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kill4luvina · 6 months ago

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"Right thru me"

Onyankopon x Black!Reader

Summary : You and your man been havin' this dumb argument, and he know you so well it lowkey freaks you out. Especially today because he already had your whole routine down from prior nights when you'd act up exactly like this.

CW : SMUT, Pussy Slapping, Overstimulation, reader tryna run from the dick,Unprotected sex, (probably a lil more),not proof read. (This is a really really old draft im posting.)

" What are we doin'? Could you see through me? 'Cause you say, "Y/N," and I say, "Who, me?" And you say, "No, you," and I say, "Screw you"

Your jaw would drop as your stared at your boyfriend after hearing the bullshit that just came out his mouth. "You blowin my shi, like shut the actual fuck up." You'd say before turning your body away from him annoyed as fuck. "Mamas, you know damn well this ain't worth gettin' all worked up about," Ony would say, glancin' at you for a sec before realizing you were genuinely mad.

"Mamas… can you at least finish my hair before you get mad…?" he'd ask, getting up from where he was sitting and slowly walking over to you. You'd turn your back quickly, throwing the comb you had from doing his hair straight at him. He'd catch it, pissing you off even more as you stormed off into your room, leaving him completely alone in the living room.

He already knew you'd be in your room hitting your vape like a mad woman just out of pure anger. "Mamas.." He'd call from the opposite side of the door, slowly opening as you two make eye contact. "Come back please," he'd plead, already knowing you'd say no as you'd turn your body so your back was now facing him.

You'd hit your vape a couple of times before feeling a small kiss in your neck. "I'm sorry.." He'd whisper softly, knowing this always made you weak. Even before this, in a life before when it came to him his soul knew how to make yours feel better no matter what.

"Why would you say that..?" You'd ask firmly, trying to stand your ground. You'd be caught off guard feeling Ony's warm hands up against your skin. He'd softly play with your tits under your shirt leaving soft love bites on your neck. "You know I don't mean it.." he'd whisper.

"Onyyy-" you'd moan eyes rolling back as you felt his dick hitting you in all the right places. Your pussy creaming all over his dick as he gave you slow deep strokes. "You like that?" He'd ask, slapping your ass as he kept a constant speed.

"Oh-- oh my god.." You'd cry as you felt him pull out slapping his dick against your pussy. Slowly pushing himself back in you'd push your hips back so it'd slip in faster. He'd softly whimper, his eyes focusing on how your pussy swallowed him whole.

"Mama's, stop acting like you can take this dick.." He'd slap your ass getting a gasp out of you. "Y-yes I can!" You'd try to say as you started fucking back into him trying to prove him wrong.

"You always saying that shit until I'm rearranging your guts and you runnin'.." He'd said as he used a hand to push you head down into the bed, already aware of what your stubborn ass was gonna say. "Onyy, fuck mee" you'd whine getting your head pushed down, arching your back more for him.

"mmhm," He'd say putting a leg up onto the bed, as he started to pick up his pace. His eyes focusing now how creamy he could make your pussy, your moans getting louder as you tried your hardest to keep fucking back into him to prove him wrong.

Your eyes getting blurry the moment you felt a slap to your ass, whining you'd turn to look up at him. "Ony, stop being so mean.." You'd weakly let out as you kept fucking yourself onto his dick, he'd raise a brow before pulling out and slapping your pussy. "Ony!" You'd moan the mixture of pain & pleasure confusing you.

He'd go right back to fucking you, but this time his thrusts were deeper, quicker and much more rough. Not even a minute passes by and your cumming, your eyes rolling so far back as your pussy tightened around him.

"See, look at you, a mess." He'd say still fucking you, at the same pace but even rougher. "O-onyyy, too muchhh." you'd cry tears already rolling down you cheek as you felt him speeding up his pace. "But you can take it, right?" He'd continue as he'd slap your ass here and there.

"Can'ttt" you'd cry, reaching a hand back to attempt to push him back. "Mama's, what i said abt running from the dick?" he'd ask ignoring your silly attempt as he picked the pace up fucking you even deeper. "ddont rememberr" you'd babble out feeling like you couldn't remember anything.

"yeah, alright. just move this fucking hand."

" You make me laugh, you make hoarse from yelling at you And getting at you, picking up dishes, throwing them at you "

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bernardsbendystraws · 1 month ago

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You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. Kissing, making out, face sitting, munch!chris, fem!receiving, slight family angst, mentions of previous relationship age gap

A/N: I'm sorry but they have so much chemistry that the smut is irresistible to write sometimes...(I'm not sorry)

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P22: Relax, Baby…

It’s warm. I feel the soft caress of one of his hands on my waist, the other massaging under my thigh. My head is nuzzled on his chest, my leg resting across his body as I try to keep my heavy eyes open, the slight rain against my window creating a peaceful aura that makes it hard to stay awake with the exhaustion pulling on my mind.

“Morning,” he says, his voice still rough with hints of sleep. My crusted eyelashes pulling apart with each flutter of my eyes makes a sigh of frustration leave my lips.

The light rain against my window is comforting and so is his touch, but it’s not enough to make the ache in my heart any less apparent.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, looking down at me with a sullen expression. I shake my head against his chest, my eyes squinting shut as I try to push the relentless anxieties aside.

Sleeping with Chris has always been refreshing, but right now I feel awful—exhausted, even. I know I slept, but it doesn’t feel like my brain ever stopped looping around the memory of my ex in my house yesterday.

Shrugging, I hear Chris part his lips, closing them with a subtle smack.

He wants to ask, I can tell he’s dying to know more, but he’s trying to just comfort instead of pry for once. Thank god. I don’t think I could handle another thing going wrong. Especially not with him. He’s the one thing I’ve been looking forward to when I wake up, sometimes the only thought that makes it easier to take deep breaths throughout the day.

“Do you—” His words are cut off by a knock at my door.

Chris grips me tighter, his body tensing as my moms voice sounds, “I’m leaving for my trip. Baylen has your phone, he’ll give it back later today, just—he’s in charge.”

Of course he’s in charge.

Of course he has my phone.

Of course she only said goodbye instead of even checking up on me. It would suck to be caught with a boy in my room, but maybe then I’d feel like she cared.

I don’t respond. Chris relaxes beneath me as we hear her footsteps drift further away from my bedroom. Before I can truly let out the breath stuck in my chest, another knock occurs.

“Hey, I’m, uh, going to the gym, be back later.”

Baylen. He sounds annoyed to even have to be telling me through the door, but he walks off before I even have the chance to process his words.

Chris pulls me in tighter, kissing the crown of my head as he rolls us over, both of us on our side facing towards each other. “Are you…you okay?” he asks, bringing a hand upwards to caress my messy hair behind my face.

Giving him a blank look, I spare a small shrug. Chris wordlessly pulls me into his chest, cradling the back of my head as I bathe in the comfort of his arms.

“My ex…he’s gonna be Baylen’s new roommate apparently.”

The statement leads to silence. I feel the subtle tighten of his grip before it loosens, his chest heaving with a deep breath as his jaw clicks.

“Isn’t Baylen in college?” he asks, his voice horse and rough. I nod against him. Chris clears his throat, his hands shifting to comb through my hair again. “I…I’m trying not to push, but…but, help me out here…what’s going on? what’s this, um, what’s this…mean?”

I melt at his soft request. My nostrils flare as I take in a big inhale, letting my lungs fill before slowly letting the air fall through my lips. “We dated a while ago—almost two years ago, but—but, um, Baylen doesn’t know. I knew he’d freak if he found out I was dating a college guy–”

My words halt as Chris lets out a huff of air. He relaxes, his body collapsing into the bed as his hand soothes through my hair, almost as if it’s more his comfort more than my own.

“I hate him,” I breathe, my lips pursing together as I stare into his chest, “-I hate him so much and now he’s acting like he’s all buddy-buddy with my brother. It—fuck, it’s so stupid. I just wish…I wish he’d just…disappear.” I mumble, my words barely coherent.

Chris pulls away from me, looking down and peering directly into my eyes with his own. I feel my face grow hot, the lump in my throat unbearable as I try to swallow.

“If…if you need me, I’m here, alright?” he says, his voice firm and direct with a hint of sympathy laced in his features.

