you sure?” Geto turns to get a better look at the way those pretentiously expensive glasses fail to cover even the half of it. He’s never been able to, when it comes to you. “Because that’s quite literally the first thing you said to her-”

“I had a concussion!”

“After she touched you?”

And for perhaps the first time in the years he’s been wreaking havoc on Earth, Gojo is speechless. A welcome change for Geto, who mulls over in the silence while they loiter - very much missing whatever mission was assigned right now.

“I…” he starts, voice small. Pathetic, even. “...was concussed.” And before Geto can let out the same frustrated, dragged-out groan he often does whenever he’s around the two of you, Gojo’s plowing on, “But if I did lo- like her - hypothetically speaking - how would I even tell her?”

Usually, the other’s first reaction would be to tease his best friend. But at this moment he sounded so…young, painfully sincere in a way that was so disgustingly un-Gojo-like that he can’t help but cringe.

“Well, Satoru.” he muses, throwing a hand around his shoulder. “You just gotta…tell her my man. Preferably before that big mission coming up because I am not dragging your moping self around.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Gee, thanks. I’ll totally get on that tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome.”

BANG!

Yaga’s voice bellows, “Can you two stop doing this outside my office!”

And as much as Gojo hates to admit it, Geto was right - he usually was.

Well - perhaps not about the love part, but subconsciously, he found himself seeking out every tiny moment with you. Every second by your side - ignoring the other two bothers - was a new opportunity to just tell you. To break that thick solitude inside your little bubble with those little words. Ones that would go and spoil it all.

Not to be dramatic, but Gojo almost made a game out of it. Mouthing out the words whenever your back was turned - it started from “Dinner tomorrow?” to “I like you.” to something stupid that only gave Shoko aneurysms.

And, expectedly, “tomorrow” doesn’t happen to be tomorrow.

Tomorrow isn’t in your next class, or whatever mission Gojo tags along with you for “moral support.” Tomorrow isn’t the cozy little detention the two of you attend after catching Yaga’s interpretive dance routine - “that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen- even more than any curse.” you whisper fearfully to him, and he thinks he might just blurt it out right then and there.

Tomorrow isn’t when he’s just about to leave on some confidential mission with Geto, bidding you goodbye with a roll of his eyes and a hug he pretends he doesn’t like as much as he actually does. Tomorrow isn’t even when he’s baking in Okinawan sun, or strewn out bloodied and left for dead on the very grounds he met you on.

But oh how he wishes it was.

In that moment, incapacitated by Toji Fushiguro, and wondering where it went wrong, he thinks of you. Gojo thinks he’ll always remember you in every moment, and especially when they’re his last.

The Star Plasma Vessel mission and its aftermath takes up most of his mind afterward, even when he didn’t want it to. And all he can remember about tomorrow comes only a few months later, when an ashen-faced Gojo Satoru slams open the rickety door to your dorm.

“G-Gojo?” you sputter, sitting up in your bed. But before you can even think of reaching him, he’s crossed your floor in a few long strides. “Are you ok- mmpf!”

In an instant, he’s splaying out on your mattress, legs dangling off the end, strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Your first instinct is to snap something snarky - but every tease at the very tip of your tongue vanishes when he buries his head into your lap. And you feel something wet, something drench though your skirt heatedly.

“Is…” you’re gulping thickly. “Is everything okay, Satoru?”

Ah, his name sounds too perfect on your tongue.

“Suguru…” Is all he shudders out wetly, jittery hands looping even more vice-like around your figure. “He-”

It’s just about the only thing he can get out, and it’s just about everything you need to hear before bringing his shivering body closer. Quiet. Steady. Rocking the strongest gently, while you hum a wordless melody. “S’alright. S’gonna be okay.”

Now, he thinks. Now now now now - tell her. Tell her. But when a tear of your own stains his shirt, he knows. Hauling you in even deeper to his chest, he prays you don’t hear his thundering heart. Perhaps tomorrow.

---

Gojo is twenty-one by the time he’s dragging you hand-in-loveable-hand through the winding hallways of an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. Mumbling excited little mutters, and almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he was navigating the corridors.

“Sato- S-Sato-” you’re squealing out, grimacing at the tugging burn of your hands in his. “Toru! Where are you- taking me?”

Sheepishly, he looks at you over his shoulder, “Whoops, did I forget to tell you- I have kids!”

He doesn’t know what’s louder - your shocked shout of “What? When?...By who?” or the screeching of his own two shoes skidding to a halt in front of that familiar door.

“Well, they’re not mine.” Gojo sighs ultimately, with a hand at the door. And that makes you quieten down just enough to hear his barely-audible little whisper. Determined. Reverent, almost. “But they’re mine.”

And when he finally opens the door, just one look at the tiny, black-haired little boy and his sharp scowl is all you need to understand. You’re whirling your eyes back to his beaming gaze, oh, Satoru.

Only mere moments later the two of you - accompanied by a very begrudging Megumi, and his sister - sit by the booth of one of your favorite cafés. Embarrassingly, he finds himself sighing while watching you crack jokes with the little girl. Turning to the server to order for her - it almost felt like a little family. Oh you’d make such a perfect mother. A completely objective observation, of course. Completely. Unless-

“You’ll never do it.” a tug on his sleeve has him facing Megumi’s leveled stare. How the hell does a kid manage to look like he’s seen the monstrosities of the world already? Gojo blames the father.

Baring his teeth, “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Little did he know that all it took was watching him seethe whenever the waiter by your side was just a bit too talkative, a bit too lingering with his gaze. In his little reverie, Gojo had accidentally croaked out a low, “I-” before you’d turned those pretty eyes his way, only to choke back embarrassingly on every syllable. Gesturing at you to ignore his little mishap.

“Tell her, I mean.” Megumi hums. Taking a wizened sip of his milkshake, “She’ll date that waiter before you if you don’t tell her.”

“That’s so…so stupid.” Gojo whispers back hotly. “I will tell her.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will-”

“Boys!” Your scolding tone makes them both jump - mainly Gojo, however, caught off-guard. Who scratches behind his neck when you wag a finger admonishingly, “Stop arguing, we’re in public. Now, as for payment-” Before turning back politely to the waiter.

“See?” Megumi counters, back to appraising the last of his cupcake. “You’re such a loser.”

Gojo’s gaze, however, stray back your way, as he found them often doing these days. Only to find them already on him, scrunched into crescents with a smile and twinkling so bright that he could almost catch his idiotic gawking in them.

Very pointedly he ignores the knowing roll of Megumi’s eyes, the exact type he’s seen too much with Shoko, and Nanami, and Utahime, and Yaga - and every single being to come into contact with his almost-tangibly hopeless feelings for you.

Instead, slamming that shiny new black card of his down in front of him - with enough fervor that the tabletop jostles, and you jolt out of your conversation with the waiter.

“I’ll be the one paying for myself, and my two kids and-” His burning eyes drink in every shred of surprise on your features. “-my wife.”

Somewhere in the distance, Gojo can hear Tsumiki giggle, and Megumi smack a hand onto his forehead. But right now he’s too busy remembering the exact degree to which your lips curl up, the way you hold back a laugh at the waiter’s jaw dropping. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were way too young to have two kids of this age.

“He was getting a bit pushy.” you’d conspire afterwards, now completely full and fatigued after a long day. “Thanks for that, Toru.”

Gojo sighs, flashing you a megawatt grin. If there were ever a time he thanks his Six Eyes for being able to memorize every little detail - every little feature in this picture - then it would be right now. He’s reveling in the bittersweet perfection. Yeah, he thinks, holding up a sleepy Megumi in his arms, maybe tomorrow.

---

There’s actually been about sixty different times over the years that Gojo knows you’d wanted to punch him straight in his face - and he’s sure, at the age of twenty-seven, that this is the very latest one.

“How did you get hit, don’t you have limitless?”

He shoots a wink your way, “Maybe I wanted you to patch me up?”

You scoff, “You stupid, moronic-”

“-no-brained, glasses-wearing dumbass.” he finishes for you, flashing you a cocky smirk that wouldn’t have been endearing for anyone but him. Gojo makes himself more comfortable on the hard infirmary bed, “You know, you’ve really got to update your list of insults, sweetheart. I don’t even wear the shades that much anymore.”

It was new - as soon as you’d cackled at the idea of him being a teacher with perpetual sunglasses, he’d wrapped that blindfold around his head. It was a slight shame, frankly, he was always honest with his eyes - but what was more important was that change.

Sweetheart.

Sometime after you’d intertwined seamlessly into Gojo’s mishmashed little family, he’d taken to calling you syrupy sweet nicknames. It’d started out as a joke, you think - with “sugarplum” and “honeybuckets” and whatever grocery item he could think of, before turning into something very, very real.

Though, they still made poor Megumi grimace in disgust just the same.

“Zoning out on me, babygirl?”

Yeah, sometimes they made you grimace in disgust, too.

“No-” you’re rolling your eyes, putting a little bit more force than necessary when you dab the warm napkin at those tiny specks of blood on his lip. “Just hoping you’d shut up.”

Gojo hisses, eyes crinkling at the edges - and you can’t help but think of how much older he looked than the disgruntled sixteen-year-old that swore at you on your first day.

“What?” his snowy brows raise, catching the hints of your laughter.

You take a moment longer to bask in the memories, before sighing. “Nothing. Just thinking about when we first met, s’been ten years already, hasn’t it?”

Of course, it has - it’s not like something the great Gojo Satoru could ever even think about forgetting. He remembers it in every cheesy selfie from high school you show him, he remembers in each and every one of your laughs at his overused jokes - the same ones he’d cracked way back then.

“It has.” he’s settling on after a few rare beats of silence. The thick white sheets on the bed rustle as he grasps your hand in his, “And I think I remember that today more than any other.”

It was impossible not to, when you’d just met your best friend after ten years. When you’d just killed your best friend with your own two hands.

Your pretty eyes shine with all the tears you’d been hiding, “Yeah? Guess so, huh?” Without warning, you bend down to meet your forehead with his, gulping back heavily. You knew he didn’t just want to be patched up, you knew better. And you knew that even the strongest gets lonely. Especially the strongest. Your voice is strained, quiet. “Do you think he’s happier now, Toru?”

Truthfully, Gojo doesn’t know.

But he whispers anyway, “I think so.”

To soothe you - and himself - if anything.

His eyes burn, and he’s scrunching them shut. A lump forming in his throat, Gojo can feel his entire being just rattle with the sudden wonder whether you’d feel it just the same when - if - he dies. Would you ask if he’s happy, too? Thinking he did and had everything he wanted in this life - not knowing he’s searching for you in every one? This life, and the next, and each one after.

“Sweetheart.” Gojo mumbles, eyes widening when you’re raising your head to look back at him, as if he didn’t even expect the words to fall from his lips. His jaw clenches, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips like the rest of it was just threatening to wrench from his throat. “He- Suguru. Back in high school - before he…left- he told me-”

“Gojo sensei, where is the- Oh!”

The two of you jump apart as if it burned, and for Gojo, the angry split on his lower lip hurts infinitely less than losing your touch. Holding back a silent whine, he turns towards the dark-haired boy fretting by the doorway, “Yuta? Something wrong?”

“Oh, you’ve done it, newbie.” Panda’s deep voice sounds from behind the doorway, and he peaks his large head in. “Gojo’s got his serious voice on, should’ve just spied silently like me. I told you not to interrupt him and his wife.”

“You’re married?!”

“We’re not married!”

“Tuna.”

The room erupts in far too many voices, and before long you’re clapping your hands in that strict teacherly manner that Gojo teases you always learned from Yaga himself.

“Okay, that’s enough.” you call out, before turning to the newest first year. “Okkotsu, do you need help with anything? I’ll be right with you.”

“I…I really didn’t mean to interrupt.” he’s bowing with apologies, ones that you only wave away with a chuckled-out, “It’s okay, Panda’s joking. We’re not married or anything anyway.”

And Gojo doesn’t know whether the look Yuta gives him is more akin to pity or understanding - he prefers it be neither, which is why he’s covering his head with the blanket. Groaning dramatically until you’re turning your attention back to him.

You ruffle the amount of his hair peaking, and he has to screw his glassy eyes shut. “Toru, what is it that you wanted to say?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid.” His tone is unreadable, “I’ll tell you, hope- hopefully tomorrow.”

---

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart.”

You’re barely holding up the clingy mess that is a twenty-nine-year-old Gojo Satoru. Huffing and puffing in a way that makes his heart and his arms around you just squeeze, “It’s not an option. You know I have to do this.”

How he wished he didn’t.

How he wished he could grab your hand and run away from the fight with Sukuna, hide in the countryside of his hometown and build a new life with you.

It’s already been a hellish few weeks trying to get Gojo unsealed, and you can feel the last few months pounding at your temples. You let out a sigh, one that has him holding back a strangely giddy laugh. But before you can open your mouth to yell at him to not go - or more accurately, beg him until he doesn’t - there’s a tentative voice speaking up from behind you.

“Um…sensei?” Yuji’s wide eyes sweep over his two teachers, being at Jujutsu Tech for a few months, he’s seen everything there is to see about the two of you. He saw the way you smacked the strongest when he got too mouthy, the way he let down limitless just so you could smack him. He saw the laughs, the looks, the way you’d flown into a frenzy when Gojo was sealed.

Everyone saw.

It was like you were crazed, and right now, only a month after his return - you were gripping onto Gojo like he was the only thing keeping you anything but.

So, it shouldn’t be new at this point. But he still can’t hold back the wonder in his voice, “I uh- wanted to ask about your robes for tomorrow- but maybe I can come back another time?”

“Yes yes, come back another time-”

“What robes?”

You narrow your eyes at the man, and that sheepish little curl of his lips does everything but soothe your worries. He knew you saw right through him, you always did.

Gojo’s exclaiming out loud, “Well- remember Toji-?” He waves his hands around, trying for a slightly softer way to say ‘the sorcerer killer and father of our honorary kid, who just-so-happens to be on a rampage right now’, before ultimately settling on, “-the worm guy? Well, I just figured I might as well take a page out of his book and dress like him, y’know since I’m fighting…Megumi after all.”

It takes a few seconds of stunned silence for you to find your voice, “You stupid-”

“-moronic, no-brained, blindfold-wearing-”

“-dumbass! You remember what happened to him!”

He bats his long, long lashes at you, “Why? Would you get this heated if I died just the same way he did?”

“No!” Your voice makes even Yuji flinch, which in turn has you reaching over to pat his head, “This is not on you, darling, of course. But your teacher here-” And it was comical, almost, the way the strongest stands up ramrod straight at just a leveled glare from you, “-will be getting it when he comes back from the fight.”

Comes back.

Oh, as much as Gojo throws his head back with chortles, he can’t help the way his heart twinges at the very thought of leaving you.

And he can’t be sure of just how long.

“Ah, you talk too much, pretty. I’ll tell Megs how much you miss him.” You’re not given a second’s warning before you’re back in his embrace - more steady, this time. His arms securely around your waist, like they’d been twelve years ago and never wanted to leave since. Lips pressed up against the thundering pulse at your neck, Gojo’s voice dips just a bit lower than you’re used to. Breathing you in, “I will, too, y’know? Very much.”

Jittery, he could feel every slight tremor in your nervous fingers when you run them through his hair, dipping into the ends of his black blindfold.

“Wh-what do you mean? S’only for a few hours, Toru.” you hum. “You better be back or so help me.”

“I know…” he heaves out, only pressing you close up against his broad frame. “But just in case- I-” Gojo’s voice cracks pathetically at the end, and he’s instantly too aware of Yuji’s keen eyes still watching. Edging up against the corner of the room like he wished he could have Gojo’s teleportation powers right about now. “-have something stupid to tell you. So I’ll hurry home anyways.”

You’re pulling back to quirk a brow, “Why not just tell me now?”

How he wished he could.

“Because it’s stupid.”

Later, Gojo will find himself strewn across jujutsu hall with Yuji himself - the only one, other than you, he thinks, that can stand to be around a weapon like him right now. Listening to the hum of cursed energy in the air, he gets himself ready for the fight.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Especially now?” His student pipes up, suddenly, and Gojo remembers with a sigh just how uncomfortably in tune he is with everyone around him. Fearfully, so. “That you lov-”

“Because it’s stupid.” the older one grins. Such a sad, warmly smile - and for perhaps the first time, Yuji thinks that Gojo Satoru looks his age. “And I don’t think she’d want to hear it if I don’t make it to tomorrow.”

---

“Stupid.” you mutter, biting angrily at your nails. Hot tears burn behind your closed lids, and you can’t help but tighten your hand even more around his cold, cold ones. Limp. Like death. “You’re so, so stupid.”

There’s no response. No sing-song voice finishing off your insults, no large and ruffling your hair until you have to bat him away.

Gojo Satoru was deathly still.

Laid out on the cold mattress of his room, you’d bugged Shoko enough to let you move him here, knowing how much he hated the infirmary.

“Being so reckless- having Yuta use your body-” in your fit of anger, you’re whirling your head up. Only for the pang of regret and grief to hit you tenfold all over again - because like this, he was too statuesque. A pretty mask of pale, what you’d give to have those eyes wink at you once more. “-if- when you wake up, I’m gonna kill you all over again.”

They told you he was dead - there was no point in waiting. In fact, you were sure there was a grave dug already, it was just a matter of how soon they could get to you.

It was a strange thing, to be loved just enough to get a burial. In the end, it was lonely.

And so stupid.

And at times, you felt that way, too. But all it took was one visit to where Geto’s grave was, a few long hours sat by his side, and you knew you couldn’t let Gojo escape you that easily. Not after everything, not after what he hasn’t told you, yet.

“Just wake up.” you sigh, the defeat bleeding into your every word. You run your thumb over the pronounced knuckles on his hand, calloused and scarred from his fight. “There’s so much to hear about. Higuruma’s alive, Nobara’s alive, pulling off that eyepatch. Like father, like daughter, huh? And Megumi- I saw Megumi laugh today. Yuji, too.”

Silence. Only stone-cold silence. He didn’t even move - not even the barest twitch of a finger.

“I just need you to wake up.” Your words are tumbling out a mile a minute, distantly, you wonder whether this was how Gojo felt when he first met you. How he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop wanting. “Shoko’s mad at you, y’know? But I know she misses you, no matter how much she pretends not to. I know that Jujutsu Tech can’t go any longer without Yaga, we- I need you. Didn’t even get to tell you-”

It’s all croaked out into a deafening silence, at least if you were in the hospital room then maybe the pinging of the heart monitor might’ve accompanied you. But they’d pulled him off that, too.

Unmistakable.

“And I know that I…” You bury your face into the now-damp blankets, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

There’s only the split-second you take to snap your head up before lips are crashing onto yours - plump, slightly-chapped but something so sweetly Satoru. Before you can even think about kissing back, however, he’s pulling away.

Only to press hasty, chaste pecks again. And again. And again and again and-

Gojo kisses your wet eyelids, “I love you.” Your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips. “I love you I love you I love you- and you beat me to it.” Those strained little words strike your very core - because it’s unmistakably Gojo. Sounding anything but, they’re broken and wrenching painfully out of his wracking chest. “So I just- I just had to-” Big, strong arms wrap around your middle - when did they even get there? It pangs somewhere in your hazy mind that you’re basically hoisted up on Gojo’s bed now, “-to do exactly what I’ve been wanting to since we were like this, thirteen years ago. Everything I’ve ever hoped for.”

“Everything?” you whisper.

“Everything. Even the strongest has dreams, y’know?” And he flashes you that smile you’ve missed so much, one you don’t think you’ve quite seen in years. “Even something stupid like ‘I love you.’”

That makes you cautiously glide over your palms onto the planes of his muscled chest, lightly pushing away to take in all of him.

It was him. Alive.

Really alive.

“Gojo…” you whimper, tears welling up behind your eyelids all over again.

“Ouch. Really?”

“Satoru.”

“Hmmm…”

“Toru.”

“That’s more like it.” The circled warmth around your waist crashes you even closer onto every ridge and divot of his hard chest, into the sweetest embrace - the kind you really couldn’t be mad about after your best friend had almost left you forever. “Told ya I’d come back, sweetheart.”

You could practically hear the sunshiney smile in his words, and his entire hulking body shook with emotion.

“You’re back.” you breathe, dancing your arms upwards to wrap around his neck. “You’re here.” It takes only a second longer of being in his burning proximity, to catch that pearly white smile - tired, and infinitely harder than before - to have some semblance of rationality dipping into your mind. “-and- and we have to tell everyone!” you’re yelping. Moving to scramble off of his lap, “Oh- fuck, and they thought I was crazy. We have to- have to have Shoko give you a check-up and have Kusakabe finally ditch those funeral plans and-”

You’re being shut up by Gojo’s lips on yours again, slow and sensual. It’s deeper this time, and he’s taking the time to part those candied lips of yours, sucking gently on the very tip of your hot tongue.

“My funeral is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” he chuckles against your lips.

“But-”

“Tomorrow.” Gojo soothes, craning his weary neck to kiss your forehead. “We can do all that tomorrow. But right now, I just want to spend time with the love of my life.” His cerulean eyes just gleam with unshed tears and even more unspoken words, “Doesn’t have to be forever. Just right now.”

As promised, he’s petting up and down your body lazily. Kissing you until even smiling felt bruised and raw. But it’s only when the air grows thick, when the slight jostle of your body on top of his becomes hot, his own skin burning soon after that Gojo lets out a sullen hiss.

“Toru-” you pull away panickedly, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the nonexistent air between you two. “We should really-”

“No- no no no no. Please wait-” Hastily, he’s bringing down a jittery hand to his hip, the buzz of reversed curse technique flowing through his thrumming veins. Meeting your uncertain gaze, “I’ve waited so long. Wontcha just let me worship you right now?”

As if to prove his point, he’s bucking upwards ever-so-slightly. The momentum teetering you precariously on his lap, dragging the heated core between your legs down in such a sloppy drag.

You’re gasping when the very outer edges of your panties rub up against something so hard, and rotund. Feeling the wet squelch of his angry tip gush out in a dripping wet wave at the friction. “A-are you sure?” you’re stammering, trying to hold back the way your greedy thighs were trying to rub together. Only achieving heavy, languid gyrations on top of the rock-hard outline of Gojo’s cock. “How about tomorrow? When you’re feeling better?”

It’s a slow, steady rhythm. There’s a ringing schwf! schwf! schwf! of sopping wet fabric, and it was driving him crazy.

“Right now please- haaa-” Gojo’s tongue lolls out so sluttily to graze against your own, dazed blue irises rolling to the back of his head. His spine curves upwards, abs rippling with a harsh drag of your clothed pussy down his weepy shaft. “Whenever you’d have me.”

Almost tentatively, your hips roll forward. That flimsy excuse of your panties bunching up with each grazing rub, it’s all you can do to not just keen at the utterly delicious curve of his thick girth. Throbbing and twitchy under each of your motions.

He’s hissing when your underwear snags on the very divot at his thick head, sitting up on two elbows, “S-sweetheart.”

“No, Toru.” your palms are back on his pecs, easily pinning the strongest down with a gentle push of your own. “Jus’ let me do all the work, m’kay?”

Gojo wasn’t all too happy - and the sullen pout jutting on his spit-glossed lips told you more than enough. But he wasn’t going down without a fight - that was for sure.

“F-fine.” he grunts at a particularly harsh grind of your hips. Fuck, he felt like some animal, humping up into you like he was out of control. He could practically feel your puffed-up pussy lips through his pants, he could almost taste it. Two rough hands come to rest on your hips, grabbing and kneading a handful of your ass. “But then you’re not just hah- sitting there, pretty.”

And, shit, even like this, you should’ve known better than to underestimate Gojo Satoru himself. Because whatever he wanted, he got. The one thing he didn’t was you - and now, since he had you, too, fuck- he might just be going insane.

Not a moment’s wasted before you’re being so easily hauled up, up, up the entire expanse of Gojo’s body. Jittery body being balanced easily as if you were some type of toy, up from the slender curve of his toned hips, up around where his broad deltoids were spread, all the way until your cunt was hovering over his needy mouth. “Can’t believe I hngh- almost died without havin’ a taste of this pretty pussy.”

“Toru.”

“Sweetheart.” he mocks.

You shiver with each feverish puff of hot breath blown right onto your clothed cunt. And even more so when you’re feeling such a long, slender finger slide in through the translucent fabric.

Fuck, Gojo swallows thickly, bunching up your skirt. You were so sopping wet he could almost see the outline of his index through your panties. He slides the back of it slowly up and down. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the volume of your saturated slick collecting on his digit, just trailing glossily down to his deft wrist.

Mesmerized, your jaw falls slack at the sight down below of Gojo - cloudy hair mussed, cheeks all pink and burning a blushing rouge, tongue darting out to catch each stray drop of your sweet sweet juices. Drip! Drip! Drip!

“Oh- sh-shiiit-” he rasps, lowly, mulling over your honeyed taste. Sounding so awed, breath hitching when Gojo tugs your panties just enough to the side to catch a mere glimpse of your messy cunt. Glistening and winking down lewdly at him. “S’jus’ you n’ me right now, huh?”

You don’t know who exactly he’s talking to - and you don’t get to find out, because that’s all it takes for Gojo’s kiss-bitten lips to clash messily against your cunt - panties and all.

A soft swipe of his tongue glides the fabric to the side, so depraved, so needy that for that split-second he’s tasting you, he can’t even think of removing it. One taste of your sweetened pussy and he can’t even bear the thought of breaking apart, licking up in long, languid stripes that wet the very front of your swollen folds.

Just the taste of you had him palming desperately at the tent in his pants, rubbing up and down at a pace that matched his rummaging tongue.

The very edge of your tastebuds rub so deliciously in teasing circles around the corners of your dripping silt, your inner thighs.

“S-s’toru-” you’re letting out such throaty, dragged-out groans that send every drop of blood in Gojo’s body thumping to his achy cock. “Don’t be such a- a tease.”

You’re locking your glassy eyes with him and he feels like he could pass out. Groaning and smacking into your cunt, “Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- tell me what you want, sweetheart. Anything.” Your entire body arches into his hot mouth like such a slut, when he bullies between your folds. Barely flicking against the sensitive nub of your clit. “Everything. Anything for you.”

When you’re weaving your fingers deliriously through his silky soft strands, he babbles, “Oh fuck- yeah, pull on my hair.” One of his hands come down to grip onto your panties, pulling the fabric so that you revel in the filthy friction. “Use me while you ride m’face, okay?”

With that, his mouth is sagging open even further letting your thighs straddle the entirety of his face so easily. So close. So messy how he was carding his tongue from the very base of your pussy, up into your quivering entrance.

“Fuck–” you’re whining, grinding into his touch when he wraps his soft lips around your clit. Barely even easing you with syrupy, wet circles of his heated tongue before sucking. Harsh. Depraved. But so, so him. “Don’- don’ stop, feels too good–!”

You didn’t know if he heard you, fuck you didn’t even know if Gojo was even breathing.

Even if he wanted to stop - he didn’t think he could. Because he was so ravenous between your legs, forcing your pliant body into such smooth gyrations on his tongue. Silken, soft, such sultry licks of his tongue on your clit.

Electricity sparks behind your eyes when with a wet slurp! he smacks away from your pretty pussy, “You think- you think I can stop?” And he sounds so genuinely in disbelief, as if the very thought of it was appalling. Through heavy, lingering kisses and sucks onto your clit, Gojo’s managing to get out, “I can’t have enough. Fuck- please.” The very rounded pads of his fingers dig so bruisingly into the flesh of your ass, jiggling and kneading with every drag of your hips. He’s begging at this point, “Fuck yourself on my face. Rougher, faster, c’mon now. You can do it, my sweetheart.”

He was so fucking desperate, big fat tears almost welling in his eyes while he whined underneath you. Groping so obscenely at his sweltering hot erection. How could you not listen?

“If you say so.”

Using the vice-like grip on his locks, you’re managing to leverage your motions even deeper. Rougher, like he’d wanted. Every protesting creak of the bedpost was accompanied by a synchronized whimpering of ah! ah! ah! coming from both your mouths.

“S’it good?” he gasps, and all you could see was the flushed upper half of his features. And the lower half - fuck, though the peaks and cracks you could make out just how glisteningly wet it was with all of your messy cunt. His lips were just drenched, slick-soaked mouth making out harshly with your pussy through your panties. Trailing all the way down in a glossy sheen over the lower half of his face, dripping off his chin, fuck- up to his cheekbones-

As if that wasn’t enough, the massive palm resting at your thigh comes dancing down to tease around your sopping wet entrance.

If you were in the right state of mind, you could’ve sworn that you heard a sharp rip! coming from that poor tattered fabric of your underwear right then and there.

“Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- use that pretty voice of yours please.” Still suckling lewdly on your clit, his cheeks hollow out . Entire body just jolting upwards, forcing you to press down harder with your motions. “Use me. Use me.”

“S-so–” you mewl when his slender fingers bully easily past that first ring of muscle. So many cold inches of his digits, feeling around determinedly inside your heated, gummy walls for those sweet spots that will make you whine. “So loud, Toru-” you’re spitting, meshing his mouth even harder with yours down below. And you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt. “For someone that wants this s-so hngh! bad you sure are-”

There.

Right there.

Gojo Satoru had just crashed into the spongy cavern of your g-spot - easily, at that. And there was such a crazed, sloppy sting to each of his movements. Smashing in over and over-

“Heh…tha’s how I l-like it.” he’s spying up at your trembly thighs, the way his overworked lips were being coated with a fresh wave of our honeyed slick with each passing second. “Good girl- gooood fuckin’ girl–”

Hazily, you’re wondering whether it doesn’t hurt. Whether his weepy cock ached just as badly as it looked, how his tongue isn’t fucking cramping up by now.

But he goes on - like he couldn’t stop, like he was out of control. A greedy little push and pull, dragging his tongue all over until you saw flashes of white. Until you could only scream out his name like a mantra. Until you were cumming.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck- Toru!” your slurring out a mile a minute. Both of your hands now steadfast on his head, riding out your high all over Gojo’s pretty, pretty face. And he let you - fuck, he let you. “M’cumming- shit, feel so good. M’cumming-”

So good, so filthy that it made your toes curl, your hips stutter sloppily. Arching like such a slut, you could barely even see properly. Your breath was coming out in such labored heaves at this point, and Gojo wasn’t any better.

It was like he couldn’t stop, happily drinking up every single, sticky drop your cunt had to offer. Pussydrunken eyes drooping shut, unable to let out anything but satisfied grunts. The muscle of his tongue is just frenzied in eager slips and slides along your cunt - absolutely no rhythm or method right now. Sucking, licking, biting anywhere he could possibly reach.

“F-fuck–” you’re crying out tearily once the very peak of your orgasm fades, and all that’s left are a few overstimulated tingles being wrenched out by a greedy Gojo. “Toru, m’done.” You tug desperately on his hair - but even that doesn’t bate him the slightest bit. “S’getting too much- fuck-”

“Awww, too much for my girl?” he’s cooing, the words jumbling together in his drunken state. There’s a glossy mess of spit and slick drooling down the corners of his smirk. “Does this cute cunt of yours need a break?”

At your barely-lucid nod, it only grows wider. Smugger. “Too bad-” And Gojo’s just taunting you with a final, long lick up the very core of your pussy, “Because if I almost hah- died without her once, then you best believe m’gonna c-crawl back from death for ya each and every single time.”

It takes his strong arms - even bruised and battered through battle - only two whole seconds to plop you back down prettily onto his lap. Right over where his angry cock was just weeping for attention. And suddenly, it hurts without you. “So you’re not getting a break anytime soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Ha ha.” You’re rolling your eyes, “Very funny.”

“Mhm.” Gojo looks up at you through his white lashes, and you can only watch when he brings up his syrupy-sweet, glossy fingers up to his mouth. One by one. Sucking. Slowly, looking right into your eyes. It makes your mouth just salivate. “Got that right.”

The sheets billow behind you when you’re fumbling deftly with his shirt, all but ripping - tearing that stupid thing off of his form. Your skirt and top are soon to follow - his jaw clenches with the slight strain, leaving it in poor tatters on the floor.

“Shit- shit you’ve been-” his mouth just waters when your tits are released from your bra. Jiggling tantalizingly in his face in a way that makes him bury into it. “-been holding out on me.”

“Oh-” you let out, traitorously, at the first sight of each curve and divot along his milky sculpted body. Gojo Satoru was serious about dressing up like Toji, and no matter how much his t-shirt looked so sinfully painted on - actually seeing it was something else. “You’re so pretty, Toru.” You smooth your palms down his large shoulders, the faint scars between his pecs, his abs - that scar. Stark and large, Shoko had done her best work, but it still looked so painful. It must feel so, too, being sewn back together like some ragdoll. He catches the way your expression dampers - of course, he does. “Toru…”

Gojo winces when your fingers glide over that jagged scar. But if that was pain, then it was absolutely nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated fear when you abruptly pull your hands away.

“S-sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he cuts you off, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. All but dragging it - right along with you - to his still-healing body. “Touch me. Hurts more when you don’t.”

You’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter, and his poor, angry cock twitch. “Hurts me when you lie.”

“M’not lying, see?” With a low nod of his head, he’s gesturing you to look down - where it was unmissable.

Because straddled right in-between your pussy lips was Gojo’s erect cock - proud and so prominent, even through his pants. With the sheer girth bulging upwards you could feel your greedy pussy dampen over the cloth in anticipation.

“Well…” He’s throwing his head back when you knead your palm over the very end of his print, “I can’t quite see-”

Gojo takes the hint - and you have to bite your lip from teasing that it was quite possibly the only hint you’d thrown his way that he’d actually understood. But it was so hard to - not when he was this eager.

And, on those long, lonely nights, you’d imagined that your best friend would be suave, infinitely collected with things like this.

But, no, he was fumbling and jittery with his movements. So needy to please you that it takes you to help him pull down his tight, sticky boxers over the curving muscle of his thighs.

“O-oh fuck–” you breathe out, when he finally springs out. Sweeping up and down each and every long, thick inch of him - Gojo was as hard as if he was carved out of fucking diamond. Such a furious, rosy red at his leaky tip, glistening down, down, down into the most mouth-watering shade of creamy pink at his thick hilt. He was so big. Your thighs squeeze together in sultry need - with a slight tinge of fear. So unfairly pretty - even like this. “You’re- you’re so much bigger than I’d imagined, Toru.”

No sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re being flashed with his dark smirk once more, “You imagined this?” There’s a slight reverence to his voice, scared.

It almost makes you shy - and Gojo can practically sense the waves of embarrassment rolling off of you.

“Awww, come back to me, please, pretty- Please-” he purrs, cupping your cheeks. “I came hah- back, didn’t I?” You’re being jostled to and fro when he rests himself more comfortably on the bed, leaning back to admire you further. “And now-” Your breath hitches in your throat when he situates himself right in-between your thighs, the fat curve of his head so swelteringly kissing your folds. Drenching it in his thick precum, “-now m’never gonna let ya go.”

Fuck, you know you should heave in a few gasps of hair, you know you should relax, maybe even stretch your legs wide open.

Because Gojo was so fucking big, it felt like he was splitting you from the inside out. Just the slight push of his tip bullying between your folds has you moaning - crying.

“You- you’re so big-” Your nails dig into the plush of his pecs for stability, leaving neat crescent patterns that stand out redly. “S’like you’re reaching into my hngh- l-lungs-”

Just those words have him expanding even deeper, ruddying even more furiously. Gojo gets so much bigger that you just can’t help but sink yourself down his shaft, feeling your elastic walls contort so easily around his length.

“H-heh– ohhh-” he breathes out - baritone voice lilting a few pitches higher than usual. The hands around your waist grab you even harsher, feeding you each inch by fucking inch of his fat, pulsing cock. “You got me- so–” His hips thrust upwards in mindless little jabs, “-fucked up, right now, sweetheart.”

And while all you can do is whine and moan around his unforgiving cock, Gojo babbles on, “B-better get ready ngh- because I’m gonna be riiiight-” His thick index draws and invisible line up, up, up to somewhere midway up your stomach. Before pressing down. Brandingly. “-here.”

The pressure is enough to have your hips just slamming down with a wet smack! all the way to his hilt. The slap of skin-on-skin rings through the heady air and into both your drunken brains, making him just throw his head back into the plush pillows.

“Yes-” you’re keening, your fingers wrapping subconsciously around Gojo’s pretty throat to have him facing you once more. He was so gorgeous this way - blue eyes falling shut with pleasure, mouth bitten raw and parted into a soft oh! pale muscles twitching with each breath. So fucked-out already that it almost made you think the sight alone could have you cumming. “Look at me, Toru- hah- gonna make up for lost time, right? Gonna fuck me good?”

His answering nods are more than enough, but Gojo doesn’t just stop there - no, he’s putting in every bit of last strength he has to just hammer into you upwards. Meeting every one of your relentless bounces down on him, he just clashes into your ravaged g-spot.

“Oh yeah, my girl.” he spits, a twinkling trail of drool dripping down the side of his lips. Crushing you so tight to his hardened front, “Ride me- ride me jus’ like that. Fuck- thought I saw heaven on the battlefield but it might jus’ be this pussy-” Over and over.

The back of your hand ends up on his forehead, “I think you’ve got a concussion.” It was in every little touch - that “something stupid.”

At your surprised giggles, he’s rummaging your insides even more ferociously. Smushing the very end of his thick head against your spongy cervix. It was so soft, so swelteringly hot having him inside you. Clashing in long, wet glides against every inch of your pussy.

The stretch was dizzying - and if it hadn’t been for Gojo’s lips attacking yours, then you’d have let your head loll backwards. It’s like he was marking you from the inside out, bruising the plushy insides of your cunt to every ridge and thumping vein down his possessive cock.

“Spit on me.”

His sudden plea puffs out of his plump lips, startling you out of your cockdrunk little reverie. “Spit on me, please, pretty. Mmpf-”

Gojo whimpers - whimpers - when the thick wad of your saliva hits his pink tongue, and the action has him delving into you impossibly deeper. Planting two feet onto the mattress, he angles his hips into your tight channel even harsher. Grimacing at the slight twinge of pain, “Shit-”

“Toru–”

“Wait wait- please- let me-” Expectedly, he’s cutting you off frantically. Begging, pleading with everything he had before activating reversed curse technique more. “Wanna fuck this gorgeous cunt so bad- fuck fuck fuck-”

But you’re only grinding your hips down faster - all the way from the pretty pink tip of his cock, until your ass massages against his tight, cum-filled balls. Thwacking! against your skin deliciously, pushing you up to scratch your clit against his snowy pubes.

A few more unapologetic kisses up against your sweet spots have you blinking back stars, “Toru–” Your swiveling motions have him so hypnotized, following every move where his massive cock was disappearing in and out of your snug hole. “Kiss me-”

Oh, you didn’t even have to ask.

It’s such a sloppy kiss - all teeth and lips and Gojo grunting gutturally into your mouth. Letting you just use him like your favorite toy, fucking him until the bed creaked with effort and Gojo’s balls just smacked! angrily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers. Drinking in your saccharine sweet gasps when he dips down one of his hands to your puffy clit, rolling the soft edge of his thumb in slow, methodical circles. “You’re gonna be the ah- d-death of me.”

Your hand around his throat tightens, making his eyes just roll back in ecstacy. “Better not die on me just y-yet, Toru. Not now, not tomorrow.”

For this, you’re being gifted with such a tight squeeze of his two fingers around your sensitive nub. Wracking your body forwards - exactly where he wanted you, exactly where he needed you to smash his sobbing tip into your g-spot.

The stimulation is too much, and each of your pressurized slams down onto the sharp bones on Gojo’s v-line have him moaning. Bucking up helplessly whenever your heavenly walls drag sloppily up his shaft, like it hurt to not have each and every one of his heated inches buried inside.

“Well- then-” You’re riding him now just as much as he was fucking up into you, leaving a damp puddle of slick and dredges of precum on the sheets below. Gojo’s punctuating each word with a harsh battering ram, “Better- cum f’me soon, huh? Because m’not gonna- fuck-” His nagging tip jolts into your sweet spots as if being zapped with white-hot electricity, in such a sloppy staccato with his feverish fingers. “-fuck I don’t think m’gonna last long.”

You’re nodding your head, clinging onto him like a second skin. “Mhm- m’so close, Toru.” Biting down wetly on his lower lip, “-gonna cum soon.”

Just the thought of it has him keening, stuttering up so messily. His precum coats your insides even more slippery slick, so heated in a way he thinks he might just explode.

“I know, I know, sweetheart–” he’s simpering down in your tone, though his hips were anything but. Letting out some of the lewdest slurps that made your ears ring. “I got you. I got you, cum all over my cock, yeah?”

It only takes a few more mess strokes from both of your sweat-sheened bodies before you finally reach your high. Electricity thrums down your veins, your body arches so deeply into his. Bending into the perfect bow that has him spying down at your quivering folds, the way your gushing cunt expands and contracts through each and every one of your waves of pleasure.

And he’s fucking you through it so filthy, fingers toying so erratically on your clit. Still reeling, still smashing the very divot of his cock into your bruised g-spot. Again and again.

“Ohh- fuuuck—” Gojo whines, eyes scrunching shut. Strained. Depraved. “Fuck fuck fuck me- please, please m’gonna-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he’s stuffing your snug pussy full with ribbon after ribbon of thick, velvety cum. Potent seed coating your gummy walls in such a milky sweet gloss, the squelches from below are so loud. So soppingly wet.

The hand at your waist moves down to where your poor cunt was just bulging with all inches of his spazzing cock. Gojo’s thumbing apart the corners of your slit just enough that his swelteringly hot cum oozes out of you in a slow trail. Sinful.

“Oh my god-” he breathes, eyes unwavering. Hips thrusting upwards to push his cum up into you even deeper. It glistens opaquely down his length, forming a creamy ring at his thick base. “Oh my god love you- fuck!”

“Toru- m’so full-” you whine. A hand of yours coming up to press exactly where he had before, except now you could feel the nudging pace of his ruthless cock, the sloshing of Gojo’s seed all up inside you. “-really can feel you right here.”

“Tha’s the point, girl - my girl, should I say.” he’s pressing such a chaste kiss to your lips. And it would be swee - almost - if it wasn’t for the way Gojo’s greedy fingers soak themselves in the obscene mess from your cunt down below. Bringing them all the way up, up, up to his mouth. Suckling gently, “But…but you wanna hear something stupid?”