As I nod, he pulls me into his chest tightly. I let my body melt against his, breathing in his scent as I take a large breath of air.

This sucks—this is absolutely awful—but it doesn’t feel as horrible in his arms.

And at least that’s something.

___

I didn’t wait for Baylen to come home, Chris and I walked to his house, immediately greeted by a big hug from Jimmy as soon as we went inside the home.

A couple pieces of bacon and some hash browns later, we were both sitting on his bed, his hands on my hips as I straddled his lap, his eyes peering up at me with a soft gleam as the light rain patters harder against his window.

Jimmy had taken Trevor to some pet store. He asked if we wanted to come with, which I thought was really cute, but Chris said he wanted to ‘lay down and relax,’ which obviously required me.

He’s such a dumbass, but in a good way.

And Matt wasn’t even home, he was with Mia. The thought of them together made it impossible for me to let the smile fall off of my face, even more impossible when Chris kept showering me in affirmations.

“You’re pretty.”

His words make my pulse hammer against my chest, the repeated compliment resulting in my cheeks hurting from how red and tense they are.

My skin is crawling with warmth under his delicate touch on either side of my hips. I’m currently dressed in his sweatshirt and some sweats, but his fingers are underneath the fabric of the hoodie, resting above the hem of the pants with no intent other than to feel my bare skin against his own.

“Shut up, Chris,” I joke, pushing my hands through his hair playfully.

He leans into the touch. I watch as his eyes squint with a smile, his face flushed as he mumbles under his breath, “It’s true…can’t help it, baby.”

Oh.

Baby?

I freeze, my hands falling limp on his shoulders as I stare down at him with wide eyes. Chris bites on his lower lip, an evident smirk growing on his face as his eyes twinkle with mischief. My stomach drops, a knot of heat piling as he teasingly runs his hands up my sides.

“My bad, my bad,” he laughs, licking over his teeth as he squeezes lightly under my breasts with both hands. Chris lets his hands fall downward. The heat of his bare skin on mine dissipates as he rests his hands on the tops of my thighs.

He’s such a tease.

Greedily, I reach down, pulling his hands back underneath my clothes. Chris laughs, squeezing lightly onto my sides, tracing his fingers lightly. “Want me to touch you, huh?” he taunts.

Something burns inside of me from his words. I lean down, his eyes widening from the lack of distance. His breath fans across my lips. I let myself close the gap, my lips curling as I feel him slot his lips between my own.

A puff of laughter falls from my mouth as he holds the back of my neck, straining to close the miniscule distance between our lips as he slides his tongue across my bottom lip. I immediately let him venture the muscle into my mouth, his movements feeling slow and passionate.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, the vibration against the kiss making my chest tighten as I feel the pressure build between my legs.

The way he’s kissing me is everything—it’s warm, romantic, and torturously slow.

I feel his tongue slide against my own, my hands clutching onto his shoulder tighter as my balance wavers on top of him. Chris drops his hands back down to right below my breasts, gripping firmly to keep me steady as we pull away from each other, gasping for air.

“You—you good?” he pants.

I nod my head, dizzy with my ears ringing. Chris tugs at the hem of my sweats, his eyes plundering into mine with a pleading expression etched on his face.

“Can…can these come off? Can I…can I touch you?” he asks.

My eyes bulge from the question, my back arching slightly, an automatic reaction from his breathless request.

Nodding, I lift my hips as he tugs the fabric down, kicking the pants off and letting them carelessly fall to the floor. Cold air rushes up my legs, the shocking temperature change most apparent against my core as he pushes my inner thighs further apart while I straddle myself over his lap again.

“Fuck…” Chris mutters, his eyes entranced at the sight between my legs as both of his hands settle on my upper thighs, one of them inching upward as he looks up at me with yearning.

Biting my lower lip, I nod. Chris lets out a shaky breath, his fingers lightly tracing just along the hem of my underwear.

Oh god.

The cool air of his room intensifies as I feel myself grow wetter. His teasing touch travels right beside the bridge of my panties, the pads of his fingers delicately pressing against my core through the fabric as my jaw drops open.

My eyes plunder into his. He’s staring directly at me, his lips slightly parted as he hesitantly rubs the pad of his thumb in circles around my entrance through the thin cloth.

I let myself grind into the touch, a sharp breath erupting through my lips as he carefully drags his hand upwards, using three fingers to flatten and push against my heat, rubbing circles as I feel my clit ache beneath his touch.

“Chris,” I pant, my brows furrowing as he presses his hand further against me. The added friction makes my thighs quiver, my legs tensing as I try to create more movement.

Before anything intensifies, it stops.

My hips roll desperately, my muscles burning as I hear Chris gulp.

“Please, I—” I look down at him, watching his lips smack open and shut as he stares up at me with desperate eyes, “-please. Sit on my face, I…please,” he whispers, completely breathless as his hands massage over the tops of my thighs.

My body freezes hearing his request. He gently pulls on my hips, but I plant my hands on his chest, staring down at him with thoughts sprinting through my head.

“I’ve, um, I’ver never done that, I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he rushes, his eyes softening as he places his grip on either side of my hips, “-you won’t.”

Swallowing thickly, I feel my head get lighter. The thought of him between my legs like that makes my heart skip over a beat, but it also makes me nervous.

Well, nervous and excited. I can’t differentiate the two when he stares at me like he needs me more than anything.

“Please, baby, I…I want it so bad,” he purrs, his voice strained with longing as the nickname rolls off his lips naturally.

His words lure my thoughts to silence. Instincts radiate over my skin, consuming my racing heartbeat as I drag his hands to the side of my underwear, helping him as he drags the fabric down.

“Fuck—thank you,” he whispers, a heavy gulp from his end making my body itch with desire as I awkwardly shift to let my panties fall to the ground.

Chris directs me to straddle him again, this time pulling me upwards. I halt, my hands tangling in his hair as I hover over his face. Chris tugs on my hips, whining before staring up at me with pleading eyes.

“Just…let me know if I’m hurting you—”

“I will, I will,” he interrupts, licking over his lips as he peppers light kisses on the inside of my thighs.

Slightly lowering myself, I gasp as I feel him lick against my hooded clit. Chris moans from the taste, immediately pulling me harder onto him before starting to sloppily make out with the sensitive bud like he was with my own lips just minutes ago.

“Oh…oh—my god,” I gasp, my hands latching onto his head board as I feel his mouth desperately devouring me.

My hips buck against his face as he sucks onto my clit, my pulse thumping through every pore of my body as I feel his hands lock around my thighs, keeping me steady as he continues to eat me like he needs it to breathe.

“I—fuck, just…” he pants, my dripping slick against his lips echoing with a sloppy noise as he kisses me between his words, “-so good, tastes so damn good,” he praises, not wasting another breath between burying his tongue between my legs.

My mouth drops open. I feel his wet muscle prod against my entrance, tracing around the rim of my hole as I clench around nothing.

He slowly slides in his tongue, the intrusion feeling utterly intimate. “God, Chris,” I moan, his nose wiggling against my clit as he shakes his head softly from side to side.

One of his hands readjusts, his thumb writhing against my sensitive bud as I feel him crane his head to push his tongue even deeper inside of me.

He hums into me. The vibration makes an elongated moan fall from my mouth, the sound seeming like encouragement for him to repeat the same action again.

And again.

It’s so good. I can’t think of anything but him, the way he’s holding me—the way he’s making me feel.

Every inch of my body burns with a warm electricity, my limbs starting to tighten as I feel the knots in my stomach build with pressure.

I’m so close, but something is holding me back.

Chris seems to notice, pulling back breathless as he kisses my inner thighs between words, “-c’mon, just—relax. Let—let go for me,” he says, diving in even hungrier than before.

My body seems to comply with his words. I feel palpable to his touch, hot waves of bliss crashing over me relentlessly as he rubs on my clit, fucking his tongue into me with sloppy noises echoing in the room.

“Chr—fuck, Chris!” I yelp, my voice cracking as he rubs me just right, the feelings so consuming that the knot in my stomach bursts before I can even give him a proper warning.

My hips rock on his face. Chris slowly brings his actions to a stop, letting me ride out the high before helping me hover over his face as my legs shake on either side of his head.