Your eyes widen, “Wh-what?”

And he only grins, “I hope you know I love you, sweetheart. Because you sure as hell aren’t walking tomorrow.”

A/N. Can y’all tell I’ve been widowed not too long ago? Anyways, last post before kínktober! I tried posting this on Sunday but it refused to work so pray for me this time y’all *SOBS* <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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jackhues · 6 months ago

Text

it's not hate... | oscar piastri

note: okay so i was bored and i got a random inspiration i hope y'all like this <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

youruser & logansargeant

liked by y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, yourmomsig & others

youruser: gang's back together 🤘

pinned youruser: welcome back to america @/logansargeant glad you could join us! -> user: i love how she seems sarcastic but i know babes is so happy he's back

user: logan living out his frat dreams

user: this would be logan daily if he didn't go into racing

user: wait i'm confused... who's this? -> user: y/n y/ln! from what we know, her and logan are best friends since they were born or something. she finished her undergrad, but i think she's doing law school now (?)

user: i ship -> user: ew

y/bffsuser: not pictured is the entire drink falling out -> logansargeant: it wasn't my fault! she moved her head -> youruser: yeah okay, blame the woman -> logansargeant: i blame when she's wrong. and you are. -> user: stop they're so sibling

yourmomsig: aw no one posted the pic of y/n falling off the bed during the fight -> youruser: MOM! -> logansargeant: i tried but she stole my phone -> user: well we know who the favorite child is now

y/bffsuser: @/yourprivuser no photo creds -> user: IS THAT Y/N'S PRIVATE USER???!!! I NEED TO BE ACCEPTER NOWWW this comment thread has been deleted

oscarpiastri has requested yourprivuser!

y/bffspodcast

liked by user, user, oscarpiastri & others

y/bffspodcast: surprise episode out now! take a listen for exclusive deets on logan's love life, his best friends, and the time he almost became a dad to a baby crocodile

tagged: logansargeant

user: i'm sorry, logan did WHAT NOW?

user: A CROCODILE?? -> user: well he does live in florida

user: it's a crime that y/n and oscar haven't met before. i need the irl best and the f1 bestie to get together and spill tea on logan -> oscarpiastri: well we might have to change that this weekend -> user: OSCAR??!! PLEASE DO IT! I BEG!

Y/BFFS PODCAST - TRANSMISSION timestamp: 4:40-8:23

y/bff: i mean, you've known y/n your whole life, right?

logan: my whole life, yup. like, i was maybe only a few hours old when i saw her for the first time. you already know this, but like we have the same birthday, december 31st 2000. and we're also born at the same time, in the same hospital, literally right across the hall from each other.

YB: same time? like seriously? how did i not know that?

LS: *laughs* i mean, same time. down to the minute, at least. it's why we call each other 'twin', we're born at the same time. and like our parent knew each other and joked that we might be born on the same day... little did they know

YB: *laughing* that's insane. oh my gosh, and you guys have just been best friends since then. i love that. i assume you're the one who's got all the younger high school stories about her. i got some college ones, but you have the real gold mine, don't you?

LS: i've got my fair share of our insane stories, yeah

YB: mind sharing one?

LS: i'm trying to think of one that's not absolutely insane... oh okay! so one time, we were in the pool, it was summer, and then y/n just stops trying to murder me with the pool noodle and goes still. i'm confused as hell, so i'm trying to see what she's doing but she tells me to shut up. she's watching the bushes around the pool, so i swim to the edge of the pool next to her, and the two of us are just watching the bushes. i have no idea what's going on, but y/n's waiting for something. and then, a baby croc starts walking out of it, and it's so small, but like it's mom was nowhere. we didn't know what to do. and y/n *laughs* y/n goes, "oh we have to adopt it". i'm like what? but she just start spiraling "oh we're his parents now. he just saw us. what if the mom died? i don't know how to feed a baby croc? but i have to learn, it's my baby croc now." finally she calms down, and we get everything sorted out, but she cried when we had to leave the baby crocodile. adopted it and all within three seconds of seeing it

YB: *laughing* i'm dead, oh my god that sounds like her though. that's so fucking funny, she made you a crocodile dad!

Y/N ADJUSTED HER SUNGLASSES, the Miami sun nearly blinding her as she walked towards the paddock. Next to her, her racer best friend, Logan Sargeant, nearly skipped along next to her. She could feel his excitement at being able to race so close to home again, and it honestly helped lift her own spirits.

Logan smiled and waved at some cameras and fans nearby, grinning brightly and taking the time to stop and sign some stuff. Once the fans had trickled away, Logan made his way back to his best friend, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked, turning his head away from the cameras so they couldn't read his lips.

"I'm great," she promised.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "We can say you were sick, or you weren't feeling well, or you just forgot, or-"

"-That I have diarrhea?" Y/N grinned a little. "You know, all of your solutions to this thing seem to involve me just running away or ignoring it."

"I mean, it's how you take on most of life," he shrugged.

"I've never felt more called out in life," she rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got a plan. I head over to the garage first, take a few pics, then say 'oh I have to go. I haven't even been to Williams' garage yet'. I've got this Logie, I promise. Besides, I don't even hate him. If I did, there would be a lot more violence threatened and swearing involved. I also would've blocked him."

Logan didn't look necessarily convinced, but he didn't argue either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, send me a 911 text. I'll be on standby the entire time, I swear."

Y/N smiled at the boy, waving goodbye as she dropped him off to the Williams garage.

"I know you'll be there," she smiled. "It's what we do. Be there for each other."

MEANWHILE, IN THE MCLAREN GARAGE, the Aussie driver was pacing back and forth, turning back to the entrance every few seconds.

"Yeah, great job at being subtle, Osc," Lando Norris, his teammate, commented sarcastically. "Who're you even waiting for?"

"Y/N," Oscar answered simply.

Normally, he'd engage in banter with his Brit teammate, but he was too nervous to give answers longer than a few words. He was finally going to see Y/N, in person. Not on the other side of a screen, not a flash of hair that ran away too quickly, not a caller ID he'd see on Logan's phone all too often. After all these years, he was finally going to be able to see her, face to face.

He had to admit, he did seem a little pathetic trying to contact her. But the DM he'd sent years ago on her public account had never gone through. And he'd left it, thinking maybe they weren't meant to know each other, simply to know of each other.

But then he'd seen her private instagram, with so few followers, he knew that she wouldn't be able to miss it. But maybe she didn't use it, or maybe it was an old account, but he had no luck on that account either.

He finally mustered the courage to ask Logan for her number and just reach out. He was surprised and a little shocked she said yeah, but he was in too deep now to change his mind.

"Oooh, who's Y/N?" Lando teased. "Is she a girlfriend?"

Oscar whipped his head towards his teammate, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Why are you a literal child?" he asked. "Y/N's a friend. Well, she's a friend of Logan's. His best friend. And everyone found out the two of us never met each other, and they went crazy saying we have to meet and whatnot. So I invited her here to take a few pictures."

Lando tilted his head, almost as if he was dissecting the truth behind Oscar's words.

"Logan? Logan Sargeant's best friend? Her name's Y/N?"

"Yes, Lando. And everyone says I'm his best friend in racing, so we have to meet or something."

"Alright, I believe you," Lando decided. "Call me when she gets here, I want to take pictures with her too."

"Sure," Oscar answered nonchalantly.

Turns out, there was no need to call him over, because a second after he'd said that, she walked in.

Oscar stared at her as she looked around the garage, her eyes drinking in just how different it was from the Williams' garage that she was used to.

Lando made a noise between a snort and a laugh, causing Oscar to glare at him.

"No, nothing," Lando nodded to himself, ignoring Oscar's silent question. He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting across the garage, "Y/N!"

Her head whipped over to the sound of her name, her posture relaxing the slightest bit as she realized it was only Lando and Oscar and not some random person. She didn't exactly know them, never even met them, but she knew enough of them to be a little comfortable.

She smiled slightly as she reached them, "Hey. How are you guys?"

Lando looked to Oscar, who simply stared at Y/N, before decided to take the reigns. "We're good, thanks for asking. I'm Lando, my friend here is Oscar, and I assume you already know that."

"Yeah, I watch enough F1 to know that," she smiled, falling into easy conversation with the Brit.

"Well it's nice to know you didn't take an invitation from a man who's name you didn't know," Lando joked. "That's what I call important information."

"I went a step further and made sure he was known by a friend of mine," Y/N continued the banter. "My best friend." She turned to acknowledge Oscar, "Logan spoke highly of you for a long time now. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he nodded. "I mean, Logan's spoke a lot about you too. All the time. He still does. It's nice to meet you too."

Oscar resisted the urge to close his eyes and curse himself out.

Y/N didn't seem to mind his stuttering and stumbling. In fact, her posture seemed to straighten out a bit, and her smile turned a little bit more warm.

She was beginning to realize that no matter how bad Logan had gotten it, Oscar was human too. He was new to this, and he probably had someone defending him the way she defended Logan. Maybe she was a little harsh on him. She just didn't like how it wasn't fair.

It was why she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to try and make things fair for people.

But in defending Logan with her entire heart and soul... she was being unfair to Oscar. She could try and be nice. It's only for a few minutes. After that, she could go back to avoiding him.

"So, how do you wanna do the pictures?" Y/N asked. "We should get them done now, I might have to leave early if my laptop doesn't work. I have a few assignments due."

"Right, yeah," Oscar nodded. "We can- uh-"

"The lighting's nice over there," Lando pointed out. "I'll take the picture of you guys."

"You don't wanna be in it?" Y/N asked.

"No, I'm alright," Lando smiled. "Unfortunately, I'm not best friends with Logan, unlike you two. Besides, I'm pretty good with a camera."

Y/N frowned at the reminder that Lando was one of the drivers who wasn't friends with Logan. She quickly fixed her expression, but Oscar noticed (only because he'd has his eyes on her ever since she entered). He was tempted to ask her about it, but she smiled and his brain froze up.

"Alright then, let's take the picture."

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: miami, you were fun 🤍

tagged: logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri

pinned youruser: to my haters: fuck you, i'm always proud of logan. no matter what. i chose him as my best friend and i'll choose him again every time. i'm just sad y'all have never loved someone so much to understand what it means to always be proud of them, no matter any outcome. he's my best friend, my brother, and the outcome of race isn't going to change that

pinned youruser: i heard there was a logan's besties meet up @/oscarpiastri -> oscarpiastri: oh yeah, did you end up making it? -> youruser: swipe to find out!

landonorris: same time next race ��👀 -> youruser: wanna do my class for me?? -> landonorris: i will understand nothing. -> oscarpiastri: as if you understand anything ever -> landonorris: all grown up now, are you? -> oscarpiastri: shut up

mclaren: it was a pleasure having you stop by! next time, you should stay for longer! -> williamsracing: stop stealing her from us

williamsracing: loved having you around for the weekend!

alex_albon: wowwww, i didn't even make the cut this weekend -> youruser: all the pics i took of you were 0.5s -> alex_albon: thanks for showing some mercy

user: stop she looks so pretty

user: logan bestie meet up... but where's logan? -> user: getting attacked by a haas in his home race -> user: oof

user: TELL EM GIRL!

user: i want what she and logan have. like they'd DIE for each other

oscarpiastri: it was great to finally meet you! hopefully it's not the last time either -> user: boy please TRY to be subtle

PART TWO

notes: i hope y'all liked this, don't forget to like + reblog! alsoo... comment on this part (not any others) if you want to be tagged, i might not respond but i'll add you to the taglist if you comment.

but my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

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2knightt · 8 months ago

Note

Do you think u could write abt the gang being (separately) absolutely obsessed with the reader. Like they adore everything she does, they can’t get enough of her. To the point where the rest of the gang starts releasing them abt it, meanwhile reader is like completely oblivious lol

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ heaven and hell were words to me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! the greasers are totally obsessed!

tags/warnings: no confessions—just the gang having a crush, gang being literally whipped, them being a little odd, kinda toxic!johnny LFMAO, nothing else to my knowledge

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m just working…working hard so i can please you.(shout out to ema/corvyes/loml for that ref.) but if i get a req asking me for like the gng confessing to you—i will do it. trust.

Dallas Winston

WHEN HE’S DRUNK, YOU’RE ALLLL HE TALKS ABOUT LMFAOOOO

“i’m tellin’ you—there ain’t a girl like her.”

dallas would repeat after what felt like this 5th drink of the night. buck is sick of him, two-bit regrets dragging him along, and dallas just wants to tell them how good you looked today.

when he sees you walking home, to school, or to work he WILL tag along. HE DOESN’T GAF IF YOU TELL HIM TO TAKE A HIKE!

actually, he kinda does. you’re like the only person he listens to.

LMFAOOO THE GANG THREATENS TO CALL YOU OVER WHENEVER DALLAS IS DOING SMTH STUPID

like whenever you threaten a kid ur gna tell santa.

“dallas, i’m gonna tell y/n what you did last week.”

“??if you do, i’ll beat your head in, soda.”

“YIKES..i’m gonna have to tell her that too…”

“…don’t, she’d be so mad at me😔😒.”

THE GANG TEASES DALLAS THE WORST(besides ponyboy) ABOUT YOU LFNAOAOAOAO

like they’re shoving him toward you, nudging him at even the slightest mention of you, giggling as they tell him they seen you today.

“look, it’s your girlfriend.”

“steve, shut up! she ain’t deaf!”

—

“GO SEE HER!”

“OW—i mean—hi, y/n.”

“did you…trip? or did you mean to bump into me?”

“yeah, sorry or whatever. some IDIOT back there pushed me.”

—

“guess who i saw..🥰🥰”

“who?”

“your wife…”

“can you NOT.”

despite all that, you somehow, still don’t know how he feels about you. how? we’ll never know. it’s beyond the human mind.

his friends try and hint at you that the big, bad greaser has a school girl crush on you. do you get what they’re trying to say? no. but that’s okay, you’re just a girl.

lowkey pisses dallas off but that’s okay cuz he prefers admiring from afar. DOES HOWEVER ASK YOU TO HANG OUT AND CONSIDERS THEM A DATE IN HIS HEAD TO KEEP HIM SANE LFMAO

“you wanna go see this drag race tomorrow?”

“sure! i don’t have work then. uhm, pick me up at my place!”

“alright, cool.”

‘yeah..,it’s date🥱😍’ — dallas’ brain.

Johnny Cade

‘johnny, if you even fucking stutter when you talk to her today—you’re gonna have to drink pickle juice.’

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, johnny. ‘m sorry.”

“o-oh—it’s alright.”

‘well, shit.”

he thinks he looks like such a fucking loser when he talks to you omfg😭😭

the gang tries to tell him he might have a shot but he thinks they’re just telling him that because he’s their friend. :(

HEAVILY admires from afar. like seriously he’s a fucking stalker

WAIT LMFOAOO HE’D BE THE TYPE OF GUY TO ACCIDENTALLY STALK YOU LIKE HE’D FOLLOW YOU PLACES FROM AFAR LMFAOAOAOOAOA

what a little freak

anyways

he accidentally lets things slip to let you know he’s better than any other guy trying to go after you. like if you had a shitty ex—he’s preaching that he’d ‘never treat you like that, he can’t imagine that a guy with a brain ever would.’

johnny does everything to keep your attention on HIM and nobody else when your friends try and talk to you when you two are out together. like you could be having a conversation with him and he’d be just pouting in the background with his arms crossed.

“y/n, look. they got that shirt you was talkin’ ‘bout. let’s go check it out. c’mon.” “oh—alright! bye, viv!😊” “yeah, bye viv.😒”

side eyes the gang whenever they bring you up in conversation

“johnny and y/n sittin’ in a tree—“

“😒🤨”

“alright.”

he tries to subtly hint that he really likes you and that you’re his type but it’s not subtle at ALL.

“y’know, if i were to have a girlfriend, i’d wish she was like you.”

—

“my type? uhm, it’d probably be someone-“ and he goes on to describe you.

Ponyboy Curtis

‘holy fuck that’s literally y/n walking towards me??!! does she know i’m here—does she even know me-wow she looks good in red. i mean—SHE’S WAVING OH MY GOD.’

HE IS SUCH A WRECK I CANTTT

ponyboy is the type to stare off into space in your direction and dream about how well he’d treat you if he was your man!!

yk how bitches be like ‘my man, my man!’ whenever they talk about their crush?? he’s all ‘my girl, my girl!’ WUAGRMRNEE

the gang was so confused on why he was so eager to go to school all of a sudden?? and why he cares about his appearance just slightly more than usual?? …is that soda’s shirt he’s wearing?-

two-bit was the first one to realize what was happening when he seen ponyboy and you talk in the halls. that wasn’t the giveaway, though.

it was the way he stared at you like you were the only girl alive and everyone else was just gone. two-bit was almost moved to tears to see ponyboy all grown😞😞!!!

“is tha’ your girlfriend? that why you couldn’t wait ‘til monday?”

“shut up!”

“ouuu, wait until the gang hears ‘bout this!”

“YOU AIN’T TELLIN’ ‘EM NOTHIN’!”

ever since — it has been hell on earth for ponyboy. dallas brings you up every time ponyboy gets smart, johnny giggles at every kissing scene at a movie nudges him, soda and darry had to give him ‘the talk,’ (soda just made it worse by making snide remarks.) and steve never stopped poking fun at him.

two-bit tried to get you to spill the beans on how you felt about him, but all you’d do was huff and ignore him. FINE THEN😒!—is what he always thought.

soda, johnny and two-bit all let ponyboy rant about you.

“LIKE, BRO. my girl, my girl! she’s so cute and smart. LIKE SHE’S TOTALLY MY DREAM.”

—

“that’s so cute ☹️” - soda

“SHE WANTS YOU SOO BAD” - two-bit

“just go tell her, man.” - johnny

does everything to impress you stoppp 😭😭!! pony is trying harder in school, using less hair grease, wearing darry’s cheap cologne when he’s not looking, etc.

HE’S SO SILLY I LOVE HIM!!!

Sodapop Curtis

delusional king!!! yes soda, let the voices in your head tell you that she wants you so bad!!🫶🫶

swear to goddd he thinks y’all are meant to be. you tipped him when he was working at the cash register and he was sooo in love

sorry in my head he’s a hopeless romantic

cause a) you were gorgeous, b) kind enough to tip him, and c) most likely rich💯💯

when he seen you at random places with your friends—soda would get so excited LMFAOOO

STOP HE’D HOUND PONY FOR YOUR NAME

“bro they probably go to your school—just lemme look at your yearbook!”

“no??? you weirdo???”

“please??!! i’ll do the dishes or something!”

“….get me a pack of cigarettes and i’ll tell you.”

“OKAY🥰🥰”

stole them but pony never said how to get them so who gaf!!!

SODA WOULD TOTALLY WRITE YOUR FIRST INITAL + HIS LMFAOOAOAOAOAA

or he’d see who’s last name went best with curtis or your last name!!!1!1!1

he’s crazy insane over you did i say that already

whenever you come by the dx—he’d give you shit for free while you insist to pay.

“jus’ take it.”

“i can’t—i’d feel terrible.”

“it’s alright, no one has to know. right?”

he’d flash his million dollar smile, pushing your coke and chips close to you, inciting you to just take the food.

WAJENEDKD he wants u so bad it’s. so terrible.

steve hates his rambles

“YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE WAY ME AND HER WAS TALKING—SHE’S SO INTO MEEEE”

“yeah, she wants you!!! shut up now!!”

Darry Curtis

nobody knows. it’s like a top secret only darry knows. the gang has their suspicions but they can never really know why darry is suddenly so adamant on going to go get him, soda, and pony’s hair done at the salon.

they alllll can see that he only really talks to you—but at the same time he does that weird ass dad stance where they stand with their arms crossed and legs far apart LMFAOOOOO

darry thinks you’re like…model fine btw.!!!!!

BROOO WHEN YOU LIKE UNCONSCIOUSLY MASSAGE HIS HEAD WHEN YOURE CUTTING IT—HE’S SOO READY TO JUST ASK YOU OUT

darry doesn’t know what it is but goddamn!! you have him in a spell!!

“c’mon—we gotta go to the salon again.”

“….we just went?”

“TWO WEEKS AGO. it’s about time we go AGAIN.”

does in fact work a little extra just so he can see you. he’s that much of a loverboy i fear.

HE DOES ACTUALLY NOT WAIT TO ASK YOU OUT

like, among all the gang, he’s the only one mature enough to actually flirt with you properly & to ask if you’re single.

darry’s fucking down like that.

AWWHHH HE TOTALLY BUYS YOU FLOWERS AS A ‘THANK YOU’ GIFT LOL

flexs his strength around you to prove he’s worthy !!! DARRY LOVEEESSS SHOWING OFF WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING

megara + hercules methink…..

you two probably started hanging out as ‘friends.’ …yeah right!!!!

he’s driving you around as you be his pretty little passenger princess, he’s offering to buy you things when you two are out, etc, etc.

darry might not know how to show that he likes you, but trust me, the second that you look a little too far into his actions—it gets obvious.

like maybe too obvious idk.

Steve Randle

HELLLOOOO??? HE IS TOTALLY SHOWING OFF HIS GYMNASTICS MOVES AROUND YOU

“bro, bro! (yes he’d call you bro. idgaf.) watch what i can do!!😊😊” “wowwww, steve that’s so cool.”

geeks out near you. when you aren’t around the average person would see him and go ‘jesus christ, he literally might beat my ass.’ but when you’re around, they might think, ‘why is that scary looking guy talking about cars and comic books rn??’

you bring out the nerd in him in the best way possible🫶😊 BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE LIKE LIKES YOUUUUUUU

and it’s so obvious to the gang bc wdym steve told you all about DC comics while all they got was a ‘yeah, it’s alright.’ …hm…..

soda NEVER shuts the fuck up and him and his little girlfriend. NEVERRREE

“why’re you so pouty today? y/n ain’t say hi?”

“bro, shut up!”

steals for you and gives them to you all proud like he paid for it LMFAO

tries to be sooo cool around you but the second you bring up the latest batman comic he’s all “OMGOMGOMGOMG IT WAS SOO GOOD!! DID YOU SEE THE-“ he’s a loser what can i say.

dallas totally flirts with you in front of steve just to piss him off LOLLL like when he sees dallas twirling your hair around his finger steve is just all “???🤨🤨😡😡”

and then becomes your knight in shining armour and swoops you away as he glares daggers at dally!!!!<3

Two-bit Mathews

he becomes the funniest man on the planet i’m not joking

he says jokes that anybody and everybody will laugh at. just because he wants to see you laugh at what he says for his delusions

two-bit thinks like ‘she laugh=she likes me’

he’s not the brightest but it’s okay

HE MAKES IT SOOO KNOWN THAT HE LIKES YOU LFMAOOOOOO

“you’re lookin’ pretty? who’s the fella?” / “gee, i didn’t believe when they said they seen an angel walkin’ around until now.” / “well, now you owe me dinner.”

shit like that

two thinks he’s soooo smooth…smh.

DALLAS AND PONYBOY SO BADLY WANTS HIM SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY ABOUT YOU LMFAOOO

they keep on telling him just to confess already but then two gets all giggly and shy and goes “omg guys noooo🤭🤭🤭🫣🫣”

just coincidentally runs into you everywhere you go!!! (literally has eyes everywhere. he’s weird. he’s odd.)

follows you around like a lost puppy and lowkey kinda gossips. idk.

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader

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pressureplus · 3 months ago

Note

this blog is the goat i love it sm :) totally get if it's too much but i'd love drunk seb headcanons. thnx ❤️

LOVELY, YOUVE GOT THE BIGGEST BRAIN ANON /POS

♡Drunk Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡

Warnings: Intoxication, Warnings to not Fuck The Fish™️, Brief Sexual Content

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

First off, getting him drunk isn’t gonna be easy

His body is significantly bigger so it’ll take a lot more alcohol than a normal human person

That and he could already hold his drinks well, so it’ll take some work to get that man actually drunk instead of just buzzed

Don’t try to match him drink for drink, you WILL die of alcohol poisoning unless you’re an alcoholic

Which wouldn’t matter he’d still out drink you based on weight/size alone, so I guess try not to die is the only goal?

Doesn’t feel comfortable drunk around most people unless you’re BOTH that kind of tipsy or he’s already close with you

When you do actually get him drunk?

The flirtiest, giggliest drunk you’re ever met

Sebastian will laugh at literally everything, it makes him so much easier to talk with

The world is sunshine and rainbows as long as he’s really fucked up

Honestly? He deserves it. He’ll smile at you so softly and actually fully listen when you talk. Maybe he’s not the brightest, or most talkative, but he has weirdly good advice

Though he is super giggly and playful, he does flirt

Usually they’re kind of fun. They’re not meant to really invoke any real feelings

“Hey there hot stuff, you lookin for a chair?” As he pats a portion of his tail.

He WILL forget that he flirted with you later, so don’t try to corner him on it as some kind of gotcha moment. He won’t believe you.

It also doesn’t reflect his feelings entirely…well unless he really likes you.

He’ll get a bit tongue tied and may even let it slip that he thinks you’re just gorgeous

His flirting gets very personal if he has a thing for you, but it’s less frequent because the man is too busy squirming from just sitting with you

Think flustered school girl energy

If he likes you he will do ANYTHING you ask

Please don’t try to fuck the fish, he isn’t very smart and he’s not gonna be able to top you

You’d have to do 100% of the work, and he wouldn’t remember most of it tomorrow anyway

He will probably just fall into a fit of giggles at the offer, honestly, so the likelihood of it happening is like nothing

So unless you’re both so drunk you’re not thinking straight? Don’t do it. Dont even try it.

If he doesn’t like you in that way? You might actually die for attempting it. It’s not worth it.

Speaking of not worth it, that man loses so much motor function. His tail is apparently weirdly hard to control all the way

Will prefer to just sit with you and not go anywhere as he will not have the control necessary to do damn near anything

He tried only once to go do something while really fucked up

Stupid fishman got stuck in a vent for a few hours

Worst experience of his life, (drunk fishman claims) he would never ever do it again

He’s the kind of man that sings when he’s drunk too, but only if you do it with him. He mimics like a parrot.

Or if you manage to play songs with him somehow, he might sing them if he vibes with or knows the song

Get a man to sing your favorite songs horribly at an octave that outright hurts

Idk something like California Girls by Katy Perry? Have fun with it

He can’t exactly dance really well but he might do a fun little shimmy if the music pleases him enough

Have fun doing your shared little dances, drinking to forget (always remembering), and laughing about nonsense

I’m sure, as long as you get him something strong and a whole lot of it

The both of you will get along fine!

After all, he likes people that get him gifts like this a little more

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nyashykyunnie · 3 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Soulmate! Au ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 043 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I'm willing to bind myself to you] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo had always been curious about the little red string attached to his finger. He had this way before his regression. His mother always told him that he is lucky that he can see his red string, it meant that he would find his lover faster than anybody else would.

Does he, a man who really could care less about fantasy romance— Find this whole thing cheesy? Definitely.

While others would certainly start flipping rocks just to find their 'one true love'; Jinwoo did none of that.

He had priorities to deal with.

Such as suddenly becoming the patriarch of the family due to his father going missing, trying to provide care to his mother who has come down into a coma, and taking care of his dear baby sister on top of that.

Jinwoo probably got into debt in the process of trying to shoulder all the financial problems.

Would you really think he had some time for romantic relationships and much less go hunting for a needle in a haystack?

However... He did have some small chemistry with Hae-in, though, it felt more shallow than anything. After all, they only met a few times and decided to roll with it just because.

It felt... Empty so to speak.

They say that romance feels like a tidal wave, once it comes— It overwhelms you with such force you'd have nothing more choice than to kneel before it and surrender yourself to it's mercy.

But Jinwoo couldn't feel any of that with Hae-in.

Don't get him wrong, she is a wonderful person. Kind, pretty, all that and whatnot.

But what can he do if a heart does not want what it wants?

His red string wouldn't be reacting neither. Not a glow, not a tug, no nothing.

Jinwoo would eventually find himself just ignoring the little red string until the time he regresses.

Heck, he even forgot about it even if it's literally tied to his very own finger.

And as he traversed the long hallways of his school, hands shoved in his pockets while listening to his friends banter around him— He felt a soft tug on his finger.

"H-hey! Knock it off, I wanna pull for Aventurine myself!" A voice would erupt his bewilderment as a sharp tug at his finger pulls again. "Iseol!"

He looks back to see your figure running after your friend who had taken your phone.

"Huh..." Jinwoo hums, shaking his head and turning away.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo felt entirely restless after that little meeting. It's not like he caught a proper glimpse at you, your back was turned the entire time.

And yet he finds himself completely fidgety. His sister even rants that he had been pacing for hours if she wouldn't snap him out of his little trance.

Has he lost his mind over a girl he hasn't properly seen? Definitely.

Is it the effects of the red string? Not impossible.

"Goddamnit!" Jinwoo sighs, ruffling his head and flopping onto the bed.

"My liege..." Beru's small voice calls out. "My lord, you are... Anxious."

"Tell me about it" Jinwoo scoffs, groaning through his pillow.

"...My liege, I have her scent, do you wish to track he—"

"You do?!" Jinwoo perks up, staring intensely at his soldier before mentally slapping himself. "Ack... No, don't make me a creep"

He felt frustrated, why would he do that? Why should he? He might as well spend his time in jail for even trying to entertain the idea of stalking you.

Jinwoo's gaze would then absentmindedly drift towards the red string on his ring fingerz nothing how much vibrant it's color is now compared to before.

Was it your doing? Maybe.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

He told himself not to be a creep and yet found himself somewhat lingering around you. All the little things about you, he started taking note of.

From memorizing the frequent pastries you buy from the cafeteria, to the drinks you often buy from the vending machine, and even trying to overhear the games you play on your phone.

It was really just curiousity.

After all, he can't help but find it cute on the way your eyes would perk up as you ramble on to your friends about some lore or complaining about some game mechanics because of how hard it was.

Jinwoo was just about to leave you to your own devices until your voice ripped through the air—

"AVENTURINE!!!!" You cheer, standing up immediately and pacing back and forth. "HE'S HOME, AFTER SACRIFICING 30 DOLLARS FOR THIS DAMN BASTARD HE'S HOM—!!!!"

Your heart dropped immediately as your shoe got caught over on a crack— And for sure you were going to land but instead a hand would reach out to hold your shoulder and keep you steady.

"Easy there," Jinwoo says, helping you stand straight.

"!!!!" You panic, pulling away with your face entirely flushed. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to!..."

"Wait, calm down—...." Jinwoo wasn't even given a second any longer to speak as you dashed away in a frenzy.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Your heart is beating out of your chest, your lungs are barely catching any breath as you coughed, the noises you made akin to whistles while trying to gasp out for air.

It's tight.

Painful.

Your hands are sweating, trembling as if it's suffering from frostbite.

Is it fear?

No.

It's just how you react after being way too dangerously close to the person you adored so much.

His eyes.

God those grey eyes.

Long lashes, a high nose bridge, thin peach lips, and that agonizingly relaxing scent on him— Gods.

Not to mention his height, he was like a tower. And those broad shoulders underneath his baggy clothing that hid the muscular form underneath—

Sung JInwoo will be the death of you.

You had been avoiding him ever since coming here.

How long has it been?... Ah... It's been 3 years since you arrived in this world.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It was supposed to be your doctor's appointment. Since you have arrived an hour earlier from your check-up, you decided to stroll around the mall first.

Okay, you weren't really taking a stroll.

Your strides are purposeful and hurried, the goal is clear:

Get to the bookstore.

As you recalled, it should be at the other end of the mall.

It didn't matter how long you're going to walk, you needed to see if it's there. Nothing is more important than that.

Taking the elevator down and nearly having a heart attack from the sound of it creaking as it took you to the lower level; you stepped out and dashed immediately to the entrance.

Glancing around like a madman, you scoured the large and intimidating place before deciding to enter completely and attempt to look for the section you needed to be in.

Passing by interesting books wasn't the goal, and after almost 3 minutes of going in circles you finally saw the section you needed to be in.

As soon as your eyes landed on the cover of the book you have been searching for— You had to swallow your squeals.

Your hands however? They were shaking so bad.

You paced back and forth for a bit before finally deciding to reach out on the book and take it out of it's shelf cautiously.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pry open the thing and feel your heart flutter.

"Jinwoo-ah...." You mumble, giggling quietly as your eyes dilate into heart shapes at the sight of the precious man you cannot stop obsessing over.

Carding your digits carefully on the fine paper, your stroke Jinwoo's face on the page delicately like you were handling the most fragile little thing ever.

You can't help but admire him all the more as you silently freak out like a madman in the aisle.

He was so handsome.

And now that you can physically run your fingers across the pages while crushing on him felt a whole lot different.

You had about a decent amount of money on you, it should be fine. As you reach for your little bag, you hear some crackling above your head.

The next thing you knew? You were suddenly shrouded in darkness.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You assume you must have died that day while shopping for your first ever solo leveling purchase. After all, you suddenly woke up in an unfamiliar apartment.

It tooka while to get used to it, but apparently you're in seoul living alone in a decent apartment with a black card containing a lot of money.

Complaints? Nowhere.

— Except that Solo Leveling doesn't exist in this world.

Did you have a literal mental breakdown over it? He yeah.

Big tears, pathetic sniffles and nasty snot. All that.

You cried like a toddler just because you cant do your monthly ritual of rereading solo leveling and admiration of Jinwoo anymore.

So with salty tears you grab a pencil and paper to start sketching him down. If you can't read, mind as well draw the image of him when it's still fresh.

It took 3 weeks to recover, and in ur room, your desk is full of Jinwoo's sketches. It isn't the same as the manhwa but it's the best you could do.

It took another 2 to finally come to terms with your new reality.

You're rich, mind as well live life, right?

You even enrolled to a highschool. After all, k-dramas are always centered around that part of life. Why not experience it yourself?

After successfully buying all of your school materials, you glance down at your ring finger and notice a delicately tied red string.

Huh...

That wasn't there yesterday.

Picking at it and attempting to take it off didn't work. So after an hour of struggling, you gave in and let it be.

Maybe the string was proof that you had died.

And maybe it was a sign that this is your purgatory. Or not, everything is way too normal except for no Jinwoo.

So heh....

But ah, it wasn't part of your plans to see a figure... Way too familiar.

Tall, dark, and handsome.

Three words and you associate it with only one person.

Amidst the crowd of students lined up on the grounds your eyes zeroed in instantly on a single boy who stood out amongst everyone.

No way... Right?

That piercing gaze, the fluffy hoodie, and a glove on his left hand.

That was Jinwoo's appearance when he regressed in time and went into highschool.

Shit.

Isn't your uniform similar to Jinah's?

You should've realized in the first place.

Wait no, you're not really mad it's just!... Jinwoo... Seeing him on the crowd, the probability of meeting him in the hallways isn't zero.

How are you going to survive? Is this why there isn't solo leveling in this world?

Because this world is where the protagonist lives?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

And that is the story of how you arrived here in this world. During the 2 months of being in school, you occasionally passed by Jinwoo, and in each fleeting moment you had to hide in the washroom to try and calm yourself from your panic. Your heart would beat as if it's going to explode, your breathing would be erratic each time that you cant really take a breath.

You always knew that meeting him will quite take a toll on you because you loved him so much, but you didn't think it would be this bad that you look like you're having a panic attack.

Stay Calm.

You need to stay calm. If you pass out from fangirling over your precious idol it'll be embarassing as hell.

Calm down.

You need to calm down.

It's not like he actually saw you, it'll be fine.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

No, it wasn't fine.

Somehow, crossing paths with Jinwoo became more uncharacteristically frequent. It's to the point that you needed to actively avoid his usual walking routes.

Is it stupid to hide from someone who has the ability to locate anyone at any given moment? Yes.

Will you still keep doing it? Yes.

You don't hate Jinwoo, you just cant handle being around him knowing how much adoration you hold inside your heart and knowing that he will never be yours.

It should be around this season when Jinwoo asks Chae Hae-in out and kisses her under the falling snow.

It isn't december 24th yet but... Does it matter?

She's so lucky, having someone like him to admire her.

The only thing you have with you is a lonely life with money.

As well as this stupid red string wrapped around your finger.

What is it meant to represent anyway? A lover?

Surely not.

Who would love you?

The sad, pathetic, lonely, and broken you who doesn't belong in this world.

Just like your previous life and this one, you feel an awful sense of alienation that is unpleasant. The kind of loneliness that eats at your heart every single day.

"Ah, you're here?" A voice from behind you makes you jump and instantly whip your head around.

"A-ah..." You panic, recognizing the familiar grey eyes.

"Now, don't even run away." Jinwoo simply says, smiling.

It made you gulp honestly, something about that grin made you feel like he's willing to pull you into the land of eternal rest if you do.

"U-uhm..." You sputter, fidgeting.

"Not even wearing gloves in this weather?" He inquires, pulling the gloves off of his hands and gently taking yours.

"..."

The red string on your finger tingled, glowing softly as the broken ends binded itself to the strings on Jinwoo's finger.

"How cute" Jinwoo interrupts the silence. "Even if you run away now, these strings will keep us binded."

"W-wait!" You panic, utterly confused as you look up at him.

"I won't force myself on you," He says, his gaze moving from the strings to your eyes. "But I do want to court you properly,... If you'll let me."

"....."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"That's the story of how me and your daddy got together," You hum softly, caressing your fingers softly against your stomach that is now holding a four month old growing baby.

"What a cute bedtime story," Jinwoo chuckles, approaching from the door and pecking your forehead. "Now, shouldn't you be asleep, hm? My pretty wife needs a lot of rest since you're carrying our little ball of sunshine"

"I just couldn't help it..." You pout at him, and he only pinches your cheek before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

"Mhm, I can tell" He shakes his head while gently pulling the blanket over you. "Go to sleep, jagiya. I still need to shower after a long day at the office"

"Please hurry..." You ask softly, tugging at his sleeve.

"I will" Jinwoo promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead again. "So go to sleep."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Sorry for the inactiveness ahhh... I'm quite burnt out as of late and I've been doing some commissions as well as running errands www. I'll postpone the cai requests for a bit longer ahhh... I have to make assassin au too ejshrgshs. Oh well, here's to praying I figure out wth I want to do with assassin au ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader fics #solo leveling fics #solo leveling x reader fics #ore dake level up na ken #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanoncs #sung jinwoo fics #‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings

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wonton4rang · 6 months ago

Note

how would bnd legal line react to them making you squirt for the first time?

(love your acc btw!😙)

hiii <33 ofc !! (I luv yours too💖💖)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: bnd legal line (everyone but woonhak)

warnings: smut +18, squirting, unprotected sex (do not try at home !!) and I think that's about it.

summary: how would bnd legal line (everyone but woonhak) react to them making you squirt for the first time.

note: please send something about woonhak :') i want to write something about him so bad but i am ✨blank✨, what do y'all think about high school crush with ot6?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho; he is such a giver I'm afraid, his top priority would be make you enjoy the whole thing, that doesn't mean that he won't take care of himself, though. so when you guys are having some intimacy for the first time in a while, you are very overwhelmed, he could tell by the way you were moaning his name into his ear and pressing your hands in his wide naked back. you were so sensitive that your pussy kept clenching around his dick, making him leave the crook of your neck to look into your eyes without stopping his pace "you good, baby? feeling good?" he would try to reassure himself and when you nodded and let out a cry he got his answer. "please, sungho, I'm going to-" your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he just kept going while attentively listening to you. "I'm coming, I'm coming, sungho, pull out" but he knew that was not true, not with the way your arms grabbed around his neck and your hips started to thrust up. but when you actually came your eyes flew open and sungho's did too, his movements coming to a stop while he looked at your eyes and the place where you two were linked. "I'm so sorry-", "you squirted?" you got nervous because you thought he might get angry for the mess, he was such a clean person so you stuttered before he continued "did you feel that good, y/n? you look so pretty right now" his smile made your muscles relax and you just laughed a bit, he helped you get clean because he just noticed that he also came after that event so you both just went to bed afterwards.

riwoo; i honestly think he would be soooo proud of himself, he is so sweet but i can see him being very into passionate sex, touching your body with precise hands to reach every single nerve that drives you crazy. he would not be a very vocal one when it comes to talking but I can definitely seeing him smiling at you with so much appreciation that it just melts you, giving in to his touches and opening your legs more so that your pelvis can touch in more depth. he's so into you (quite literally) that he doesn't even feels when you squirt all over him, he can only hear your moans and cries while your pussy clenched around him and made him cum too. "baby, I'm so sorry" you muttered when you saw him looking down with panicked eyes, riwoo's eyes pawned to yours and he said "I'm so sorry, I came inside, babe, I-" but he couldn't even finish the sentence when he added "you came so hard?" he was slightly surprised but again, his chest inflated in a way his shame went away after you reassured him that it was fine that he came inside. he kissed you so softly and whispered against your lips just how much he loved you and how intrigued he was with this new discovery.

jaehyun; you guys would be touching each other in his bed, kissing since half an hour ago and both of your bottoms already left behind, your left hand was jerking him off, his middle and anular finger pushed deep inside your soaked cunt while his tongue played yours in a way only him could. you had your eyes shut closed and your legs started to shake before you tried to close them too, the action alerted jaehyun who cut the kiss to look at your blushed face "did I hurt you?" he softly asked before trying to pull his fingers out of you but your hand stopped him while you shake your head in denial "it feels so good but I'm scared I might... you know... make a mess" jaehyun did not understood what you meant by that right away, only picking up on it a few seconds later when you lowered your head. "oh... oh! if you say it because of me, I don't mind! in fact, that'd be great" he encouraged you "but your sheets" a shush made you silent and his lips were on yours again for a short fraction of time before his fingers flicked up inside of your pussy "you can soak my sheets, baby, please cum for me" and the way his fingers moved in your insides was crazy, the tips of his digits constantly hitting that bulge of nerves when he curled them, his lips making you breathless and your own hand being thrusted into when you couldn't concentrate on moving it anymore. it was so hot, so exciting, your tights got tense and you tried to close your legs again but it was useless, he made you come with the last two thrusts and the way his hand and leg got wet with your squirt made you feel ashamed, just so he could kiss you again with that dumb smile in his lips "you think we could do this again sometime?" you just punched him playfully in his shoulder before he helped you up and led you to the bathroom, giving you some towels so you could shower before cuddling all night in his couch.