“You’re…you’re perfect for me, you know that?” he praises, his words making me let out a humors sigh.

A breath halts in my chest as he lightly presses a kiss against my pulsating core again. I look down, watching as he gives me a sympathetic smile with devious eyes.

“Hmmmmm…sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he whispers, slowly helping me climb off and lay on the bed. I rest on my back, the sound of his shuffling barely registering as I try to ground myself.

The sensation of fabric gliding over my legs makes me look down. My eyes crinkle with amusement as he pulls my underwear over my hips, his eyes struggling to stay on my face as he licks over his lips while staring between my legs.

“All good?” he asks.

I nod, smiling as he spares me a soft grin, his eyes gleaming into mine as he slowly leans down, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of my underwear. “Good,” he murmurs.

My chest slows rising and falling as I reach my hand down to comb through his hair. Chris gets comfortable, laying on his side with his cheek resting against my pelvis and his arms hugging one of my legs as he kisses my thigh mindlessly.

“I thought you wanted to ‘lay down and relax,’ hm? What happened to that?” I tut, his words from earlier echoing through my head.

Chirs hums, clutching my leg closer in his hold. “I’ve been laying down and relaxing, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about...” he puffs, his voice silky and calm with a slight sarcasm that makes my nose scrunch from a lighthearted feeling washing over the energy in the room.

I really like him. I like how he makes me feel, I like how he tries to compromise and always tries to be mindful of my needs.

I like how he’s him—I like how he makes me feel like me.

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write4cench · 1 year ago

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kisses and braids.

summary: you braid central cee’s hair, but he seems to be a bit too distracted.

pairs: girlfriendreader x boyfriendcee

genre: fluff + making out?

word count: 1.2k

a/n: idk about u but something about braiding a mans hair just does it for me. 😩

“oakley, if you don’t stop moving i swear your braids won’t turn out right.” you complained as he leaned over to pick up something that he managed to drop on the floor, a smile only grew on his lips amused at your annoyance.

central cee and you were seated in the bedroom of your apartment as he found himself comfortable upon the floor, rested on a pillow within your legs whilst you were seated upon your bed.

it was a random time within the evening when the idea of braids came across his mind and of course he turned to you, pleading for you to braid his hair.

and now here you were, braiding his hair into cornrows and having been doing so for the past hour or so, only getting to about half of his head.

one thing about central cee is that he had a lot of hair, but for some reason despite your advice, he always decided to keep it underneath something.

“shit, does it have to be this tight?” he asks you as his tattooed hand comes to rest upon his newly braided hair, you giggled at his silliness.

“baby i’m sorry, but if you want them to look good for longer they can’t be loose.” you insist to him and he sighs, staring off towards the television in your room.

“i just wanna look good for my show this saturday.” he mumbles as he opens a packet of whatever it is that he decides to eat, eyes glued onto the screen.

you pick out a comb and part his head, pulling apart his hair as you do so. “you always look good, “ you start causing an adorable smile to grow on his lips, “why don’t you just keep your hair out once in a while?” you ask him.

he shrugs his shoulders, “i guess it’s too much work innit, at least now there’ll be something done to it.” he insists, implying towards the braids you do.

you pull off of his head and lean back checking out your job so far, unable to see the front you sigh. “can you like turn this way?” you ask him.

you tilt your head towards him to get a better view of the job you’ve done so far. the two of you make eye contact with one one another and a smile grows upon his lips.

“what’s funny?” you ask him confused, comb in other hand. he smiles brightly and adorably, “nah nothing, you just look cute when you’re focused.”

you roll your eyes upon hearing his words and it only makes him laugh, “shut up.” you mumble. “it’s real cute.” he continues.

the room fell quiet and you turned your focus back onto braiding as neat as you possibly could do so, you were on the final braid luckily so it wasn’t a hard job.

cench was too busy eating upon on the crisps within his hands as he found himself interested in whatever it was that he was watching, one thing about the two of you is although you might not talk a lot with each other, something about the quiet company is comforting.

his hand came to playfully hit against your leg in a rhythmic form, the sudden feeling wasn’t annoying but comforting knowing the way he would be playful with you.

“why are you hitting my leg now?” you ask him, slightly moving after each hit of his hand, he doesn’t stop instead continuing on not uttering an explanation causing you to let out a stressed sigh. "alright i guess you want to be annoying." you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

your hands focus on finish the braid, your hands interwinding his hair between one another as you approach the end, trying to finish it as fast as you possibly can, and when you do you sit back and glance at the finished product.

cench remains seated for a moment, filling his mouth, when he doesn't feel your hands on his hair he turns around to look towards you, eyes wide and hopeful, you beam.

"are we done?" he blinks and you nod your head, he exhales tired yet excitedly whilst you lean over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug from behind, he eases into your embrace.

"i'm tired." you yawn as you rest your hands for a short moment, "get some rest." you insists and you refuse, shaking you head.

as soon as you lean back he gets up from the floor, stretching for a short moment and you watch him do so. you take the chance to get up from the bed as well, standing beside him.

"wanna see how it looks?" you manage to say through a yawn, he only looks towards you with thankful eyes, pulling you into his arms.

you almost squeal at the sudden affection, his arms rest against your lower back as he holds you close, his eyes studying yours noticing how you pretend to wish to pull away from him.

"i asked you if you wanted to see your hair, not if you wanted to kiss me." you tell him and he tiredly laughs, arms still holding around onto you. "i don't care, why can't i be close with my girl?"

his head comes to teasingly rest against your shoulder and you giggle as you find a comfort in wrapping your arms over his own, you feel him pecker a few lips onto your skin and since your ticklish a few laughs manage escape through your lips.

"stop." you manage to say through your laughter a hand gently holding onto your head, but he only continues holding you close, you feel his lips form a grin against the skin of your neck.

as soon as he pulls apart you meet eye contact once again, you don't utter a word instead your smile lingers upon your lips and one mirrors upon his own. you lean in, your lips meeting his and he doesn't hesitate to kiss you back.

you kiss one another a passionate moment, enjoying the feeling. the sound of your lips against one another sounds throughout the silence and the comfort of your bedroom. you forget about everything, instead you're focused about spending this moment with the man who you truly love.

you pull away from the kiss when you feel it begin to grow a little too heated, feeling the tingles and sparks that flow throughout your body. playfully you push him away from you, his arms widen and his mouth drops jokingly confused yet enjoying the act.

"we need to stop there." you tell him warningly, it almost as if he knows the affect you have on him since he doesn't complain and you know that he knows.

"alright." he simply says.

nothing but love fills his eyes and it's almost as if you always catch yourself smiling whenever you're with him. "i love you." you say.

he remains quiet for a good moment, realising he's about to catch himself saying something he never thought he would, you watch him expectantly watching how his lips agape to utter the words, just when he's about to he buries his head into his hands.

"i love you too."

#cench #central cee #central cee imagines #central cee smut #central cee x reader #central cee x you #centralceeedit #central cee x y/n #central cee fluff

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xblackkurox · 2 years ago

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The Neighborhood

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, sub!reader x Dom!Toji, dirty talk, p in v, degradation, penetration, fingering, a bit of oral if you squint, slut shaming, big dick toji, you are doing it while Megumi sleeps, Toji is rough, spitting, unprotected sex (use it!), belly bulge, dacryphilia, cum eating, orgasm denial, Toji is a little mean, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed something!! And OFC: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!! This might be full of grammar mistakes since eng is not my first language, sowy :).

ENJOY BABES <3

In which you arrive to a new building to start a new life. Little do you know what type of neighbors await you.

First off, the older and tired single dad Toji, whom you help out with taking care of his kid a couple of times.

You looked around, hands in your hips. Finally, you say to yourself. It’s been a whole afternoon of unpacking and decorating, but your new apartment is officially done. You just arrived to this new building yesterday, first time living alone, actually first time moving out of your parent’s house.

The apartment was small, you didn’t really care and even if you did, that’s all you could afford at the moment. Looking at the bright side of it, it was quick to decor.

You wiped away a drop of sweat in your forehead, time for a shower.

Trail of your clothes to the bathroom, you turned on the shower and choose the artist for today. Arctic Monkeys it is. You enter the shower as the music starts blasting. The fresh water cleaning and relaxing you. The feeling is amazing, this is what freedom tastes like?