taesan; shower sex with taesan was not a weird thing, in fact, you guys did it pretty often since you both came tired from work but still wanted to share some intimacy so you showered together and one thing took to the other. like now, one of your legs being held up by your boyfriend, your arms holding on his shoulders and you two kissing like two addicts, so desperately that it was almost obscene, loud kissing noises coming out of your mouths when your tongues met each other. "can i go in, love?" you would just nod and resume the kiss, your pussy pulsating when you felt taesan's dick slide through your folds and then press in your wet entrance. "please, baby, go in" he loved when you were so sensitive for him, so willing, so ready, it turned him on like a flame, so he just pushed inside, throwing his head back with a low groan, his wet hair flicked back when he came back to face your contorned face, a grin on his lips that made you wanna cry. "hold on tight, pretty, i can't take it slow right now" and you certainly did not needed him be slow, so when he started thrusting into you, you just let him, your boobs wiggling with every thrust he gave you, feeling him so deep made you dizzy. "tae... slow down a bit" but he didn't want to, and neither did you. "just a little bit more, y/n, please" and how could you say no when you were feeling so good it made you drool all over your chin, only to be kissed aggressively by your pretty boyfie before you could feel him lowering his body so he could grab your other leg and pick you up, he pushed your legs up and practically pressed you against the shower wall. that friction between his pelvis and yours was all you needed before squirting all over him, his dick falling off your cunt only for him to lick his lips at the sight and push back in, making you gush and moan loudly about how overstimulated you felt. "you're so good for me, love, I'm almost done, just a little more" but when he finally came with two harsh thrusts, you squirted again, making him laugh a little before letting you go back in your feet. "good thing that we decided to do this here, you made such a mess" he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and kissed you softly, he was not surprised but he was definitely going to induce you more in order to see this show again.

leehan; it was a great idea for you guys to live in an apartment complex with pool, especially when your house was the penthouse and had a personal pool and jacuzzi in the rooftop. it was great for spending time or even to invite your friends over, but leehan had something else in mind for today, inviting you to swim with him at 12am and excusing himself by saying that there was too much sun in the afternoon. you didn't mind, it was just a few steps until the rooftop and you liked to swim AND spend time with your boyfriend so it was a win win. as soon as you guys got there he jumped in the pool, making you giggle while you turned around it to sit in the edge before jumping in but his hands stopped you when they held your tights from inside the pool "you look so pretty with that bikini" he managed to whisper with his low voice, his fingers grabbing around the waistband of your panties and pulling a little bit before you stopped his hand with yours "what are you doing?" you looked around a little panicked "you know this is a public area, right?" a shrug was your answer before he came closer to you, his chin resting in your tights before he spoke up "let me eat you out, y/n" you could never get used to how direct his words were, a blush running through your cheeks as you tried to talk him out of it but when leehan had something fixed in his mind, it was useless. so that's how you ended up with your legs spread open in the edge of the pool while he eagerly ate you out, his tongue wetting your whole cunt, flicking your clit for a bit before slowly and deeply thrusting into your gapping hole with his tongue. he kept placing open mouth kisses in your pussy and he now got his right thumb to play with your clit, his other hand keeping your legs open. it was all so sexy, especially when you grabbed his wet long hair to press him more into your pussy and practically grind on his face, and he just let you, he loved every single thing that was happening. but when he got two fingers in you without notice, you opened your eyes wide, receiving a kiss in your lips when he jumped out the pool to lay you down in the floor instead, kissing your lips with hunger and madly curling his fingers to hit your spot, needless to say that you came undone a few seconds after the switch, squirting all over his hand only for him to leave your lips and kiss your pussy instead, tasting your squirt with some satisfied moans against your cunt that sent shivers through your spine due to the vibrations. "stop doing that" you told him, you were just so ashamed for everything right now. "you think you can do it again? I want you to cum in my mouth now" yes, your boyfriend was crazy and he was not going to rest until you squirted all over his pretty face.

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this progressively got longer but I ain't even regretting, hope y'all enjoyed~ 🫶

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor x reader #leehan smut #leehan x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #riwoo smut #riwoo x reader #taesan smut #taesan x reader #sungho smut #sungho x reader

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wheneverfeasible · 3 months ago

Text

🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thanks for the tag @stervrucht!

So I was literally just thinking about Sugar Daddy Steddie with rockstar Eddie, coincidentally enough…

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Okay so get this. Eddie Munson is some fucking metal legend. Corroded Coffin made it big, right? Right out of high school some scout saw them playing and swooped them up immediately, and before you knew it they were household names. Even people who don’t listen to metal know who they are.

And look, Steve Harrington? Metal is so not his scene. That much is obvious with his striped polos and overly large noise cancelling headphones, but he’s there in the crowd, front row, with a pack of teenagers scampering about. Obviously not his own, but he’s watching them, a glorified babysitter. He looks kind of bitchy, but the occasional fond smile settles over his lips as he takes in the lot who are having the time of their lives.

They all have backstage passes and are there for Dustin’s birthday because Corroded Coffin is his all-time favorite band and he’s always wanted to meet the guy he idol worships. They go backstage, meet the band, and it’s great. Fantastic even. The band is a lot more down to earth than Steve had been expecting, and there’s no naked ladies or drugs in obvious places, so he decides maybe they aren’t too terrible.

Except the frontman keeps hitting on Steve.

At first it was startling, because Steve isn’t some cheap whore (no hate to actual cheap whores, Steve is 100% sex work positive, but he’s there as a babysitter), but Eddie doesn’t spend the whole time hitting on Steve. He actually spends the majority of it talking to Dustin and the others, and he gives way more free shit to the teens than was agreed upon with the backstage passes, and he and the rest of the band sign anything and everything the teens want.

(Eddie also offers to sign Steve’s tits, which gets him a flat glare.)

And that should be it when they leave. Except Eddie slips Steve his number. For when he’s not acting a babysitter.

And that’s the thing. When Steve isn’t in babysitter mode? Fuck. Eddie Munson could get it.

Steve might not be a whore, but he is a bit of a slut. And Eddie had been far more charming that he let it be revealed, not least of which being because of how he handled Dustin and the others, especially sweet El. He’d absolutely beamed when she called his outfit “bitchin’” and there was no artifice there.

Now, Steve wasn’t some groupie, but…he wasn’t opposed to hooking up with a hot rockstar in a band he couldn’t really care about if it got him some good dick.

And good dick he gets. But first, Eddie actually takes him out, taking him out to a really nice and fancy restaurant, despite Steve not dressing for the occasion expecting this to be a hit-it-and-quit-it situation, but Eddie pays off the staff to look the other way. After all, Eddie’s not really dressed all that appropriately either.

Then Eddie takes him for an honest-to-god moonlit carriage ride around the park, complete with flowers and cheesy romantic music. Steve would like to say he was unaffected, but it really did it for him. He was a romantic sap but he was used to being the one always having to be the giver, never the receiver. It was…nice. And sweet, because god, Eddie Munson was secretly a sweetheart when you got him alone.

And then, after the sweet and romantic date, the two of them have the most disrespectful sex of Steve’s life.

He can’t get enough of it.

He knows what this is, however. He knows someone like Eddie Munson probably does this every tour, picking up some random person and wining and dining them and then teaching them things that would make the Kama Sutra blush.

Except, when he sneaks out Eddie’s room in the hotel penthouse in the morning, bruised and rumpled in all the right ways, the rest of the band lounging in the sitting room are as surprised to see him as he is to see them. Because, it turns out, apparently Eddie doesn’t do this. At least not to the extent he showed Steve.

No one was ever asked to stay until morning, at least.

But Steve has to go home, and he thinks that’s it. But then Eddie comes out and asks for a second date when he tries to leave. Offers more backstage passes to the next show for the kids, and Steve is hesitant to say yes, and that’s when Eddie hits him with another surprise.

Eddie says that he doesn’t care that Steve is a babysitter or a nanny or whatever, he isn’t doing this out of pity over Steve’s financial issues, which he accompanies with a slight tug at the worn and slightly frayed edges of Steve’s polo. He says that he just wants to treat Steve right because Steve deserves it. That he wants to buy him pretty things and shower him with whatever he wants. Wants to keep having the sweetest dates with the most disrespectful sex with him.

And Steve…well. Steve is stumped.

Sure, he’s wearing old clothes, but he thought he was just having a dick appointment. And yeah, he was a babysitter, but the teens were actually weirdly his friends despite the age differences, not to mention many were the younger siblings of his other, more age appropriate friends. And yeah, Steve had blushed when Eddie mentioned going to a fancy restaurant and said he didn’t have the money for it, but that’s because he left his wallet behind because, as previously stated, he’d thought this was just a dick appointment.

But you see, Steve Harrington was the CEO of a major international corporation that had been in the Harrington family for generations who, once Steve took the helm from his father, had also recently begun work in far more charitable organizations and activities. His company was, in fact, one of the major donors that supported the arena in which Corroded Coffin had just played in last night. The company’s logo, a small crown with the company’s initials, was printed on all the tickets and on the backstage passes.

How else would Steve have been able to afford over half a dozen of them if he was living on just a babysitter’s salary.

Yet, here was Eddie, offering to be his…sugar daddy?

Steve would have laughed, was tempted to even, but Eddie looked so genuine and earnest and like truly all he wanted was to spend more time with Steve.

And really. Steve was so used to having to be the one to provide luxuries for his dates, to be the one in charge, to always have to give give give. Maybe, just maybe, he could play along with Eddie’s utter misunderstanding and take just a little bit. He’d pay Eddie back when the rockstar got bored of him and moved on, so really, what was the harm?

So yeah, Steve just smiles and says Okay, Daddy, and accepts the goddamn gifts Eddie had apparently already bought for him even before their date, and he lets himself have his fun.

After all, it’s not like it’s gonna turn into anything long lasting, right? Nothing serious, right? And there’s absolutely no way that they could ever fall in love…

…right?

Aaaaand yeah. Other things that I envision could pop up in the story:

Robin is his best friend and works for him with international clients due to being polylingual. She discovers what is going on and calls him a dingus. She also wants all the gossip.

Dustin finds a diamond studded collar in his bedroom that says “Babygirl” and asks if Steve is getting a dog. He was looking for something to wear to impress a date and Steve forgot Eddie’s latest gift was still on his bed.

Steve is in full sugar baby mode when they accidentally run into one of Steve’s business associates and/or they are at one of the venue locations Steve secretly owns and he’s trying desperately to hide anything that might have his name or face on it.

In the end, Steve starts buying Eddie expensive gifts too which freaks Eddie out because he doesn’t want Steve to waste what little money he has on him. Or so he thinks.

Some big angsty misunderstandings and the truth finally being revealed. It ends with them agreeing to spoil each other, but only Steve gets to be called “Babygirl” and Eddie remains “Daddy”. Everyone is sick of how in love they are.

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @viviseawrites @steddieassheg0es @stevesbipanic (if you’ve previously been tagged, just ignore me!)

#tag you’re it #wriggly wednesday #brain worm wednesday #steddie au #sugar baby steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #sugar daddy eddie munson #sugar daddy steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #plot thots

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forjongseong · 1 year ago

Text

pine-fresh // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: slytherin!jay x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: hogwarts!au, somewhat rivals to lovers, smut (minors dni)

warning: profanity, a lot of making out, fingering // word count: ~4k

summary: a dash of bickering and a whole lot of miscommunication in Potions class landed you and Slytherin's Park Jongseong in detention. did you ask for it? no. did you regret it? also, no.

author's note: at last, the Slytherin!Jay of my imagination has now, sort of, come to life...

ever since I came across that edit you see on the header, I've thought about him A LOT. now that his hair is actually silver, I have thought about him MORE. especially when @jaylaxies made this, which I thought about ALSO a lot... let's just say that Slytherin!Jay has been occupying my mind a lot more than I expected.

my knowledge on the HP universe is quite limited, so please excuse if some scenes don't seem too believable (like Snape somewhat being less strict here, or detention being scrubbing the bathroom). the title of this fic refers to the password that is needed to enter the Prefects' bathroom.

now, I know I say when I post oneshots I intend for them to be standalone fics, meaning that I most likely won't write a part two. but for this one??? if a lot of you like it, and a lot of you ask for it, I might be open to writing a sequel (once I conduct a lengthy research on Hogwarts grounds)

anyway, I hope you enjoy this little treat! I'm trying to shake off my writer's block, so please expect secretary!Jay to return soon.

taglist: @jaylaxies @excusememissiloveyou @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @maggstar @bucketofhiros @shinkenprincess-oh @mydarlingjay @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

permanent taglist is open! send an ask or DM if you want to be tagged.

As your House’s Prefect and one of the smartest students at school, you thought it would be impossible to dislike a class. Getting good grades in almost every subject seemed to prove that you liked learning everything, but by God, you hated Potions. Other than the fact that the lessons took place in a literal dungeon, which made it colder than any of the classrooms above, you always had to deal with the unpleasant smell of whatever was brewing in the room. Add the inconvenient detail that half of the class consisted of Slytherin students, which was more than you could tolerate.

You did not know when it started, maybe since the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor or when you witnessed one of your classmates getting teased by a Slytherin, but you had a strong aversion to anything related to that house. It became so bad to the point that whenever you got paired with a Slytherin for an assignment, all you wanted to do was to get the job done quickly for the both of you so you could leave the class as soon as possible.

“Miss L/N,” called Professor Snape. Your head snapped up and you locked eyes with him, somehow convincing him that you had been listening to all his instructions despite staring into the empty vials on your table. “Today you’ll be working with Park Jongseong.”

You nodded softly and once Snape turned his head towards another student, you made an audible groan and leaned back on your chair.

“You don’t sound so happy to be paired with me.”

Jay took the now unoccupied seat beside you and sat with a force that made his robe flutter. The flash of green caught your eye, and you hesitantly pulled your books to your side, making room for his on the table.

“I’ll handle the mixing,” you replied, completely unrelated to his remark.

Jay frowned before letting out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I guess you really aren’t in the mood today.”

You turned your head only slightly enough to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, and his response was just a huff to his face, messing up the silver bangs on his forehead. The sound of Professor Snape’s voice caught your attention, so you straightened up and listened intently, but also noticed how Jay was mimicking you. Once you were all instructed to begin, Jay grabbed his quill and started making notes for the recipe.

For the first couple of minutes, the process went well. You were mixing and adding stuff according to Jay’s dictation. However, after he misread the measurements for a certain ingredient, causing your brew to bubble uncontrollably, you began scolding him and blaming him for everything.

“What’s distracting you? How could you have misread that?” You half-shouted, a handkerchief in your hand as you attempted to clean up your surroundings.

“Maybe if you weren’t shaking so much when you’re holding the vials then I could have paid more attention,” Jay retorted, snatching a vial from your other hand to prevent more spills. “We should switch. You tell me what to do and I’ll redo everything.”

“That will take us even longer, and everyone else is already halfway done,” you complained as you looked around the class. You saw Professor Snape eyeing your table.

“Do you have another solution?” Jay asked, staring back at you.

You reluctantly agreed to switch tasks, but it turned out that Jay was worse than you. He kept spilling liquid, pouring more than needed, and overall causing more chaos than when he was just giving you instructions. Your grunts and groans were starting to gain the attention of the whole classroom, and by the time you were almost done, the bell rang.

The sound of your quill hitting your book was silenced by the footsteps of the other students exiting the classroom. They had finished their potions, and your table was literally the only one in the room that was still messy, with a mixture that looked too suspicious to be called a potion.

“I have been patient enough to let you two bicker the whole time, but for you to not finish making your potions,” Professor Snape said as he walked back to his desk, his cape almost floating behind him.

“Great, he’s gonna put us in detention,” you muttered to yourself.

“That is correct, Miss L/N,” Professor Snape continued. “Once you’re both done cleaning up your table, meet me in my office.”

The frown you wore on your face was so bad that anybody who saw you could easily tell that you were pissed, but between gathering the books and papers and wiping off spills with a cloth, you could have sworn you saw Jay smirking to himself.

---

As you placed a bucket of water in the middle of the Prefects’ bathroom, you sighed at the exhaustion that you felt despite not having even started your detention. You and Jay were both assigned to clean up the bathroom, which, despite only being restricted to use by the school Prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, was in an alarmingly grimy state.

You purposefully steered away from the side of the room with the toilet stalls and stood by the large, swimming pool-like tub sunken into the ground with bath taps surrounding it. The tub was drained, and you much preferred scrubbing it to cleaning all the toilets.

Jay was standing by the bath supplies on one side of the pool, staring at the different kinds of soap, bath oils, bath salts, shampoo, and conditioner. It took a while for him to realize you were glaring at him, basically waiting for him to start working already.

“Damn, it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom,” Jay muttered, placing a small bottle of bath oil back in its place. “You must take baths all the time.”

You snorted, audible enough to make it echo throughout the whole room. “I don’t have time for baths.”

“Really? What a shame,” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “How long do you think it would take for us to finish?”

“If you keep using your mouth instead of your hands, probably a lot longer than I expect,” you replied without a pause, sounding annoyed.

Your snarky remarks did not bother Jay at all. In fact, it amused him, and the way he was laughing softly was not helping at all. He walked over to the stalls and finally began to work only minutes after you started.

“Today is really not your day, huh?” Jay’s voice echoed behind the stalls.

“Thanks to you, it’s not,” you answered, polishing one of the hundred golden bath taps that surrounded the tub.

“You know,” Jay started, only to pause to flush the toilet so he wouldn’t have to compete with the sound. “I have a feeling that you don’t like me.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your bucket to polish the other bath taps. Jay cleared his throat as he waited for your reply.

“Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” He asked. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair that just because I’m in this House, you automatically hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” you finally responded. “Hate is a strong word.”

“Alright then,” Jay walked out of one stall and looked in your direction before entering the next stall. “So, what’s the story?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wrung out the cloth you were holding. It was a long story, you thought to yourself. You came from a family of Slytherins—both your parents and your older brother were—but since you were old enough to understand and remember things, you had always been the odd one out in your family. They would excel academically and go on to achieve things you never even dreamed of. Your interests were always different, and what got you far at school was thanks to your personality and smart work.

It was still a vivid memory to you, the moment you sat down and let the Sorting Hat analyze you. You thought you would hear a confident ‘Slytherin!’ from the Hat, but after a couple of seconds of deciding, it placed you in Gryffindor. Switching houses was never a thing, so you did what you could and made good friends, studied hard enough to make the professors notice you, and eventually, you earned the title of Prefect as you entered the fifth year.

Despite that, throughout the years in Hogwarts, you kept hearing and witnessing stories about Slytherins, how they always happen to achieve so much but at the same time are notoriously problematic. The house you once dreamed of being a part of quickly became one that you were relieved to be excluded from, but somehow, the longing remains.

Around your third year in Hogwarts, you began hearing chatter about Park Jongseong. He became popular, it seemed, after he was assigned to be the Keeper of Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and also after he had an insane glow-up. You then noticed that he was the quiet nerd who used to bury his nose in whatever book he was reading in a dark corner in the library, but since then, he had ditched his glasses and styled his luscious silver locks in a way that—

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Jay’s voice woke you up from your extensive daydreaming, and it made you realize you were polishing one bath tap for way too long.

“How long were you polishing that tap?” Jay asked, tilting his chin towards your hand.

His question spooked you, and you were beginning to think he might have heard your thoughts. You cleared your throat before moving to the next tap. “Not long, why?”

“Because I’m done with all the toilet stalls, and I noticed you haven’t moved an inch.”

Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought. How long exactly did you zone out for?

“Should I start cleaning the pool’s floor then?” He asked, fixing his folded sleeves before squatting down and then jumping into the empty pool.

“Sure,” you said, immediately picking up your pace and trying your best not to steal any more glances in his direction.

“Listen,” Jay began, both his hands firmly holding a mop. “You got really silent after I asked a question, so I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. We can continue to work in silence if that’s what you prefer.”

You smiled as you moved on to the next tap. “It’s fine. I was just tired.”

You refocused on your own task, determined to leave the bathroom spotless, but after a moment, you noticed Jay moving oddly around the pool floor, dragging his mop in a way that was not normal. When you lifted your head to look at him, you saw that he was singing, no, lip-syncing a song and using the mop as a mic stand, completely immersed in his imagination but being considerate not to bother you with noise.

At this sight, you burst out laughing. Jay stood up straight and turned his heel to face you, looking surprised.

“Please,” you said after you contained yourself, “do continue.”

“Miss Prefect,” Jay sighed, “this bathroom is way too huge for only two of us to clean. Do you think we can sneak out and get our wands from Snape’s office?”

You shook your head. “The door is locked with a password.”

“But you’re Miss Prefect,” Jay said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know the password?”

“He literally changed it after leaving us here with these cleaning supplies, Jay. I don’t know the new password.”

Jay paused and for a moment you thought he was figuring out a way to escape, when in reality, his stomach just did a backflip from the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“So, what you’re saying is there is literally no way to get out of this bathroom unless we finish cleaning it?” Jay asked.

“That is the point of detention, yes,” you replied, shrugging.

Jay groaned and turned around, pushing his mop and reluctantly continuing to clean the pool floor. You were almost halfway done with polishing all the bath taps, and you sighed as you looked at all the mirrors waiting to be scrubbed clean too.

After a while, Jay finished scrubbing the floors, and you began to wonder if you should have taken his work instead since the bath taps seemed like a never-ending task to complete. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, making you quickly look away.

“Should I help you with the bath taps or start doing the mirrors?” Jay walked over to your side before pushing himself up the edge and then standing up, towering over you.

“Mirrors, please,” you answered, this time tilting your chin to point at the direction of the sinks.

“Really? Because you seem like you’re taking your sweet time polishing all those taps,” Jay said, tilting his head to one side.

You looked up at him and he had this teasing, lop-sided smirk. Meanwhile, the unintentional doe eyes you were giving him made him almost choke on his own saliva.

“Just do the mirrors, Jay.”

You saw him smile the second you finished your sentence, and when he turned his back to you, it somehow looked like his shoulders were happy. He stood in front of the sink and did a quick count on the number of mirrors he had to clean. You saw him start from the far left, where one of the mirrors was cracked on the edge.

“Be careful with that one. Ravenclaw’s Head Girl almost—”

“Fuck!”

You heard Jay groan as he stumbled a few steps back, wincing in pain and shaking his left hand.

“Jay,” you sighed, standing up and throwing the cloth you were holding to the floor. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

You walked up to him and stood before him with your hand out. He looked at you questionably before lifting his left hand for you to take a look.

“Is it bad?” He asked, slightly looking away. “I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“That explains a lot,” you muttered, placing your hand carefully over his. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What is it?” Jay asked, his right hand shaking in panic.

“Your fingers are so thick and stubby, like cocktail sausages.”

Jay snorted before pulling his hand away and you giggled.

“It’s just a scratch,” you said in an attempt to calm him down. “You can carry on.”

“Well, do you have something I can use to treat it?” Jay asked.

You were already sitting by the edge of the pool to continue with your polishing. “Do I look like a walking first aid kit to you? Just spit on it and move on.”

Jay looked at you, unsure of your advice. He then turned around and decided to wash his hands with soap. The suds obviously stung, so he was flinching and wincing quietly, but he could see you giggling silently from your reflection in the mirror in front of him.

“Do you really mean it?” Jay spoke, looking at you through the mirror.

“Mean what?”

“That I have stubby fingers,” Jay clarified.

You were unsure what to make of his tone. He sounded curious but also hurt, or maybe…

“So what if you do?” You asked back, not paying attention to him.

The strands of your hair were becoming loose and covering your eyes, and you were dying to fix the scrunchie on your ponytail, but both your hands were wet and occupied with polishing. You kept huffing and puffing and even attempting to move your hair using the movements of your shoulders until Jay sneaked up behind you and tapped you on your arm.

“Here, allow me,” Jay said calmly, tugging on your scrunchie.

You sat up straight and let him pull your scrunchie off, letting your hair cascade to your back. He began brushing your hair with his fingers before gently bunching it into a ponytail. He skillfully tied your hair up into a bun that was less messy than before. You were about to thank him, but he moved from behind you and jumped back into the empty pool, standing in front of you and tucking the loose strands of hair behind both your ears.

His fingers brushed against your ear, and for a moment, you were lost in his eyes. The next thing you felt was his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer as he stood in between your legs, his lips crashing against yours. You sighed as you let yourself be enveloped in his warmth—his tongue tugging yours, his lips devouring yours, his palms pushing against your back, and his breath mixing up with yours.

You felt his hand travel lower down your back, settling on your ass before he pushed you closer to him, earning a soft yelp from between your lips. His mouth detached from yours only to give you a sly smirk before he dove back into you. Your hands rested comfortably on his shoulders as you gave into his every move, and when you felt one of his hands grazing the exposed skin of your thigh from the gap between your skirt and your knee-high socks, you gasped.

“Wanna see what these fingers can do?” Jay asked, speaking right against your lips.

Your eyes searched for his before you nodded a little too eagerly. He chuckled before sliding his hand between your legs and under your skirt. His fingers easily found their place on your clothed cunt, and despite his gentle moves, you could not hold in your moans.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands bunching up his shirt.

“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” he teased, leaving a wet peck on your chin. “Can you say it again?”

He pressed his thumb on your clit before sliding it down your folds, and he could already tell that you were soaked. You were biting your lip, and he chuckled, bringing the same hand that was caressing you up and towards your chin.

“Come on, now,” Jay cooed. “Prefects are usually good students. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

His thumb slid upon your bottom lip, and you could almost sniff the scent of your own arousal. You were trembling at this point, desperate to feel more of him, so all you could give as a response was a nod.

“Say my name.”

“Jay—”

Your voice was muffled as he slid in a finger when you opened your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it before he entered another one, and then he hurriedly placed his hand back between your legs, pushing your panties to the side before easily sliding those two fingers inside of you.

“Jay!” You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider so he could do whatever he wanted to do to you comfortably. Your fingers reached for the back of his head, pulling on his silver locks before you pushed his head to your neck. He began licking the soft skin under your chin before placing wet kisses down your neck. With one hand, you unbuttoned your top and pulled your collar open, giving him more access to your skin. He sucked on your collarbone softly and, at the same time, curled his fingers inside of you.

You repeatedly moaned into his ear, and at some point, you thought you sounded way too pathetic, but the way Jay was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and the way the squelching sound was echoing throughout the whole bathroom made you believe that the sounds you were making were actually quite tame.

“Jay,” you sighed. “Oh, my God.”

Jay lifted his head from your neck and flashed you a proud smirk before leaning in to kiss you again. You whined at the contact, and as your hands found his face, you began to caress him, pull him, and do whatever was necessary to send the message that you wanted him bad.

You felt the increasing pace of his fingers between your legs, and you began to feel the ache in your ass for sitting on the edge of the pool for too long. Jay pressed his thumb on your clit, and you threw your head back in pleasure, grabbing onto his biceps for support. When your moans started to sound higher and more in sync with the movements of his fingers, Jay leaned in and pressed his cheek onto yours before speaking right into your ear.

“Cum for me, will you?”

The deep tone and gentle vibration of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and with that, you finally reached your high. Your legs were shaking, and to soothe you, Jay began kissing your cheek softly. He kept kissing you and moving towards your lips, giving you a long peck before moving down to your chin and neck. He kissed the parts of your skin that were beginning to turn purple, and once he heard your leveled breathing, he pulled away to take a good look at you.

“Good girl,” he said right to your face.

You playfully, and very gently, slapped his face. He let out a wholehearted chuckle before pulling his hand from between your legs. Just seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. Your eyes widened, and Jay quickly registered the situation. He fixed your collar for you to button up before he sprinted back to the mirror he was supposed to be polishing while you frantically searched for the abandoned cloth that you had been using the whole time.

“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom?” Professor Snape stated after scanning the area. “It’s almost curfew, so wrap up and continue cleaning tomorrow. I’ll consider your detention done once this place is spotless.”

You stood up and observed as Professor Snape reached into the pocket in his robe and took out your wands. After he handed them over to you and Jay, he turned around without further question and left the bathroom. Jay looked at you, and you sighed in relief, almost collapsing to the floor because of your weak knees, if not for Jay holding you up by your elbows.

“That was too damn close,” you commented, standing uncomfortably since your panties were not fixed the right way.

“I’d say it was exciting,” Jay said, leaning into you and sniffing your neck.

“Jay, stop it,” you said, placing your palm firmly on his chest.

“That’s not what you wanted me to do when I had these stubby fingers inside you,” he teased, raising his hand and wriggling his fingers in front of your face.

You smacked his hand away, and he cackled, almost making the room shake from the echo.

“We still need to come back tomorrow and whose fault is that?” You asked, your back turned to him as you were tidying up the supplies.

“Fault?” Jay tilted his head. “No, favor. You’re missing the point. We get to come back here tomorrow.”

You stood up straight before turning to face Jay. He boldly took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance and pulling you by your waist to press your body against his.

“Are you honestly telling me you’re not looking forward to it?”

With Jay’s arm firmly around your waist, the heat of his body against yours, his eyes boring into yours, and his silver hair messy from the way you were pulling on it earlier, there was no way you could lie to his face.

“Okay, I am looking forward to it,” you said after gaining enough courage. “Maybe instead of your stubby fingers, you can show me something else.”

Jay’s eyes twinkled at your daring tone, and you both chuckled before letting each other go, nagging at him as he collected your supplies while shamelessly ogling your body.

-END-

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flemingsfreckles · 6 months ago

Text

Grandkids

Jessie Fleming x Reader (parent fic)

Synopsis: You and Jessie catch wind that your teenage daughter might have a boyfriend. Jessie loses her mind over it.

Warnings: discussions of sex, bird and the bees type conversation

WC: 1.7k

A/N: literally no one asked for this but I’m struggling to write. This is just another short blurb that got written because I had a single thought about Jessie being a mom to teenagers and having to give her kids the birds and the bees talk.

When your children had gotten home from school that day, you and Jessie were in the office, organizing old documents. The office was just located off the kitchen where your two children had walked through the door.

Your youngest child, Riley was already interrogating at his older sister. “So what is he your boyfriend now, are you guys all gross and in love?” You paused what you were doing, listening further into the conversation.

“Stop Riley.”

“Amelia and Nick sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Your younger one continues to taunt his sister

“Ughhh, shut up!” Your daughter's voice begins to fade, you assume she’s walking out of the room and away from the teasing that’s going on.

“Where are you going? To call your boyfriend?” You hear Riley call after her followed shortly by the slamming of a bedroom door. Normally the door slamming would be immediate grounds for either you or Jessie to go talk with your daughter. However you and your wife both remained frozen in the office.

You hear your son grab something from the fridge and make his way to his own room before closing the door.

When you heard his bedroom door close Jessie started speaking. “Did he just say her boyfriend?”

“I think so? I don’t know?” You shrug at your wife before turning to put more papers away, no longer being distracted by the conversation between your teenagers.

“Why are you fine with this?” Jessie now standing, no longer caring to organize and shred paper. Clearly Jessie was not taking the new information well.

“Fine with what?” You look at Jessie, taking the papers in her hands to finish filing them away.

“Our daughter having a boyfriend.” She says as if it’s the most obvious answer.

“Oh right, I’m sorry, she didn’t turn out gay like us, we tried our best.” You feel the smile creeping across your face. “Maybe we should’ve let her play softball and dressed her in more flannels as a little kid.”

“Can you take something seriously for once?!” Jessie was usually a fan of your humor but it appeared that today was not the day for it. She was clearly upset.

“Jessie, first of all, Riley is 15 he might not actually know what he’s talking about, he might’ve just overheard some school gossip. Second of all, Amelia is 17, not 12, she can have a boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at your wife, seeing and hearing the panic that she was having.

“I thought we had agreed when she was born that she wasn’t allowed to date until she was 25!” Jessie was whispering yelling at you, not wanting to alert your children.

“That was a joke Jessie, I’m not controlling my kid’s romantic life until they’re 25!” You both had jokingly talked that you wouldn’t let anyone near her, she was your little girl, you both overbearing as brand new parents. You had forgotten about that, obviously realizing that she’s a human and will likely date before she’s 25.

“Well she can’t have a boyfriend.” She crosses her arms, staring at you like you’re the bad guy in this situation. You throw your arms out, not sure why Jessie is upset with you.

“She’s 17, it’s fine, we don’t even know if it’s actually a boyfriend.” You tried to reason with your wife but you could practically see the steam coming from her ears.

“She’s too young to have a boyfriend, she’s too young to be having sex!” Jessie whispers the word ‘sex’ as if just saying it was going to cause a teenage pregnancy somewhere in the world. “We cannot have grandkids yet!”

“Oh my god,” you start to laugh. “You’re fully losing it over this aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s dramatic jump from a potential boyfriend to your daughter giving you grandkids in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t know why you’re so okay with our daughter having sex with a boy we’ve never even met!” Jessie is wildly waving her hands, her face has a look of panic on it.

“Alright, sit, take a deep breath.” You push Jessie’s shoulders forcing her to put her weight up against the desk, half sitting on it. She takes a deep breath and you take one with her. You keep your hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as you talk to her.

“We don’t know he’s her boyfriend. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Amelia is a smart girl, you know that.” You take her hands in yours. “If she’s determined that now is the time she wants to start dating, I think we need to understand that that’s okay. We can talk with her about it. We’ll tell her our expectations, the expectations we have for her and whoever she wants to date. It’ll be fine.”

Jessie takes her hands from yours, crossing her arms over her chest, letting out a small huff. “But it’s not fine, I don’t trust him, I don’t think he has good intentions.”

“You’ve never met the kid, Jessie just because he’s a teenage boy, doesn’t mean he only wants sex from her.” You pause before you continue, knowing your wife would likely not be happy with the next few words you said. “And Jessie,” you grab her face making her look at you. “if she is dating this boy or dating anyone, and she’s curious about the physical intimacy that comes with that, I think that’s okay.”

“No its-” you hold up your hand to stop Jessie’s sentence.

“Let me finish. If she’s curious and has questions, I’d rather she feel comfortable coming to us than to the internet or her friends who don’t know and will give her terrible information. Yes, 17 is young, but she’s practically an adult Jessie. She’ll be off at school in a year, where she won’t have us to help her with these things.” You can practically see the rage building up in your wife’s face. “Now I'm not going to sit here and tell her to go have sex, but I'm not going to let our daughter be taught that sex is a sinful or scary thing, you know that. We’ve raised them to be open and honest about sex so far, we can’t become a sex-negative household now that she’s at that age where it might be a thought. We can talk with her, have an adult conversation. We’ll explain the emotional aspect that comes with it, we’ll make sure she understands all the aspects of what it means to have sex with someone. And that if,” you take a deep breath, “if she’s planning on, or has any interest in having sex, we’ll get her set with birth control or condoms, probably both.”

“She’s too young, putting her on birth control would be like offering to buy them a hotel room to do it.” You couldn’t believe Jessie’s behavior still, you thought your reasoning would’ve helped her opinion at least a little.

When you first learned you were having a girl, Jessie was admient that no one would go near your daughter until she was 30. But the two of you had done your best to raise your kids to be informed, you taught them about consent early, you taught them the anatomy of where babies come from, when your daughter turned 14, you and Jessie sat her down, giving her the full bird and the bees talk. You did most of the talking, Jessie was there but she looked just as mortified as your daughter did. You taught her sex wasn’t bad and sex wasn’t just for babies, it was for intimacy, connection, enjoyment, it was fun, it was a way to connect with another person, but that didn’t make it any less serious. Jessie had been on board before with these discussions, she didn’t always participate fully, but she was always there and you knew your daughter had gone to her to ask her some questions after to get clarification. But now that the reality of your daughter starting this part of her life was real, Jessie had done a 180.

“Jessie, she’s a teenager, teenagers have hormones. If she wants to have sex, it’s going to happen, teenagers find a way whether we like it or not. I’d rather her be having safe, informed, and protected sex, than unsafe sex in a boy’s mom’s car in a sketchy dark parking lot in the middle of nowhere just so they can avoid getting caught.”

You both sit in silence, Jessie looks at the ground and you look at her.

“I hate that you’re right.” She mumbles after a few minutes.

“I know.” You kiss her cheek with a smile. “Jessie” you grab your wife’s hand, your thumb rubbing over where her wedding band and engagement ring sat, “Let’s just go talk to her, that way we’re not sitting here guessing and making up scenarios. For all we know it’s not a boyfriend.”

“I just can’t believe she wouldn’t tell us. She’s our little girl, she used to tell us everything.” You can now see the sadness in Jessie’s eyes.

“I know, but our little girl is growing up, she’s a moody teenager now, she’s not going to want to share everything with us, and that’s okay.” You sit down next to Jessie, resting your head on her shoulder as you both stare at the door of the office.

“I want her to go back to being so little. I used to be able to hold her in one arm.”

“I know, they both used to be so little.” You and Jessie sat together, your head on her shoulder, reminiscing on the 17 years that seemed to have flown by. Thinking about how small their fingers used to be, how small their clothes were, how they’d babble at you, all of that gone, you now had two grown children.

“We did a pretty good job with them I think. They’re good people.”

“Yeah,” Jessie laughs, “just not to each other.”

“Well they’re siblings.” You respond back. You realize you’ll probably have to talk to your son too about his teasing. “Ready to go talk to her?” You ask Jessie.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to watch her grow up but I don’t think I have a choice.” Jessie says pushing herself off the desk. “Let’s go.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #jessie fleming blurb

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sl4sh3rsub · 11 months ago

Text

billy lenz hcs (nsfw: mdni)

billy lenz x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: this is set in the mid-to-late 70s, perversion, old school + kinda one-sided phone sex, billy is loud as fuck + a creep + delusional, scent/musk kink, cumming on clothing, copious mentions of cum + precum, using cum as lube, dry humping, extremely dubious consent (somnophilia), masturbation (+ billy edging), oral sex (both giving + receiving, facefucking reeiiving), reader is referred to as 'piggy', p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), ass eating/nondescript tongue fucking (giving + receiving), handjob mention, implied violence (not towards reader), overstimulation (giving + receiving), diy home reno gloryhole, old school cum tribute, foot humping/light cbt??, light bondage (pun), sex toys (for billy), hickeys + biting (giving + receiving)

a/n: kinda edited. happy holidays folks!! this might be ooc but i swear i tried. was gonna add more feet stuff bc it's billy, but decided against it. if you're into that kinda thing, use your imagination - i only mentioned it once and i think that's enough tbh. this one also doesn't have as much literal sexual intercourse as my other hcs (just a heads up) it's been a hot minute since i've watched the film, so the characteristics might be off (i based this on my own interpretation of him and i haven't really read any billy fics recently.. oops) it's a little rushed but i really did try! hope you like it

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

billy got bored of all the sorority piggies and moved, hiding in a mixed residential college dorm building - a creaky colonial-style residence with a spacious attic. the first time he sees you, you're getting dressed to join the other boarders for dinner. billy heard you humming to a radio and peered down between the cracks in the stained floorboard. he's been unhealthily obsessed with you since then <3

billy is an absolute pervert and will sexualize anything and everything you do. from scratching your neck to wandering around your room in your underwear, he's already ogling and muttering how much of a fuckin tease you are

he becomes bolder over time and eventually sneaks into your room at night. after you catch him lurking in the darkness of your room and he doesn't get immediately thrown out, he grows more and more trusting of you. billy becomes accepting of your begrudging attraction to him and he definitely takes full advantage of it :< you reluctantly give him permission to venture into your room if he needs company or an outlet for his pent-up sexual energy - it must be pretty cold and lonely in the attic, what's the harm in cuddling with the lanky man? he's already your dirty secret and at this point, he'd kill for you

his favourite pastime is calling your room's rotary phone during the day and either making mundane conversation with you or having you listen to his rambling as he strokes his cock, not even ten feet away from you. if you start bashfully touching yourself to his babbling or accidentally let slip a moan, tilt your head towards the ceiling so he can see your blissed-out expressions (he definitely cums on the spot)

if you want to get in his good books, put some old cabaret music on your cassette player and give billy a show - whether it's a sensual strip tease or you touching yourself on your bed, billy will be over the moon. as the music ends and the room is quiet - apart from your heavy breathing and thumping heartbeat - little gasps and applause drifts down from your ceiling, making you blush and whisper your thanks

there is not a moment when this man is quiet. in sexual situations, of course he's going to breath loudly, growl and spout obscenities, but even in regular conversation he rambles and expresses his opinions in long, convoluted trains of thought

billy loves it when you're just with him - in reality, you're alone in your room with a creep peering down at you from above, but it's better to let him be delusional. no harm has come of it... yet

don't worry your silly little head about the opaque liquid dripping from ceiling, directly above the bed :< it's either his spit, tears or precum drooling down between the wooden paneling from him constantly edging, the sight of you just existing is enough to turn him on. if it somehow lands on you, billy will cum instantly at the sight of you with his love painting your skin. you look like his perfect piggy, he can't help it :(

he has a habit of dragging his leaking tip over your face while you sleep, smearing his musky precum over your skin for you to smell when you wake. his favourite hobby is staining your skin in his stinky, salty scent - from cumming in your underwear as a way of marking you to wiping off his pre on your lips (as to not stain his boxers), he will make any excuse to clean off his cock on you. if you've been dismissive of him or too caught up in studying, he'll threaten to wake you up by dragging his musty balls over your face. just saying.