You are so immersed in yourself, vibing to the music and enjoying the water running down your body, you don’t even realize there is someone knocking at your door until the slams get hard enough.

Fuck, you swear to yourself. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and wrap it down your body. The knocking getting more and more insistent. You stop the song now playing and hurry to the door, still soaking.

“Going! Damn…” And you open the door.

Oh…

Tall, black haired, a scar on the corner of his lip. The too small for him shirt wraps his toned arms and chest, God you can even see his abs through it. His gray eyes looking at you, he’s obviously angry, but he still scans your barely covered body up and down.

“Turn the damn music down.” His deep voice commands.

“Why should I?” You raise a brow at him, annoyed that he is rudely scolding you for 10 minutes of some music. He ruined your well deserved relaxing shower.

He clicks his tongue before talking again, he looks like he’s having a hard time trying to control his tone while speaking. It’s actually pretty intimidating, specially because he is built like a wardrobe.

“Do you even know what time is it?” Before you answer back, he rises his hand slightly and stops you. “Late.” He states.

His fingers comb his dark hair back, he looks tired.

“Look, I live next door, I have a kid, and I’m trying to put him to sleep… So just stop being a brat and tone it down, alright?”

He almost sounds desperate. Your lips press together in an empathic and apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, didn’t know. It was just for my shower, so anyw…”

“Nice.” And he left to his still open door. Asshole, I should blast my music even louder now, you think to yourself.

You watch him walk and right before he closes the door to his apartment you see a little black haired kid rubbing his eyes. Well, maybe you behave for the little kid.

A couple of days later, you are eating some Chinese food in your couch when you hear a knock on the door. You stop scrolling down on your Instagram, put the food down on the table and head to the door.

When you open it, there’s no one… Until you look down. The little’s kid eyes wandering on the floor, you can see a slight blush on his cheeks. Squatting down to match his height, you tilt your head and give him a soft smile.

“Hello there… Is something wrong?” He seems a little cautious when talking to you.

“I can’t get inside the house… Dad is not here.”

“Well, do you know your dad’s number? I can call him.” The kid says no with his head.

“Ummmm… Alright, you can wait with me until he arrives, I’ll leave him a note on the door. Is that okay?” He nods, he hasn’t looked you once in the eyes yet.

He follows you into the apartment, you grab a post-it a quickly write there: “Your kid locked himself out of the house, he is with me. Atte: Your brat neighbor next door.”

Once it’s hooked to their door, you come back to your own house. The black haired child is standing awkwardly in your living room.

You sit in the couch and tap the place by your side.

“Sit here, we can watch TV.” He climbs beside you. “So, what’s your name?”

“Megumi…”

He’s so shy.

“And where’s dad?” Megumi looks directly at you for the first time.

“Working.”

“And you are alone?” A nod in response. “ Why were you out of the house?”

His cheeks blushing harshly, he looks away once again. He confesses anyway.

“There was a spider, the door closed.”

You hold in a laugh. “It’s okay, I am scared of spiders too. Now, are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” He declines politely. He is way more of a gentleman than his dad.

“You sure? I can order some pizza.” His eyes light up as he looks at you. “Pizza it is, then.”

Little by little, Megumi is loosening up a bit. He becomes more chatty while you eat pizza, he evens smile from time to time. You are getting done with dinner when knocks on the door interrupt you. Must be him.

You stand from the floor where you were with Megumi and walk to the door. The handsome man has the post-it in hand, his head peeks inside to check on the kid.

“He’s safe and sound, don’t worry.” His eyes lock with yours.

“Thank you…” He seems sincere.

“Wanna come in? He’s just finishing dinner.” His eyes widen while entering the apartment.

“Dinner? You didn’t have to…”

“I ordered pizza for me and shared, no big deal” You lie. He side eyes you, probably suspecting that’s not true.

He squats in front of Megumi. “How you doing kid? You’ve been good to the young lady, I suppose?”

Megumi nods, and shakes off the hand his dad places on his little head. Too focused on the TV. I laugh while sitting on the couch.

“Have a seat, don’t need to rush him.”

He sits beside you, his legs spread and his elbows on each knee. Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment, in this distance you can smell his manly scent. His eyes gaze at you.

“So, what’s your name, doll?” You answer. “Right, thank you again, y/n.”

You can tell by his deep voice how exhausted he is, so the next sentence you pronounce it carefully.

“Does Megumi stay alone at home often?” He remains silent for a moment, looking at you. Seemed like he was trying to figure out whether you were judging his parenting or not. Finally, he sighed and brushed back his hair.

“Nah, only when I work in the afternoons, not happens much… I usually work in the mornings and Megumi is at school.” His eyes looking down at his son, he’s finished with the pizza, but he is still enchanted with the movie on the TV.

You're playing with your own fingers in your lap, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“I could take care of him when that happens, I also work in the mornings.”

“Can’t pay for a babysitter.” He cuts you quickly.

“Wasn’t expecting to get paid. Megumi is a sweet kid, I wouldn’t mind taking care of him.”

The kid is sweet, but the dad is hot as hell.

His gray eyes light up slightly, he is looking so deep into you, you fear he could read your thoughts. He then looks at his son again.

“Hey Megu.” The kid turns his head to his dad with an annoyed grin. “Would you like to spend time here when dad’s not home?”

Megumi’s eyes look at you shortly. “Cool.” He simply answers, thumb up.

You laugh, a bit flattered with the kid’s approval. Toji sighs and gets up from the couch.

“Thank you doll. I’ll let you know beforehand each time.” The nickname giving you butterflies in your tummy.

“Sure.”

Toji grabs Megumi and puts him over his shoulder, walking to the door. The kid whines and demands to keep watching TV.

“Megumi be polite with the pretty girl and thank her.” Megumi obeys his father and mumbles a little “thanks” to you with embarrassment.

And like that, you became Megumi’s occasional babysitter.

……

You were laying in Toji’s couch, scrolling through your socials waiting for the man to get home. You putted Megumi to bed a while ago now, since it was already late at night.

You heard the keys on the lock and then the door opening. Toji’s lazy steps took a while to get into the living room. His eyes gazed at you as he took off his jacket.

“Comfortable there doll?” Were his first words as his gaze scanned your laying body.

“Megumi is in bed already.” You reply, putting away your phone and looking at him. His black bangs falling on his forehead, gray tired eyes.

“I figured.” He sits on the couch beside your feet.

“How’s work” You sit up on the couch.

“Good, actually got some news for you. I’ve been promoted at work, so from now on, ill be able to pay for an actual babysitter. You don’t need to do this no more.”

You clear your throat slightly before talking, don’t want him to notice the disappointment in your voice.

“Aw, so this is my last time baby sitting Megu?” He nods. “Hope I can still come around to hang out with him sometime.”

“I’m sure he would love that.” Would you? The question gets stuck in your chest.

“Well…” You say while getting up. “It’s been a pleasure-”

“Come sit on my lap.” He pats his thighs with his big hand.

“Wait… What?” You’re actually not sure if he said those words or your brain is playing a trick on you. Either way, you go red in your cheeks.

“You’ve heard me, sit on my lap.” Alright, he said that. You stay still. “Know you want it, so don’t make me repeat myself again.”

His voice sounds demanding and slightly annoyed. Even if you didn't want to, it would be hard to disobey him. Good for you that you wanted.

With shaky legs, you sit astride on his lap, your hands finding his hard chest for balance.

Now that you’ve obeyed him, his expression softens considerably. The scar on the corner of his mouth deforming into a mischievous smirk.

“There you go. Now don’t be so shy, I’ve seen how you look at me.” His big hand cups your face, his thumb gently rubbing your hot cheek. “Huh? Where did all your confidence go all of a sudden? Just wanna pay you back for taking care of my kiddo.”

The rough palm of his free hand teasing from your knee up your thigh, finding its way under your sporty shorts. Grabbing your ass cheek with no shame. Your legs tremble on top of him, your lips part as if to moan.

Toji lets out a mean chuckle before lifting you from your lap and throwing you back on the couch, you gasp as your back touches de cushions. The man wastes no time as he towers you and slides both your shorts and panties off your legs in a smooth motion.