whenever he sneaks down to spend time with you skin-to-skin, billy practically goes feral. he's already jittery and constantly rock hard, so expect him to hump you like the degenerate mutt he is. every time you hug or lie next to him, he'll wrap his arms around you and start grinding against you, burying his face in your shoulder. he might not even want to initiate sex!! billy just wants to show his affection and attraction to you :(

billy isn't lying on the phone calls about what he wants to do to you. his inexperience is second to his enthusiasm and need to tongue-fuck you at every given opportunity. your spit-shined, sloppy hole is his favourite view on any day of the week and you bet he's going to make the most of it. make sure to place down a towel under his hips while he goes to town, he tends to leak precum freely and stain your bedsheets whenever you two so much as hug :>

he is a massive drooler, so watch out for the spit puddles on your pillow and mattress after he graces you with a visit. billy is also massive fan of visiting you in the dark - be it night or whenever you have your curtains closed - as he is pretty embarrassed about his constant ahegao face. it's especially prevalent when you touch him just right or suckle on his skin in that perfect spot

billy is constantly babbling about how much you can take his juicy, meaty cock in your tight piggy hole and frantically escalates whenever you pick up the phone. he always describes how he's gonna taste your arousal and fuck you until your legs are shaking, his fingers itching to touch every inch of you. billy's third-person descriptions throw you off a little, but he gets the point across pretty well. his insane squeals and huffs get louder as the lewd, wet rhythm picks up with every passing minute

if someone picks on you, he'll find their phone number and target them with streams of profanities and harassment until they leave you alone and back off. if you come home crying from a bad experience around strangers or tell him of someone who attempted to hurt you, he'll take it upon himself to dispose of them. how else would he rid himself his violent urges? he has to protect you and keep you for himself somehow

expect weird, out of place stains on all of your clothing. from small splatters to large and obvious splotches, every clothing item has remnants of his visits to your dorm room

billy has long-winded phone calls with you, about everything from your life to your interests and favourite things. there's shuffling above you every once in a while, but don't worry about it. it's not possums or raccoons in the insulation, just billy trying to get comfortable - his back aches from craning his neck to see you in, leering from in between the wooden gaps

he will leave you little scribbled notes on crumpled, used envelopes - his barely legible chicken scratch goes on about how pretty you look when he's looking down at you and how fun you are to play with

billy is incredibly touch starved - he'll regift items he finds laying around in exchange for kisses or even a rushed handjob (if he asks nicely enough). the nicer and less dusty the present, the better the reward

his idea of heaven is the feeling of you gagging and choking on his dick, especially the dazed look in your eyes while he fucks your face. the way you catch your breath and let him just stand above you, staring at the mess of cum he made on your face, has his heart pounding in his chest. billy's gaze is one of pure adoration, especially when you have his throbbing cock resting safely in your mouth

prepare to be overstimulated!! he's a fuck machine and will go until he's shooting blanks, or you shove him off to take a break. he is so conditioned from his constant masturbating that he does not get soft after shooting his load - he keeps hissing through the sensitivity as he drills into you like a jackrabbit, hitting your deepest points and sending shivers down your spine. he uses his thick, goopy cum as lube half of the time - he often cums the second he pushes into you, feeling your warmth around him. good thing he has animalistic stamina and strong thighs :>

billy is extremely noisy but will gladly attempt to muffle himself if it means he won't get found out, if it means he gets to stay in the residence - with you - for longer. he's a whiny and breathy moaner though, so never expect complete silence

his pale skin practically glows under the moonlight whenever he pays you a night-time visit. his cock bobs whenever you ghost your fingers over his side and through his hair, precum pooling and dripping down his long length as he gently moves his foreskin back to reveal his flushed - borderline purplish red - cock head. the few freckles scattering his tummy and the wild, wispy brown bush surrounding his base makes him feel pretty insecure about his body - it's not at all like the buff, tan men in the risqué mags or porno tapes. reassure him that he's mouthwateringly attractive, swollen cock and all. the one downside of giving billy head is that his cum tastes very acidic and bitter - invite him to share a healthy lunch of salad and fruit with a healthy jug of water every once in a while, it'll benefit you both

most of the encounters between you two will happen at night or with him partially obscured, but eventually he'll gain enough confidence to emerge from his den and visit during the daytime

he makes a glory hole at the top of the stairs that lead to the attic - he knocks out a section of paneling that's hidden next to a cabinet, perfect for you to hide behind while kneeling :< he's not that considerate though, he still forces you to be vigilant while he makes you choke on his length without a care - you can't give him away, not in a compromising position like this!!

he sneaks into your bathroom and showers with your hair product and soap whenever he feels lonely. he's too musty to change his clothing and wear some of yours, but he's not above nicking your clothes detergent whenever your scent starts fading away.

billy is also in the habit of hiding in the shower behind the partially see-through curtain, lurking - his presence makes you hum in greeting as you wash your hands in the sink. he might stick his hard cock out from behind the curtain and giggle as it bobs just in your line of sight. if you decide to glance up at the tall silhouette while you take him down your throat, you'll see his hands scrunching the material into a wrinkled mess. at least you have billy's musty cardigan to kneel on, bruised knees are never fun

if you fall asleep while studying on your desk, he'll scuttle down and shift you ontop of the bed - he can't have his object of affection feeling under the weather. strained muscles and unnecessary soreness are gonna get in the way of your fun time with billy!

you might think you're going insane from time to time... don't worry though. the giggles, shuffling and faint moans echoing in your head are real, he's living directly above you after all. nothing to worry about :<

he is a little bit of a hoarder and definitely a thief - from strands of your hair on the floor to dirty tissues that landed in the bin after a masturbation session, it all ends up in billy's little gross pile of stuff in the corner of his lair

billy is creepy and definitely sneaks into your room at night to jerk off furiously in the corner - he loves looming in the shadows as his tip leaks like a broken faucet, groaning at the peaceful sight of you sleeping without a care. if he's feeling adventurous, he'll use your limp hand to hold his balls as he drips all over your mattress and strokes his length

whenever he's bored of the stashed porn mags in the attic, billy watches you below as you study and his hand wanders south. he uses your speed of writing as the metronome of his strokes and tries his best to not fuck his hand at the thought of giving you some 'under the desk support'

while you're out in classes, he beelines towards your bed and takes a nap in your bed, cuddling with one of your plushies. you may have caught him mid-snooze more than once, but you'd best not bring up how cute the stinky man looks or else he'll start sulking

billy guilt trips you into paying more attention to him - he needs someone to talk to plus he can fuck you too, what else could you possibly want? you see how needy he is firsthand when you return after class, walking in on him pinching his nipples as he bucks his hips and humps into your pillow. his desperate whines of your name tug at your heartstrings as you coo at his pathetic display. he really does get lonely though - billy likes imagining how it would feel to be hugged by you whenever he's feeling chilly upstairs

he will sit on your face as he gets off on demeaning you, sensually running his fingers over his cockhead as he rests his tight balls on the bridge of your nose. he has a knack for degrading you but isn't able to resist praising you, babbling about how good you're being for him and how hard he is because of you

he scatters polaroid cum tributes around your room whenever he visits without you noticing. all of the photos he took of you are eerie and at angles that could only be explained by him tailing you throughout your day-to-daylife. don't feel paranoid though, he's only wanting to ensure your safety! unfortunately, the evidence of his lurking was too tempting for him... it's now permanently stained with evidence of his lust. hope you like the present

billy asks you to buy him a vibrator for christmas! why- what do you mean no? but he gets lonely, he'll need something to keep him company. would you change your mind if he says you can use it on him too? :>

he cleans up your room to the best of his ability! he's not all altruistic though... billy steals your chewed pencils, sniffs your dirty underwear and swaps out your sweaty pillowcases to cuddle with and huff your scent from later

billy lenz is actually gross. he will want to bend over you and bury his nose into your chest, armpits and crotch after a long day. your sweat is such a turn-on for him, his cock swelling the moment you swing open your dorm door with a tired groan

if he wants to be more submissive to you, he'll beg you to help him cum by lightly grinding your foot into his throbbing cock. billy's bulge may strain against his sweatpants and tears may roll down his face, but the damp patch betrays his filthy arousal as it grows progressively bigger. the moment you comment on his enjoyment, he flushes deep red and his masochistic grin betrays how drunk he is on the pressure of your foot

tie him to a chair with old christmas lights he found in the attic, the glass bulb clinking together as he shivers at your teasing - slowly suck his cock and trail up to his tip with your tongue, edging him to the point of tears. he drools as you squeeze his cock slightly in his hand and scold him for being such a pervert

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but billy never fails to groan how amazing you feel as you clench around him

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'juicy piggy cock' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout a night when billy pays you a visit, he'll palm and kiss at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each passing moment. his guilty pleasure is dragging his tongue along your length and hearing your bleary whimpers

find two dildos that have a similar size and shape as you! he is pretty inexperienced in same-sex relationships, so why not help him practice? it'll be much easier for him to train his hole and gag reflex if he can practice on your size, even when you're away from your dorm :>

billy gets extremely jealous whenever you speak to anyone ever :( if he catches you planning a date or even talking to someone else, he'll whine a lot more than normal and sniffle down the line the next time you pick up the receiver. he might be able to pass it off as his normal attitude and shenanigans, but you know him better than he gives you credit for. invite him down to your room, cuddle him for a bit and fuck him into the mattress to show how much you care - whisper about how good he's being for you and mark up his neck with love bites

tangle your fingers in his hair as you kiss down his jaw, guiding him to sit in your lap as you shift in your seat and buck up into him. watch as his eyes roll and his tongue lolls as you hit his prostate over and over, fucking him dumb so easily

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him down to the balls

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy cunt' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your pussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark his territory your whole body

he wants you to sit on his face!! billy will eat you out like no tomorrow, throbbing and leaking uncontrollably into your sheets. he slurps and sucks on your clit until you see stars - despite his inexperience, his vigor and obvious enjoyment makes up for his sloppy movements

he squishes and squeezes at your tits as he sits crisscross on your mattress, staring in fascination. his excitement visibly increases at every mewl and whine from your mouth, jolting at your louder noises and chuckling at your breathless gasps. the softness of your breasts always catches him off-guard, his constant need to cum all over your chest becoming more and more obvious

the lewd sounds of him stroking his cock and you fingering your cunt are all the more prevalent whenever you're lying down together and he's spooning you. he's panting into your hair, wrapping his free arm around your waist from behind as you circle you clit firmly. the obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout your room end up on replay in both your heads for the next day

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him to the hilt

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'wet piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your boypussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark your skin up as well. he's a notorious biter and will not shy away from leaving bruises to ward off competition

he loves cornering you against your wall in the middle of the night - everything from the feeling of your arousal coating onto his fingers as he jerks you off, to the sharpness of your teeth biting into his shoulders as you muffle yourself. his favourite part is feeling your muscles slowly relaxing as you come down from your high

he suckles on your tcock as you leak down and coat his chin in your cum. billy will be a menace and run his cockhead against your hole and use your precum to jack off, coating your heated skin in his thick spend

he loves hearing how ruined the both of you become whenever you fuck yourself on his cock - he has the perfect vantage point to watch you bounce on his lap as he digs his fingers into your waist, sloppy sounds echoing around the room as his balls slap against your ass. billy's panting whimpers sound so pretty as he grits his teeth whenever you clench on his length

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you clench around him. he has a habit of burying his nose in your hair whenever he bottoms out, needing to be drowned in your scent and the feeling of your pussy

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout the night, he mouths at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each throb against his lips

he will swipe a lipstick or two for you - the sight of you with it smeared all over your face after a rough facefucking makes him giggle with glee, the pigment staining the base of his cock. he thinks you're all the more beautiful when he gets to ruin your makeup after you're all done up for him

billy latches onto your tits whenever you're shirtless - he loves leaving teeth marks and bruises around your nipples, practically marking his territory. he especially loves when the purple love-bites peek out over the cup of your bra :>

he loves bending you over your bed whenever he fucks you, your face buried in your pillow to muffle you loud noises as your girlcock dribbles all over your sheets. it's not like billy isn't making a mess either - his drool flying everywhere as he fucks you in a frenzy, balls slapping against the back of your pretty thighs. no matter how much or how deep he cums in you, it always dribbles back out of you and stains your bedding with the drying droplets

_ _ _ _ _

if modern day billy lenz had a ph account and made videos of him masturbating in the dark (while making his weird noises and shit), he would have a solid fanbase of weirdos who find it creepy and hot. i'm saying this as someone who would watch him religiously btw :>

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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mytheoristavenue · 9 months ago

Text

LF Creature x Reader - Mutal Comfort

Summary: You owed Lisa a favor, but you never expected she'd make you pay it back in the form of babysitting her undead boytoy while she goes to a party.

Warnings: rushed/not proofread, bisexual!reader, reader has an unreciprocated crush on Lisa, angst, fem!reader

"Lisa, I never agreed to this!" You shouted at your best friend as she hurried over to crawl back out of your window.

"I promise I'll make it up," she waved you off, sliding the glass panel up. "It's just for the night, I swear. I'll be back before school."

With that she was gone, hearing no other protests. You stood with your back flattened against the wall, frightened gaze never leaving the thing on the other side of your bedroom.

You were the only person who knew of Creature's presence, being Lisa's very best friend for life or whatever. You'd do anything for her but babysitting her undead little pet was definitely stretching boundaries.

You felt some guilt for your terror, after all, he did look incredibly somber, shrinking into the opposite corner. Maybe he felt bad for scaring you?

"S-Soo...uh," you started, pushing off the wall but only by mere centimeters. "Y-You...Lisa's new boyfriend?" The thing seemed rigid at the thought and reluctantly shook his head. "Let me guess, you wanna be?" You prodded, inching closer still. Another timid nod. The two of you had that in common, apparently.

"You and me both," you sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. Creature eyed you skeptically, still in the corner but not as glued to the wall as before. "Don't look at me like that, I don't mean I want to be her boyfriend." You paused, wondering if his expression was caused by the thought of you being gay or wanting to be a male, or maybe he was jealous at the thought of competition. "But, I don't know, being girlfriends might be nice..."

By this time, he'd inched close enough to sit on the other side of the bed, still as far away on it as possible, though. You took this as a sign to continue. "It's just that, me and Lis have been besties since like- kindergarten. I even convinced my parents to move her with her after her mom died and it feels like all she does is blow me off now," you ranted. "Like, before the incident, we'd have these long talks about the future, and we were always in each other's but now...I don't know anymore..."

An anguished moan was his only response as he drew his discolored hand to his chest. "Sorry," you said dropping your head. "I know you've gotta be hurting too listening to her ramble on about-" You brought your hands to your cheeks and batted your lashes, making your voice an octave higher to imitate your crush. "Micheal Trent!" He nodded, rolling his eyes slightly. "Y'know, I really don't know what she sees in him? Dude's a class A poser. He pretends to be into all that dark music and poetry but it's literally just to look cool and mysterious so all the preppy girls will fall in love with him."

While you ranted, Creature studied your room, noting how different it was from Lisa's. She had string lights, drawings, and moody posters all over her walls, while yours were tidy and well-organized with framed photos and prints of paintings that matched the color scheme of the walls. Eventually, you caught onto his staring and fell quiet prompting him to glance back to you.

"Didn't mean to fly off the handle, my bad." you muttered, standing up with a sigh. "Anyways, what do you like to do? Got any hobbies?" He stood up with you, wandering over to a keyboard that had collected dust in the corner. Curiously, he stuck a key and cringed at the sound it made. You joined him, explaining it. "That's just my old keyboard. I used to play piano as a kid but when we moved here we couldn't take my piano with us, so my dad got me this. It's kinda like an electric piano, only it's portable. Don't really like it though, too synthy for my taste."

Creature sat down in front of it, fumbling with the buttons on the control board while trying out the keys after each adjustment. Finally, he seemed to have found a setting he liked. "I'm guessing you play?" you cocked a brow. You couldn't have predicted how the cocky smirk then tossed you would make you feel. Following that, he threaded his finders together before pushing them out, cracking his knuckles before dramatically slamming down on the keys.

"Holy shit," you breathed, listening to the classical tune that filled your room. Needless to say, he played beautifully and was incredibly talented. At one point, he even glanced up at you with another shit-eating grin, showcasing the fact that he knew the positions by memory and didn't even need to look.

"You're amazing!" you explained when the song was finished, placing your hands on either shoulder and rocking him gently. "I've never seen that much musical skill from one person! What, were you like a professional pianist in your first life or something?"

To your surprise, he actually nodded. "Jesus christ man, I've never even heard that song before, did you write that?" He nodded again, and again, you were flabbergasted. "I bet you had an extraordinarily hard life." You muttered without thinking. "Art like that only comes out of suffering." As he nodded yet again, this time more bashfully, the two of you shared a moment of silence.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," you realized, glancing away. This time, Creature shook his head, an uncharacteristically peachy hand guiding your face back toward his as he stepped closer. For a moment, you waited to see what wisdom he had to offer, before remembering that no words would come as he stared at you, only able to offer a comforting gaze. "I wish you could talk," you whispered as he pulled you into his chest without you even realizing it. "But then again, maybe it's better you can't." you retorted to yourself bitterly. "I've had enough people tell me to cheer up because life gets better."

Creature stiffened, pushing you to hold you at arm's length, shaking his head again. "You think you got something better?" you asked, rhetorically.

Sensing your irritation, he resigned himself to giving up on communication for now. Taking matters into his own hands, he pressed a palm to his heart, a sign for you to trust him. Gently, he guided you back to your bed, pushing you down onto it. Awkwardly, Creature untucked the quilt from the bed a threw it over you, signalling for you to lay down, before tucking you in. You reluctantly followed his instruction, laying down on your side, tears welling in your eyes from all the overwhelming emotion bubbling inside you. You then watched as he made his way over to your desk, seeming to write something on a sheet of notebook paper Following this, he laid the note at your feet as he took a seat in front of the keyboard again.

You couldn't deny that you were beginning to feel drowsy after the soft music he played filled the room. This song was nothing like the first one. It was sweet and serene, unlike the dark and dramatic one he'd first played- with that cocky grin that made you feel so conflicted.

On the cusp of needing to rest your eyes, you remembered the note he'd left for you, briefly sitting up to reach it before laying back down, holding it up in the air to read what it said as he played your consciousness out.

"The sun does not ever reappear if the rain never stops. To live happily is to find solace in any weather. With the right balance, the flowers will begin to bloom. I hope to one day see a lush garden in you, darling."

#lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein creature x reader #creature x reader #lisa swallows #lisa frankenstein reader insert #lisa frankenstein fanfic #diablo cody #zelda williams

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vodika-vibes · 10 months ago

Text

Just One Date

Summary: You're a Military Doctor attached to the 212, and you've come to consider Commander Cody as a friend. Turns out, that he sees you a little bit more.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 1333

Warnings: Cody makes suggestive jokes, and gets whacked with pillows and has a hand slapped over his mouth for it.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: HAPPY 2224 Day! I came up with this idea at 5:30 this morning when I originally woke up and when I remembered what today was. There might, possibly, be a sequel where the date actually happens. It depends on people's reactions to this one.

You’ve been a civilian employee to the GAR since you were old enough to enlist. The military wasn’t exactly your “dream” career, but it got you away from your incredibly toxic family, and it paid you to go to medical school.

And, really, at the time the odds of there actually being a war was slim to non-existent.

Jokes on you, the war started 6 months after you graduated and you found yourself bouncing from military base to military base, before finally getting assigned to The Negotiator, under General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody.

The Commander is everything you’ve ever wanted in a Senior Officer, respectful and professional when the situation calls for it, but more than happy to share jokes with you when you’re not working.

The General, however, is a walking migraine.

At this point, you’re beginning to think that your job would be easier if you were assigned to literally any other battalion.

“General Kenobi,” You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Did you, perhaps, skip your basic first aid lessons as a child?”

Helix, working on Commander Cody at the bed behind you, doesn’t bother to muffle his laughter, but you tune him out with the ease of long practice, instead pinning your General with an accusing glare.

“Well,” General Kenobi rubs his chin thoughtfully, “I was a very busy padawan-”

“So, perhaps, you skipped the basic first aid classes that say when you get stabbed, do not remove the stabbing implement?” You interrupt.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I skipped the lessons-” He demures.

“And your reasoning for ignoring Commander Cody’s very reasonable order to not remove the knife from your thigh?” You ask.

“...uh…I was in shock?”

You smile. It’s a nice smile, and you’re pleased to see General Kenobi slump on the hospital bed, “Well, since you ignored your Commander’s very reasonable, and correct, order. You’re going to spend the next three days in a bacta tank.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to use bacta tanks as a punishment.” General Kenobi says thoughtfully.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to argue with me.” You counter with a roll of your eyes. “Relax, General. It’s not a punishment. You’re more injured than you look. And maybe you can get some sleep if I drug you enough.”

General Kenobi sputters, “Commander! Are you hearing this?”

“Hm? What? I’m not listening.” Cody says with a sly smirk.

“Well, there you have it. The Commander’s on my side.” You say brightly, as you spin to grab a syringe of the sedative that was especially formulated for Jedi. “Good night, General.”

“This is mutiny,” General Kenobi says with a frown.

“Yes, yes. I know.” You inject the liquid into his IV, “We’ll see you in a couple of days.” The older man slowly drifts off to sleep, and you pass the General over to the men who can get him into a bacta tank easier than you.

And then you spin on your heel and move over to Commander Cody, who’s laying on his hospital bed very peacefully, a small grin playing on his lips. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask, as you grab his file and scan it.

“Well, I was blown up, mesh’la.” Commander Cody says blandly.

“Well, that was silly of you. Why would you do something like that?”

“I woke up this morning and thought, ‘how can I make my medics pull their hair out today?’ and decided that getting blown up was the best way to go about it.”

You smother your laugh and glance at him, “One of these days Helix is actually going to kill you.”

“But you’ll protect me won’t you?”

“Of course.” You wink at him, “Everyone knows I’m the scary one.” You scan his record for a moment, and then favor him with a smile, “Aside from some bumps and bruises, you look totally fine.”

He grins at you, “So you like how I look, do you?”

You sigh, “Commander, that joke got old within a week of working with any of you.”

Cody just laughs and sits up, “Come on, Doc. I won’t tell. We both know that I’m the most handsome.”

“One of these days,” You counter as you set your hands on your hips, “I’m going to buy a box of chocolates and address it to ‘the most handsome man in the 212’ just to see who wins.”

“Aww, mesh’la, you don’t have to buy me chocolates.”

“Ooh, someone’s cocky.”

“You have no idea.” He flashes a boyish grin, “I could show you, if you like.”

You squint at him, “What?”

“Just how cocky I am.” Cody clarifies with a sly grin.

Your jaw drops and your face burns, before you grab the thin pillow and smack him with it, “Behave!”

Cody laughs, as he fends off the pillow, “What? I just repeated what you said. It’s not my fault that your brain lives in the gutter.”

“Rude. Rude!” You huff, “I changed my mind, I’m not going to protect you from Helix. RIP Commander Cody. I knew you well.”

“C’mon mesh’la,” He teases, “Having a dirty mind is a boon. Well, I think. Especially if it’s dirty about me.” Cody reaches out and lightly grips your hips, tugging you closer.

You scowl at him, though it’s really more of a pout, “You know, there are almost 2 million men identical to you-”

“Yeah, yeah. But you don’t have dirty thoughts about them.” Cody replies confidently.

“You’re so sure of that?”

“Yup.”

You shake your head, “Come on, Commander. You’re hardly a mind-reader.”

“I don’t have to be. I see how you look at me.” He says with a smirk.

“And how do I look at you?” You ask sarcastically.

Cody’s smirk grows into an amused grin, “Like you wanna drag me into a supply closet and ri-” You slam your hands over his mouth.

“Okay! Thank you!” You yelp, your face burning. “Why do people think you’re the mature one?” You bemoan.

“Because I play the part well,” He says smugly, his voice muffled by your hand.

“Can I remove my hand or are you still going to try and embarrass me?” You ask.

“I like it when you get all embarrassed, it’s cute.” Cody replies before he pulls your hands away from his mouth, and then presses them to the bed next to him without releasing them.

“Hm, you seem to have forgotten to release my hands.” You say dryly.

“I didn’t forget. I did it on purpose.” He says, his dark eyes scanning your face.

“And why would you do that?”

“Go on a date with me.” Cody says.

You blink at him, startled. “I beg your pardon?”

“One date,” He clarifies, “That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Commander-”

“Cody.” He interrupts, his gaze serious, “One night. Let me show you how good we could be together.”

You avert your gaze for a second, and you know that he can feel your heart racing with how he’s holding your hands still. “Commander, we’re not going to be returning to Coruscant for several months-”

“Cody, and I don’t care. I can woo you even on the Negotiator. Give me a chance.”

“And if we don’t go well together at the end of the night? What then?”

“We’re going to be great,” Cody counters, “But, if,” He rolls his eyes, “For some reason, we don’t work out, then nothing will change.”

“Com-”

He tugs your wrists so that you topple against him, “Cody. My name isn’t that hard, is it?”

“...Cody.” You finally say with a sigh, though there’s a small smile playing on your lips, “I suppose, since you’re so eager, I can agree to a single night.”

“There's going to be more than one.” Cody says confidently.

You hum thoughtfully, “Prove it.”

He grins at you boyishly, “I can do that. I already have the whole thing planned.”

“...How?” You ask, exasperated.

“I’m very good at what I do.” He replies smugly.

#star wars #tcw #commander cody x reader #cody x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #cody day 2224

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anonymous-dentist · 5 months ago

Text

Bleeding Heart Part One

Or: Somebody is attacking members of the Federation of Heroes, and Cellbit is, for once, not the killer

(TW: Blood, Self Harm [by technicality])

----

Cellbit first hears about the attacks from Bagi while they're getting lunch together for the first time in almost a month.

"I've just been so busy," she sighs. She looks about one insult away from slamming Cellbit's face into the table, and she looks about one wet piece of lettuce away from slamming her own face into her salad.

Cellbit hums in response. He's been busy, too. Not with police work, but photo editing is fucking hard, okay? Especially when your apartment is a fucking war zone thanks to yet another patented Richarlyson Temper Tantrum.

Only a little annoyed, Cellbit pokes at his barbecue hard enough with his fork to scrape it against the plate.

Bagi scowls and kicks Cellbit underneath the table.

Cellbit kicks Bagi back, with purpose.

"Fuck you!" she snaps, stomping down hard on his foot.

Cellbit responds by snatching her glass of water from next to her plate and turning it over above her salad.

"What?" Cellbit casually asks as Bagi starts visibly shaking with rage. "At least I'm not stabbing you this time."

"You-" Bagi cuts herself off with a frustrated groan.

She reaches across the table and steals his plate; he lets her, the meat is a bit too well-done for his tastes.

Cellbit leans back in his seat and watches her stab into the barbecue with the rage of a goddamn beast.

"Aren't you vegan?" he asks her.

"Fuck you," she tensely responds. "I don't have the patience for this today. Between you and those fucking- the Federation, I'm going to lose it."

Cellbit tenses at the mention of the Federation- the Federation of Heroes: Q City's defense against supervillains and petty criminals alike, the unofficial backer of the city's educational system and the police force and the courts, and Cellbit's unrequited worst enemy.

His nose wrinkles in distaste. "What do they want?"

"What don't they want?" Bagi sighs. "I don't see why they need us to solve this if they're in charge of literally every superhero in the city. It's just a couple of assault cases, that's it."

...Ah.

Casually- oh, so casually, Cellbit rolls his eyes and cracks a grin.

"What, is someone going around and beating up Federation guys again?" he asks. "I thought Enigma was dead."

Bagi nods, annoyance written all across her face in big red letters. "He is, I was there when he died! But freaking Foolish-"

"Oh, God, Foolish is on this case?"

"The Federation requested him specifically, but he's like-" (She screws her voice up into something approximating her coworker's.) "'Oh, no, Bagi! It's the dead guy assaulting all these Federation guys!' Like? Enigma is dead, how the hell is he still getting assault charges?"

Cellbit shrugs. "You know how Foolish is. He's probably still pissed about never actually getting to figure out Enigma's secret identity. He's just salty."

"Yeah, well. Whatever."

"Whatever," Cellbit echoes.

Bagi, somehow, looks much closer to death. She looks tired, but that's just what happens when you're stuck dealing with Cucurucho for an extended period of time; Cellbit swears he only gets sleep when Cucurucho is out of the city on official Federation business.

Now, Cellbit should probably be grilling his sister for more information. Any enemy of the Federation of Heroes is a friend of his, and he's got some contacts that he might want to hook this mystery person up with.

But.

Smile softening just slightly, Cellbit asks, "How has Empanada been? Is she doing better at this new school?"

Bagi's entire being brightens up, and she starts talking about her daughter's first day at her new school and how Empanada had the best time and how the school is actually accommodating for her disabilities and how... Well, Cellbit stops listening after a couple of minutes while he starts thinking about his own child.

Oh, Richarlyson.

He's so grounded.

But, funnily enough, it's while he's walking Richarlyson to school a week later that Cellbit finds the first official murder victim of Bagi's mystery assaulter.

"Oh," says Cellbit, looking down at the corpse lounging in front of his apartment building surrounded by its own brains and blood.

He blocks Richarlyson from following him out the door, much to Richarlyson's annoyance.

"What is it?" Richarlyson asks, squirming and trying to slip under Cellbit's arm. "I wanna see!"

"I think your other dads would kill me," Cellbit replies. He glances over his shoulder and down. "Can you go get my camera for me? I'll let you carry it to school."

Eyes widening excitedly, Richarlyson turns on his heel and bolts up the stairs.

As soon as he's gone, Cellbit looks back at the corpse.

It isn't a particularly good corpse. It's... messy. Too many wounds, too random. Skull fracture and cave-in seems accidental based off the location of the fracture and the location of the body; the killer probably smashed the victim's head against the building's railing and killed them just like that.

It's early in the morning. Early enough that Cellbit's street is basically empty; the Favela isn't really ever quiet, but people are smart enough to stay off the streets from sundown until sun-up. And the Federation of Heroes isn't dumb enough to try putting cameras up in a place like the Favela; it'd be a waste of money with how many times they'd have to replace them all.

So nobody is there to watch as Cellbit crouches next to the corpse and sticks a finger in the puddle of blood.

(Water holds memories, and blood is ninety-two percent water, so...)

The blood ripples like a lake after a stone was tossed into it, waves moving from Cellbit's finger outwards.

And then-

"Pai! I got it!"

Cellbit swiftly stands and turns and hides his hand in his coat pocket and smiles a thanks at Richarlyson. Damnit.

"Did you remember to lock the door behind you?" Cellbit asks.

He tries to block the view of the corpse again, but Richarlyson just barely manages to squeeze past him and out the door.

Cellbit sighs, "Don't tell your Pai Pac I let you see this. He'll kill me."

Richarlyson stares down at the body, frozen in shock.

Well. At least he isn't screaming?

Cellbit slings his camera bag over his shoulder and pulls his camera out. He's got work to do.

"Why do their brains look like that?" Richarlyson asks, nose wrinkled. "Gross."

"Brains don't look like they do in the movies," Cellbit explains, moving past Richarlyson and turning his camera on. He points it at the corpse's face, and he clicks the button. "They're a lot more... gooey. Not as solid as you'd think. It's mostly just the skull keeping them together."

"Really?"

"No, this is just kind of fucked up."

Richarlyson sits on the steps, arms crossed across his knees. He watches Cellbit work, not as disturbed as Cellbit thought he'd be. But, well, he is Richarlyson. He's seen worse than loose brains and a bit of blood. This is nothing.

"I think I know them," Richarlyson says after a bit.

Cellbit glaces up at him, camera focused on the bloody railing.

Richarlyson thinks some more, and then he nods. "Yeah, okay, so I don't know them, but I know their face! They were on the news last week! Super Hamster!"

Super... oh, right. Super Hamster, one of the Federation's newest recruits. Super low-ranked hero who spends their patrols getting cats out of trees and doing battle with a similarly low-ranked villain named Mongoose Man. Kind of stupid, but in a dumb college student way. Weird interviews. Weirder costume.

Cellbit lowers his camera and looks the corpse in the face. Super Hamster wore a mask over their eyes, but the cheeks and chin look the same...

Oh. Oh no.

God. Damnit.

Okay, so.

So.

Once upon a time, there was a supervillain named Enigma. He was a bit of a serial killer, but he only attacked and killed those affiliated with the Federation of Heroes: office workers, doctors, weapons suppliers. Heroes.

He did this for years. He founded the Order of Villains alongside fellow villains: the Demon and Crow Man. He killed dozens upon dozens of people, took down seemingly-endless numbers of rookie and professional heroes alike, made himself a reputation as the worst villain Q City had ever known.

And then he died.

There was an explosion during a chase he and the Federation's Sharkboy were involved in. Sharkboy was sent into early civilian retirement. Enigma was sent to his grave.

But.

Cellbit slinks his way down the alley with his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He's wearing sunglasses and a black surgical mask leftover from the last time Richarlyson was sick, and his hair is mostly hidden under a borrowed baseball cap.

Recently, according to both Bagi and the evening news, people seem to think that Enigma has done the impossible and risen from the grave. Somehow.

The thing is, the new guy doesn't kill the same way that Enigma did. Enigma used weapons the color of fresh blood. All reports from surviving victims of "Enigma" mention someone with a black sword and-slash-or a steel baseball bat.

Honestly? Cellbit wishes this new killer all the luck in the world. Going up against the Federation is risky business; that's why Cellbit retired in the first place: his family was at risk.

But, really, Cellbit can't have the rumors about Enigma's return continue to go around. They're making everyone pay too much attention to everyone else, and Cellbit really doesn't like getting stared at.

He really, really doesn't like getting stared at by Pac of all people.

So. For Pac's sake, and for Pac's sake only, Cellbit is on the prowl tonight. He's been studying up on the assault cases that Bagi has been investigating, and he's determined that nearly all of the assaults happened within a three-block circumference of the Federation's main building downtown. The outlier so far is Super Hamster, who was apparently Cellbit's upstairs neighbor before their death.

So. Downtown.

Cellbit doesn't have much on him. He has his phone and wallet, and he has a pocketknife and a pocket first aid kit. He's wearing gloves to hide his fingerprints, and because he knows better than to make skin-to-skin contact with an unknown super. (Because the new guy is a super, Cellbit can just tell; who else would have the balls to fight other supers hand-to-hand?)

And, of course, he has his camera. He needs to get proof for Pac, and then he'll get Pac to deliver the pictures to the right people.

Enigma might be dead, but "Enigma" would fit right in with the Order of Villains.

Cellbit steps out of the alley and looks up at the imposing Federation building rising above the buildings around him. It's big and white and glowing and shaped like the letter 'F' and it's fucking ugly, but it's also absolutely terrifying.

("Dispose of him.")

A helicopter lands on the Federation building's roof. Cellbit hopes it fucking crashes after takeoff.

With a sigh, Cellbit turns on his heel and starts down the street towards the building. He looks suspicious as hell, but he also has his P.I.'s license in his wallet if he needs to pull it out.

(He may not be an investigator anymore, but the license doesn't expire for another couple of years. Thanks, Federation!)

There's an itch on the back of Cellbit's neck. A mosquito, probably; it's summer, unfortunately.

Cellbit raises his hand to swat the bug away.

He blinks, and there's a figure in front of him standing beneath a streetlight in all black: hoodie, cargo shorts, what are probably athletic leggings beneath them, gas mask, and- for some reason- a medieval-style cloak with the hood pulled up.

Their hand rests on a sword hung on their side.

Cellbit doesn't so much as blink. Interesting outfit; the gas mask is a nice touch. Probably hiding a voice modulator inside it.

The sword almost seems to sing with all the blood coating it. Fresh blood, still dripping.

Slowly, Cellbit lowers his hand.

"Hey," he lamely says. "Nice cloak."

The killer's head slowly tilts to one side.

A deep, gravelly, very artificial-sounding voice drawls out, "You are not one of theirs."

Oh, so the killer is a nerd. That's cool. They'll fit in great with the Order.

Cellbit shakes his head. "No. I'm not. I'm on your side, actually. I'm just-"

The killer laughs, long and drawn out and painful sounding.

They shake their head slowly. "Don't fuck with me. No one is on my side."

Oh, so the killer is a depressed nerd. Who has obviously read a few too many comic books with how they're talking.

"No," Cellbit quickly says, "but I am. I hate those guys!"

The killer is silent. Still.

Cellbit watches them just stand there.

Swallowing a lump of anticipation in his throat, Cellbit continues:

"The Federation sucks. Everyone who works for it, or with it, deserves to die. I agree with you! But you-"

He cuts himself off with a gasp of pain as the killer vanishes in front of him and as a sharp blade stings along his ribcage from behind.

"Shit!" the killer snaps, voice modulator staticking in panic.

Cellbit staggers forward and throws himself onto the ground, careful not to crush his camera back. His sunglasses come flying off, but fuck them, he stole them, anyway.

His hand flies to his side, and it comes away bloody.

He grins. Perfect.

The killer lunges at him with his sword, aiming right for Cellbit's chest, but-

Cellbit raises his hand to catch the sword, hissing as the blade sinks into the palm of his hand. It cuts right through his glove like it was made of butter, but fuck the gloves, he stole them, anyway.

The killer freezes, confused as Cellbit drags his hand up the length of the blade. His blood drips down onto his hoodie, staining it dark.

"I told you," Cellbit growls, clenching his hand down and grinning. "I'm on your side."

And then Cellbit jerks his hand back and rolls to the side, narrowly dodging a stab to the chest. He raises his hand just in time for the blood running down his arm to ripple and start running backwards.

The killer must catch the movement, because they swing their sword towards Cellbit's wrist. Smart thought, but too late.

Steel clashes against iron with sparks and nausea as the killer's blade meets Cellbit's own.

Vaguely, Cellbit can see the killer's eyes widen through the goggles of their mask.

Cellbit swallows down a fever as he pulls the blood off of his hoodie and forms it into a tiny buckler shield. (If this other guy wants to go medieval, so will Cellbit.)

And then he pushes upwards with his blood sword with all his strength, forcing the killer to take a step backwards to keep themselves from falling on their ass.

"The cameras in this part of the city don't work," Cellbit breathes, pushing himself to his feet and desperately trying not to collapse under the weight of his own being. "You know this, but how? Only the Federation knows. They planned it this way. Job security."

"How do you know, culero?" the killer snaps.

They spin their sword once, look Cellbit over, and freeze.

Cellbit frowns. Just like before...

But then what happened before was-

Eyes widening in realization, Cellbit ducks to the side, just barely getting grazed by a sword skimming across the back of his neck.

The killer groans and tries again, this time catching the meat of Cellbit's bicep.

Cellbit groans, but he forces his blood to push the sword out of his body. It does so with a little protest, too weak to do much, but it manages.

"Enigma," the killer breathes. "You're supposed to be dead, man!"

"I am," Cellbit lowly says.

He hunches over slightly, more than a little out of practice. He holds his shield in front of himself, his sword quivering and at the ready.

"This is great!" the killer excitedly says. "Now that I know it's you..."

They lower their sword and sheathe it, practically bouncing on their toes. Their eyes glitter behind their mask, but they betray nothing.

"...we can team up!" they finish.

They reach a hand out.

Cellbit steps back warily. He holds his sword level with the killer's throat; it drips onto the sidewalk, blood splattering everywhere.

"I'm dead," Cellbit snaps. "You weren't supposed to even see me tonight! I just- oh, fuck."

He groans as a wave of heat washes over him. Pre-faint symptoms, he's close. He used to be better at this, fuck.

He staggers, both his sword and shield splashing onto the ground as he loses his hold over their forms. He braces himself against a streetlight, the same one he first saw the killer under, and he tries not to vomit.

The killer rushes towards him, gloved hands hesitating awkwardly next to his shoulders.

"You okay?" the killer asks. Even through their modulator, they sound concerned. Okay.

"I'm fine," Cellbit wheezes. He waves them off with a glare. "You just- I need proof. That it isn't me this time."

The killer stops breathing. They stop breathing for a long time.

And then they're next to Cellbit rather than in front of him holding his camera.

Cellbit's eyes widen. "Hey, no! Put that back!"

"Relax," the killer says, smile evident in their voice. "I'm getting you proof."

Cellbit's head spins. He hears the camera snap, and then he's on the ground. Oooohh, he's out of practice. (But isn't that a good thing?)

Another camera snap, and he's dry heaving. He hasn't eaten enough to be able to actually throw up anything, but his body sure wants him to try.

"Shit, hold on!" the killer exclaims, and then Cellbit knows nothing.

He wakes up to the familiar sound of the beeping of a heart monitor. There's a familiar alien sensation in his arm- I.V. drip, okay.

Okay, he's at the hospital.

Eyes flickering open, Cellbit lets out a sigh. Bagi is going to hate this.

"Fuck," he sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

Once upon a time, Enigma was the most feared villain in the city. But then he got a son, and he found his long-lost twin sister, and he realized that dying either from blood loss or from Federation execution wasn't the ending he wanted anymore. He wanted to live, and so Enigma had to die.

Cellbit hasn't passed out from blood loss since he was just starting out as a villain. It's been almost a decade since then, and he's definitely lost his touch. But that's for the better, really. He doesn't need to use his powers for that kind of stuff anymore. He can heal his son's wounds. He can read the lives of the deceased.

...Or, he would if he could.

He's startled out of his thoughts as someone comes into his room with an armload of vending machine snacks.

"Oh!" the new person exclaims, eyes widening. "You're alive!"

Cellbit doesn't know this person, but he thinks that he wants to.

"Who are you?" Cellbit croaks. "What happened?"

He was with the killer... and then he passed out... and...

"Oh, yeah, so I was walking home from work, and I found you all bloody and passed out on the sidewalk," the man explains.

He sits in the chair by Cellbit's bed, and then he dumps his snacks on the bed and lets out a sigh.

"I'm glad you're okay," he continues. "I was seriously worried."

Cellbit blinks. He's tired, God.

"My camera?" he asks.

"Over there," the man replies. He points towards the other side of the room with his head. "That Hombre Misterioso left it behind when he saw me there."

Cellbit frowns. "Hombre...?"

"Hombre Misterioso. The guy killing all those Federation workers? Apparently, he took a bunch of pictures of himself and managed to send them to the police. That's what they're calling him."

Cellbit's brain ticks away. "Doesn't that just mean 'mysterious guy' in Spanish?"

"Ay, you know Spanish?" The man grins. "That's cool!"

"I'm Brazilian," Cellbit murmurs, not really answering.

He gives the man an appraising look: brown hair, soft looking; dark eyes, glittering; red t-shirt, form-fitting; blue bandana, goofy. Biceps.

The man catches his gaze and winks.

"I'm Roier," he says.

Cellbit gives up on his analyzing; he'll get back to it when he isn't still so drained from losing so much blood.

"Cellbit," he replies. "Thank you for saving me."

"Nah, it's nothing."

(Roier's smile is sharp-toothed and positively breathtaking [or maybe that's just the blood loss talking.])

"Thank you for waking up."

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#enigma misterioso au #tw self harm #tw blood #fun fact! his blood loss symptoms are something i myself know intimately #pre-faint symptoms are no joke!

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