“Oh? Toji!” Your voice coming out high-pitched.

“You better keep it quiet, doll face.” He spreads wide open your shaky legs. “Don’t wanna wake up Megumi now, don’t ya?”

Next thing you feel is two of his thick long fingers forcing its way inside of you, stretching you open. “W-wait.” You plead, trying to keep your voice lower this time.

“For what? You're already soaking wet, darling.” His palm smacks against your clit with each thrust, splashing your juices all over your belly and thighs.

“Fuuuuck-” A whine leaving your lips as he slides in another finger.

“Stop complaining, doin this for your own good.” He scissors and stretches you open, his thumb playing and rubbing in circular movements on your swollen button. With his other hand, he pulls your shirt over your bare breasts.

“Of course, not wearing bra, like the little whore you are.” He takes your nipple between his thumb and his index, pinching and pulling from it. You hiss, he’s too harsh. “You thought I was not gonna catch how your nipples always peek through your slutty clothes? Or maybe that’s exactly what ya wanted…”

He spits in your unattended breast right before spreading his saliva around your boob with his tongue. Your back arches when he teases with his teeth. Your hand covering your mouth, muffling soft moans.

Your hips start to roll back against his hand, a familiar tension building up in your stomach. By now, you already need to be biting on your fingers, so your pornographic sounds don’t get too loud. That’s when he pulls his thick, calloused fingers out from your pussy.

“You’re only cumming on my dick.” He sentences. “Now take off that shirt, don’t want it covering your pretty tits.”

As you do so, he also takes off his shirt. Exposing his very much toned torso, tell me about pretty tits. His gaze checking out your naked and spread body as he pulls down his trousers and boxers to his knees.

“Wait.” Your eyes widen.

You are no scared virgin, but you can’t deny the little sense of anxiety that settles in your chest when you see his size. Now you understand what he meant by that doing this for your own good comment.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit in.” Your voice coming out tremulous. His face turning into an almost cynical expression.

“Bet it does.” Your legs spread wider by his hands. By this point, it’s not even necessary, he just wants to see your soaking cunt on display for him. “And you're gonna take it with no nagging, got it?”

He doesn't even wait for an answer, a nod, some sort of approval. No, he is already pushing his thick and long cock pass your folds.

The sting of pain is immediate, making you shed some tears.

“Fuck Toji! It hurts!” His hand going to your mouth like a slap, except he keeps it there. Covering right under your nose, muffling any sound and pinning your head to the couch. You can taste yourself in the skin of his palm.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Threatening and deep voice, it shouldn’t turn you on so much.

Your eyes shut as he stretches you open and fills you up like you’ve never been before. He is looking down, watching how stuffed you are with his dick, a little bulge poking in your belly.

He moves, sliding himself out until just his fat tip is in, only to thrust all of him back in. Over and over again. The hand on your mouth, already wet with your tears and drool.

His jaw is clenched, growling in a predatory way.

“Don’t be so dramatic doll, from the way your sensitive cunt is throbbing and sucking me in I can tell you like it.”

He sets a fast pace, and finally he stops muzzling you. He chuckles when he sees your expression, watching how he already turned you into a whimpering mess.

Both his hands going to grip your waist, pushing your body down to meet his brutal ramming. He is gonna leave bruises there. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

“Nnnnnngh- so full-” Your fingers are grabbing the cushions, holding in for dear life.

“Fuck- I didn't think you were going to be so tight… Based on how slutty you look.”

Drops of sweat running down his pectorals to his abs, his skin shiny, just like yours must look too. Your breasts bouncing up and down with the back and forth of his hips.

Each time, being harder to swallow your own moans, as the pain fades away and the intense pleasure of being full replaces it.

Toji is fucking you out of your senses, losing consciousness of where you are and, of course, of how loud you are being.

He pulls out for a second, flipping you on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up, making your knees bend. Ass up for him. “Bite the damn cushion, since you can’t be fucking quiet.”

At first, you don’t do it, but when he thrusts back in, his pelvis smacking your booty cheeks, you hurry to grab a cushion and stuff your mouth with it.

You can hear him chuckle meanly behind you, hands massaging and spreading your ass as he keeps charging against you.

The plushie muffling your struggled cries.

“That’s it… next time we fuckin at your place, gonna make you bounce on my dick and be as loud as you want, alright doll face? Wanna hear those sweet whimpers of yours.” You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, nodding. You look so fucked up, a stray tear rolling down your blushed cheek. That view only fuels Toji’s lust, he goes harder and reaches deeper.

One of his hands wrap around your hair and yanks you up, your back pressed against his board chest. His other hand goes to your neck, choking you slightly. Not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to keep your sounds at bay.

Like this, he reaches too deep, hitting your cervix over and over again. You are getting closer, dangerously quickly. Your eyes roll back, and your hands search something to grip desperately, finding his forearms to dig your nails on.

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long.” You weren’t even doing that on purpose, you weren’t doing anything voluntary right now. Your mind too far gone to have any type of control over your body.

“Gonna cum inside, you are so sweet to my kid bet you would be a good mama huh? Want me to put a baby in you?”

You definitely not wanted to be a mother right now, but those words hit something primal within you. You nodded, head falling back in his shoulder.

“Yeah! Fill me up!” His grip in your throat and waist tighten after your words, the ramming so animalistic pushing you over the edge.

Your eyes rolling back, toes curling, whole body spasming, mouth wide open letting go hoarse and struggled babbling.

Toji cums right after, with some final sloppy thrusts. Filling your insides with his seed.

“Fuck- taking me so good-”

He lets go of you after a moment, causing you to fall to your previous position, back arched and ass lifted, eyes shut while you pant. Toji watches in delight how the mix of his cum and your juices drool out of you. The view enough to make him hard again.

“You alright there doll face?” His voice was hoarse and sounded out of breath. His hands wrapped around your waist to flip you around. He chuckled at your fucked out expression.

You bat your wet eyelashes at him, finally coming back to reality, a little nod to his question.

“Good. Now, how many times you’ve taken care of Megumi?”

You tilt your head, confused by the sudden question and still gasping for air.

“Like five?”

With a nod, he crawled back in the couch, lowering in between your thighs. His tongue sticking out and lapping at your sensitive cunt. Recollecting the mix of both your cums. You squirm and hiss, overstimulated.

“Four more and we’ll be even.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #jjk fic

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stark-ironman · 6 months ago

Text

Dancing in the Rain

18+ No Minors

A/N: no really many warnings, mentions of smut but that's it mainly fluff. I wanted to write a little something for my fellow Americans who are upset this past week. It's not much but it's something! Love you all.

Hugh knew the moment the rain started pouring, that your mood was fixing to go from bad to worse. You had a bad week at work and have been arguing with your family a little more than usual so Hugh suggested he grill out for dinner and it cheered you up, right up until now when the rain decided to ruin that.

"Perfect ending to a perfect week." You grumbled as you walked past the kitchen window. "It's not that bad, darling. I can still cook something if you want." Hugh suggests, trying to cheer you up. "It's fine. I think there's some soup in the freezer we can heat up." You say as you walk over to the fridge.

Hugh sighs, knowing that you're not being cold on purpose but it still hurts his feelings when you act like this towards him, especially when he's done nothing wrong. "C'mon. I have an idea." He says holding his hand out for you. "Hugh, I just want to eat and go to bed." You tell him.

"Darling, please." His voice stays soft but you can tell by his tone he's getting annoyed. You grab his hand and he opens the sliding door, pulling you outside. "Hugh!" You exclaim as the rain soaks you both immediately.

His hands wrap around your waist and pull you to him as he starts swaying side to side. "Remember our first date when we danced in the rain?" He asks, feeling you start to relax at the memory. "After the restaurant messed up our reservation and the picnic you tried to take me out to later on." You reminisce, smiling softly as he twirls you.

"Everybody said that it was a sign this wasn't meant to be but baby," Hugh dips you, holding onto tightly while he stars in your eyes, "That day only made me want more of you." You push the hair out from his forehead, kissing him deeply.

He stands you up again and you both start dancing more, giggling as he lifts you up and spins the two of you around. His chin sits on your stomach as you look down at him with a big smile.

You wrap your legs around his waist, holding his face in your hands as you admire each little wrinkle you've fallen in love with. "I'm sorry that I've been such a pain lately. I don't deserve the patience you've given me.' You softly say, hoping he can hear over the sound of the rain.

"You have every right to be mad, darling. All that matters to me is that you feel safe enough with me to let your emotions out. I will do anything to make you feel better." He tells you while your hands attempt to comb his hair back. "How about we go back in the house and I make it up to you?" You ask with a small smirk. "I think I would love that. And after you do that, I will help you out with remembering nothing but my name." His voice quickly turns deep, causing a blush to spread across your face as he carries you inside.

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman smut #logan howlett #hugh jackman imagine

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ri-writes-if · 7 months ago

Note

Oracle falls into some river/pond and the Ros have to go now fish out the poor soaked rat looking thing.

I wrote a thing 👉👈 or five. A little suggestive!

A soft gasp sounds before the water swallows you. Between that and Vez carrying you to the surface passes less than ten seconds. You hear a heavy flap of wings, but as you turn your head to look behind Vez’s back, they disappear.

A shiver runs through your body, the chilling air biting your skin. Vez stands on the ground near the pond, dripping wet just like you. They don’t put you down yet.

Vez looks over you—over your soaked clothes—in a slow inspection. Your face feels suddenly hot.

They give you a knowing look, and a sly smile appears on their lips. “Should I help you warm up?”

Os looks at you, unimpressed. “If you wanted to swim, you could just say so.”

You throw them a glare. “Help me up.” It’s a petulant tone no one in their right mind would use with Os, but you couldn’t care less about your manners right now. You raise your hand, swimming closer to the edge.

Os arches a brow, not hurrying to help you. “It seems like you’re doing just fine. I’m sure you can get out by yourself.”

You grip their legs and pull them forward. Os eyes widen, but they react too late.

After falling into the water, they quickly rise to the surface and wipe their face. They’re not annoyed. Instead, they look at you blankly for a second.

“Fine.” They smile slowly, their gaze hardening. “Let’s play.”

Your teeth chatter, and tears well up in your eyes. “This is cold. You’re insane.”

Laz sighs in pleasure, throwing more water into their face. You swim near them, looking at them sullenly. Noticing your expression, they draw closer and pull you into their embrace. Their body is still hot somehow, so you press against them, putting your hands on their back to warm yourself.

“Relax,” they say with a smile. “It’ll get better in a moment, once you get used to the temperature.”

“Get used… my ass,” you mutter.

They pinch your backside, making you gasp. You swat their arm.

“I’m at my wit’s end,” you complain. “One more thing, and I’m getting out of here or crying.”

They caress your cheek, wiping either a tear or a trail of water. “I could try to make you cry for another reason if it’d help.”

You want to say it wouldn’t, but they swallow your complaint with their lips.

Ash throws their dry robe over your body. You’re cold, but so are they, yet they don’t look like it. While you’re shivering, with your teeth chattering, they stand calm, like nothing has happened. The only traces of the incident are their wet clothes and the water sliding down their face.

“Sorry,” you mutter as they tie up the robe for you. You want to say something else, especially seeing as they don’t react, but before you can, they raise you into their hands. You inhale sharply.

“I could comb your hair,” you offer as another apology. “You’re not angry, are you?”

“Why would I be angry with you?” they ask, baffled.

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I was thinking about the quickest path to our chamber. And that you need a warm bath.”

“You don’t?”

Their cheeks flush at your question. They avoid looking at you, but they nod briefly. You hum.

“We need a warm bath,” you say, “so let’s share.”

Though they keep their expression blank, the blush spreads to their ears. You smile and lean in to place a kiss on their cheek.

You would’ve cursed your clumsiness a minute ago, but now it doesn’t seem so bad.

Their arms circling around your waist, Az quickly pulls you to the surface. You both gasp for air. The chilling water makes your limbs ache. You turn to them, wanting to thank them for help, but when you see them, the words don’t come.

They look beautiful even like this, with their hair wet and their skin glistering with water drops. They’re beautiful—and very, very close.

They notice it too, their gaze slowly rising from your mouth to your eyes. “Well, here we are,” they whisper, their warm breath touching your lips.

You hum, unable to look away from them.

“Was this your plan all along?” they ask with a playful smile.

Instead of answering, you lean in to kiss them.

#the abyssal song #asks #tas: snippets #tas: vez #tas: os #tas: laz #tas: ash #tas: az #interactive fiction #interactive game #interactive novel #twine wip

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creepling · 1 year ago

Text

⋆.˚☀︎٠ ࣪⭑ A KNOCK AWAY

synopsis: returning packages and a broken washing machine lead you to spend the night with your hot neighbour, digger harkness.

tags: smut - minors dni. fem!reader. age difference (early 20s x late 30s). domestic elements. reader described as "shy" but not really. sexual tension. alcohol use. drinking games. awkward moments. oral (f receiving). couch sex. big dick (it's canon it's out of my control!!!). p in v. creampie. 4.4k words.

Your neighbour had a habit of ordering ludicrous amounts of packages but is never at home to collect them. It was almost every day they arrived and piled at your front door. The last few days you’ve knocked on his door to give them, but met by silence. Your small apartment is running out of room if any more decide to show up. You had been going in the afternoons once you came off work, but he either didn’t answer or wasn’t in. This time, on Saturday morning, you decided to knock on his door. Who cares if it’s the weekend, or it’s too early, you were determined to get those packages out of your house.

You knock gently at first and wait for a minute. No answer. A week. A whole week of this bullshit. Impatience clouds your sympathy, and you knock on the door harder. You hear a thud, a clank of glass, and a curse on the other side of the door. You knock again, calling up a groan of annoyance and an “I’m coming!”

The door opens, and you’re greeted by your neighbour for the first time since you moved here. He is shirtless, showing off a collection of tattoos. His mop of hair hadn’t met a comb yet; still scuffled by sleep. You could tell he was older, and you were taken aback by how attractive he was. Given in a rugged way. You half-expected a balding divorcee with a beer belly.

“You’re George, right? I live next door,” You introduce.

Eyes squint and bloodshot, he looks you up and down before nodding. “You know what time it is, sunshine? Too bloody early to be knocking on people’s doors.” He said, fighting through a hangover to communicate. The twang of an Aussie accent was the second thing to surprise you. Even with the twang of annoyance in his tone, you bite your cheek to fight off a flattered smile.

Your bashfulness forces you to ditch the defiant speech you prepared. “I’m aware of that- but I’ve tried to get a hold of you all week, but you seem to not be in during the afternoon.” You shuffle to your open door, grab one of the packages and gesture it to George, “There’s a ton of packages here for you.”

George’s annoyed face began to soften, and he let out an idle chuckle. “Shiiiiit, I forgot about those!”

He opened his door wider and began collecting the parcels from you. You got a peek inside his apartment. Your suspicions of his home were accurate, resembling what all men living alone succumb themself to; their own squaller.

“Thanks for holding onto them for me. And sorry for being cranky, hangovers, y’know?” George said, his tone now different, one more pleasant. You smile, feeling pleased that you have the chance to converse with a neighbour and know who lives next door.

“Hope you had a good night so it’s worth it,” you chuckle, taking a stack of the packages and shuffling to his door. George takes them from your hands swiftly. This left you standing by his door, looking around the living room, stumped on the small talk. You were never really good at this.

“I mean- it was alright. They just hit you more when you get older,” he dropped the remaining boxes by his door, rubbing his temples as he stretched. His abdomen extended, shifting the waistband of his pants, making you look away and stand in silence. George scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you, feeling the interaction fade to a farewell.

“I better get going, you’ve got a lot to unbox,” you say, slowly backing away.

George gets to the door, nodding and shooting you a smile. “Thanks again for keeping them safe.” You could have sworn he looked you up and down, in a different way this time. Sizing you up, for other means. Maybe it was your imagination.

You meekly wave before retreating to your apartment. With the packages gone, your eyes adjust to the clear space, and the lingering images of your neighbour hot in your thoughts.

The washing machine was stuck again, and no matter how hard you hit it, it was still broken. Today is not going well, and you were on the edge, especially since the only other machine in the block has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. You rub your hands along your face, the skin already flushed from anger. A shuffle of footsteps approaches the entrance, and you reveal yourself to see who is witnessing your self-pity.

“Useless fucking thing, ain’t it?” It was George, the first time you’ve seen him in clothes that weren’t pyjama pants with socks and slides. He looks like he’s back from work, or the gym, it is hard to tell. You did wonder what he did for a living.

“I’m lucky it broke before I put my laundry in,” You look at the bright side with heavy eyes and a half-assed smile.

“Well, I don’t wanna brag, but I do have a machine. Wouldn’t mind ya using it until they fix it,” George shrugs with a ‘no big deal’ attitude. Suddenly your neighbour was a beacon of hope, and the stress left you with a sigh of relief.

“That would be really helpful, thanks,” you pick up your laundry basket, following up the stairs. He hunched the duffle bags over his shoulder. Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks his front door and lets you in first, taking a look at his living room and huffing. “Sorry about the mess.”

Beer bottles and cans littering the coffee table, clothes on the floor or hanging from the couch and chairs. You take one breath and smell the stale air, keeping a straight face. “It’s okay,” You smile through it, not wanting to place judgment. Maybe he’s just a busy guy.

George quickly shows you the settings on the machine (which he wasn’t so sure about) before excusing himself to the shower. Before you could ask questions, he was dashing to the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. You load the machine, press the button and hope for the best.

Alone in his apartment was daunting and you begin to explore. Mostly focused on the messiness, the environment nagging at your senses. Clean space, clean mind, as they say. You pick up the trash and throw it out, starting with the beer cans. Luckily you didn’t find anything too disgusting, with the odd dirty plate you could place in the sink. You open the curtains, coughing from the dust and open the window to release the smell of stale pizza and beer. Your mind is clearer, you go to wash your hands until you spot George standing by the entrance of the living room in awe. He is still in his towel, his right hand clenching the side to keep it in place, his hair wet and slicked back. You turn away immediately, looking anywhere but him, a kick of adrenaline overtaking your insides.

“Wasn’t aware I ordered room service,” he joked, amused by your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry- I should have just left and come back later for the laundry. But- I don’t know- your place looked like it needed a tidy-up. I can’t help myself, it’s a habit. God- I’m so stupid-”

“Don’t get your undies in a twist, it’s fine. I appreciate it,” George reassures, rubbing the back of his neck, “As you can see, I don’t get many visitors.”

When he closes the bedroom door to change, it’s safe for you to look again. That feeling in your stomach didn’t go away, it still brewed in the pit and crawled its way up your core. It makes you think about him again, like those sleepless nights after your first encounter, and your cheeks grow hot. Maybe this is a good time to slip out and avoid him like the plague. But what else would you be doing? Watching TV? Playing video games? All alone in your apartment, like you always are. That’s how your life has been, work, home, bed; absent of social life, of anything remotely adventurous. You keep your feet firmly on the ground, chewing your lip in thought. There was a time when you lived life on the edge, out every weekend, hooked up with people. Letting your old self come out to play wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies? I could do the rest for you if you want,” you call, inching towards the bedroom door so he can hear you. He opens the door quickly, startling you, wearing casual grey sweatpants and a white tee.

“Are you like a freelance maid or something? This how you get clients?” He leaned an arm on the door frame, looking down at you. He becomes the only thing in eyesight and you freeze, giving a shy smile.

“No, I just like cleaning, that's all. You seem like you need it, being a busy guy and all.” You study his eyes, wondering if he sees right through you.

George slowly nods, then snaps his fingers, heading towards the front door and sliding his shoes on. “Tell you what, love. I have to run a few errands, while I’m out I’ll leave you to it.”

You frown, crossing your arms. “You’re just gonna leave me, your neighbour you’ve met like once, in your house alone? You trust me like that?”

He shrugs, taking one of the duffle bags full of… something. “I’ve got many weapons I can pull on you if you try anything. Plus, you’re young and don’t look that strong, so I think I can take you on.” You weren’t sure if he was joking, but there was a cheeky look in his eye that allowed you to chuckle.

“That would do it. You can trust me.”

George gives a little salute, exiting the door. “Stuff’s under the kitchen sink. Good luck!”

You look at his limited supply, an empty bottle of bleach and a mysterious liquid in a spray bottle. You decide to use your supplies, grab them from your apartment, and come back to start the work.

You collapse on the couch gasping for air. People underestimate how much energy it takes to clean, especially when cleaning George’s house. Within an hour you cleaned the living room and kitchen and hung up your laundry to dry in your apartment. The worst part was the vacuuming, as like not owning cleaning supplies, he also didn’t have a vacuum. Go figure.

George eventually returned, greeted by your efforts and your limp body sprawled on his couch. You quickly got up, hoping he didn’t mind. Heck, this guy doesn’t have a vacuum, he can’t be the judge. “So, what do you think?” You anticipate.

“You did a bloody good job, I’ll tell ya that,” a smile on his face, making you smile too. “And since ya the best neighbour on this side of Metropolis, I got ya a lil payment to say thanks.”

George pulls out a crate of beers and takeaway pizza, presenting them to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you smile at the thought. “Thanks, George.”

“Please, call me Digger, everyone calls me that,” he said, “Thought we could have a couple of beers and I’d feed ya, but I’m no chef, hence the pizza.”

“So, Digger… is this you inviting me over for dinner?” You ask, pursing your lips. He thought about it and then nodded his head. “I guess I am,” he smirks.

Pizza crusts and beer cans decorate the coffee table, the television musing low music. You laugh at a joke Digger told you, hiding your mouth to not spit all over the place. He sits low on the couch, his hands resting between his legs with a beer. With your legs close to your chest, you take a sip of beer when a silence falls between you.

“Thanks for having me, I’m having a lovely time.” You confess, a little tipsy. You get shy admitting that, focusing on the music, unaware of Digger’s eyes not leaving your sight.

“I didn’t have a college kid cleaning my house on my bingo card,” he muses teasingly, smirking at your bashful smile.

“I am not a college kid! I graduated ages ago.”

“And by ages ago you mean in the last five years?”

He chuckles at your look of defeat. “Says the guy who’s five years off getting a pension,” you tease in defence.

“I’m not that old!” He defended back, “Nowhere near it!”

“Well, you’re at least old enough to clean your own house and have a vacuum.”

“You got me there…” he says into his beer.

The silence fell between you once again, but surprisingly it was not awkward. The air was thick, and not with stale air like before. You convince yourself it’s one-sided, keeping yourself together. You had an idea, but it was juvenile. When he doesn't say anything to keep the conversation going, you go on and suggest it.

“How about we play truth or drink?”

“How old are you? Five?” He scoffs.

“We already established my age, remember? C’mon, it’ll be a good icebreaker. Don’t you wanna get to know your friendly neighbour?” You nudge his arm playfully, realising you’ve been going that a lot since you had a drink. Mostly when he told a joke. You try not to cringe, realising your inferiority. He probably thinks you’re immature, and you suddenly see yourself as a fool. But when he turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention while cracking open another beer, you feel a little better about yourself.

“Who’s asking first?” He asks.

You volunteered since you suggested playing. You turn towards him, fighting through a fit of giggles, liking the way his eyes smile at you. He has nice eyes, light in colour, a mix of blue and grey with crow's feet winging the sides.

“Okay, let’s start easy. How long have you lived on the block?” You ask.

“‘Bout five months, I’d say,” he says.

“Do you move around a lot?”

“Oi, thought you ask one question at a time?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just curious,” you dart your eyes to his smirking lips before looking away.

“To answer your other question, I do move around a bit. It’s a job thing.”

You look back at him, catching his stare, the one that never seems to fade from you. You like the way he stares at you, so attentive like he refuses to have you out of his sight. It’s the type of stare that makes someone feel special.

“My turn,” he chirps, “are you always this shy around people?”

“What? I’m not shy,” you scoff.

“Really? You’re not shy?”

“What happened to starting easy?”

“No, you said that. I didn’t. I never start easy,” he says haughtily.

You roll your eyes, taking the beer can to your lips and taking a sip. Digger scoffs in shock, “No way are you drinking to that.”

“It’s a ridiculous question, plus I technically did answer the question. I’m not shy.”

Digger shakes his head in disappointment, breaking eye contact to chuckle into his hand. You narrow your eyes, readying the next question.

“Do you have a wife and kids?” You ask.

Digger didn’t act like you struck a nerve, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He shook his head, and you take that as an answer, not wanting to press further. Yet, he begins to speak, in a tone softer than the one you’ve been getting used to;

“I know at my age I probably should, but it’s never worked out, y’know? The whole love thing I’ve never gotten the hang of.”

You resonate with him, meekly returning a smile. “Me either.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Digger said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re good-looking. Woulda bet somebody snagged ya by now.”

You can’t help but chuckle, hearing how wrong his words are. “I guess I’ve gotten close before, but it was never meant to be.”

Digger nods in agreement like he is in the same boat. You had a strong urge to move closer to him, but resort to fidgeting with a thread on the coach. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Mine,” Digger returns his gaze to you. It was more intense, and you feel him all over you. As you grow the courage to meet his eyes, you see them trailing from your lips to meet you, his icy eyes darkening and lips parting as he readies his words.

“How would you feel about kissing me?”

Your stillness speaks volumes to him, and from the look of shock in your eyes, Digger’s smile fades and turns sour. He hides his face in his hands, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck- Just drink to that, it was bloody stupid,” his self-depreciation eats at you and you try and find the words to explain yourself. He was right, you were shy, and it got in the way of your feelings. So much for being the big flirt like you planned.

“No, it’s fine, honestly-”

He cuts you off, “I just thought- why else would wanna hang out with an old fuck like me? Keep my packages, clean my house,” he groans out a sigh, “and the way you look at me, fuck, it’s been driving me insane all day.”

“Digger-” you catch his attention, softening your face, and placing your beer on the coffee table. You shift your body closer to his, your movement swift but gentle. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”

He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the proximity, noticing the small details of your features, the softness of your lips. He swallows back his nerves, “Nah- you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

There is only one way to prove him wrong, and you did it by making the first move. You press your lips against him, and you're struck with his immediate touch as he engulfs you in his arms. Your hands snake up his chest to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he beckons you to press your body against him with his firm hold. He grins into the kiss at the sound of your whimpers, holding the small of your waist and guiding you to his lap. You go with the motion, swinging your leg around and straddling him, enamoured by the hold he has on you. The makeout was sloppy, tipsy on beer and getting more drunk on each other’s lips. Digger’s kisses were firm and deep, his chapped lips coated in your sweet spot as he glided his tongue along yours. His hands lay haven on your asses, rubbing his callous palm around the fabric of your pants, enchanting your hips to move ever so slightly.

“Ain’t so shy now, are ya?” He grunts into your ear, migrating his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your faint skin. You see stars, closing your eyes in bliss, your fingers tugging at his shirt and fighting off the urge to rip it off. He takes the time to remove his t-shirt with your eager assistance, latching onto you once you discard it.

“Please, I need you,” you plead. You gaze down at him, your stare both close and far. His bucking hips invite your crotch to feel his length, the tip of his bulge grinding against your thigh.

He whispers to you, “Tell me what you want.”

“Use me, I know you want to,” you taunt, enjoying the light that ignites in his eyes, his grip tighter on your skin.

“You’ll regret saying that, but I bet you can handle it,” he jesters, pulling your hair to expose your neck, his lips latching back onto your sweet skin. His other hand pushes your top over your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples. Licking towards your nipples, sucking on them gently and cupping your tits in his hands, grazing his teeth when you grind down on his erection.

Digger, hungry for more of you, lays you down on the couch. His eyes demand your attention, taking time to pull down your pants and underwear, drenched in your arousal. He lowers his head to your cunt, prying your legs open as you try to hide how wet you were.

“Don’t hide from me, love, show me how pretty you are,” he muses, admiring your glistening walls, lapping them tenderly with the tip of his fingers. Relishing in your squirms, he gazes at you under his lashes. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Your hands grip his hair when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive walls, his prominent nose snug on your clit as he eats you out. His movements are deep and steady, keeping himself in place between your quivering thighs, refusing to come up for breath as a rising feeling of release fills your insides. Shifting his tongue from your walls to your clit, his nose taking place not to neglect your pleasure, his eyes checking your reactions as his pride swelled from your raptured state. He takes a breath to tease you in between, his hoarse voice wavering against your heat, “Look at you, getting so worked up for me.”

“’m so close,” that was music to Digger’s ears, egging him on to keep up the pace.

Your whimpers rise into moans, and your thighs shiver under his grip and come undone. Digger doesn’t stop, pressing a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place so he rides out your high. You’re flushed in humility, but fuck it feels amazing. You break a sweat, shivering at the cooling of your hot skin, sighing in relief when Digger finally relaxes his hold on you. His face meets yours, your arousal coating the stubble on his chin and spreading to his chops. He is ferocious and light-headed – as if drunk on the taste of you.

“Hope you’ve still got some spunk in ya,” he pants, “I’m as stiff as a board here.”

Digger invites your hand to feel his erection. You didn’t think he could be harder than he was before, but he comes full of surprises. He slings the waistband of his trousers down and his cock springs free, twitching at the touch of your flinching fingers.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Blessed by the man himself, his size was insane. You straighten in intimidation.

“I’ll go slow, okay? Just- fuck- I’m bursting at the seams here,” he begs, cupping your cheek with a reassuring hand.

You nod with a morbid curiosity, unable to deny the instinct to have him inside you, to feel every inch of him. Digger litters you in kisses, sloppy and idle as he dampens your cheeks and lips. Opening your legs wide, sucking in a breath, you watch as he lines his cock to your entrance. There was no fuss in sliding inside you, your dripping cunt lubing his tip and coating his shaft, the feeling of him inside you more filling than painful. It sets a spark in your mind, your eyes distant, the twitch of his cock against your walls melting your senses.

An unexpected moan escapes Digger’s lips, but he is attentive enough to coo for your attention, holding your face and bringing you back to earth.

“You still with me, hun?” He chuckles at your dazed look, trying to keep himself together as you tighten around him. You blink back to reality and wrap your legs around him, mewling at the slow thrusts coming into you. You eventually nod a reply, straining your neck to witness his cock buried inside you to train your hole for his massive size. He takes advantage of your position, locking a hand behind your head and picking up the pace. He is smitten by your squeaks. His rough hand clenches your hip, setting out to fuck you good. As you will soon learn, Digger has a habit of getting carried away. You learn a lot of dirty things about him that both shock you and fill you with sweetly sick lust.

Digger has you bent over the arm of the couch, his cock pummelling in and out of your abused cunt, muffling your feral moans with a hand clasped over your mouth. He arches your back and presses his lips against your ear, reminding you that he can see right through you.

“Is this what you wanted? To fuck you; get you drunk on my fat dick. Bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”

“You’re so good, so ‘fucking good,” you moan, your eyes glued to him with lust, a sly smile across your face. Digger sticks two fingers into your mouth, teasing your tongue to swirl around them, smirking at your eagerness.

“Shit, that’s enough to make me finish,” he says in a low voice, “And you wouldn’t want me cumming inside you, would ya?”

The way you clench around his dick and the sidious look in the dim light suggest the opposite. “No, come inside me,” you seal the deal.

“You’re so bloody dirty.” Digger’s eyes turn dark, his hand wrapping around your neck, rutting into you faster and harder than before. You see stars, giving into the numbing pleasure you succumb to. A dumbfound smile stretches across your lips once you feel the warmth of Digger’s seed filling your cunt, hitting against your womb. His weight falls on you momentarily, leaving kisses along your back while his energy is slowly sucked out of him. His cock slips out and before his heavy eyes close over, he gazes at the cum dripping from your slit, groping your ass for a better view.

Digger gathers his senses, only noticing you struggling to get up from your stiff knees. He brings you onto his lap, soothing your legs and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, that was something…” He chuckles, “Ya think we got a little carried away?”

“I think I’ll never be able to walk again,” you joke, yet anticipated the next few days entailing leg pain.

He felt guilty, knowing to make up for it he would need more than pizza and beer. He continues to sooth your legs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“How’s about I run you a bath?” He suggests.

There he is again, that beacon of hope. He is going to find it hard to get rid of you now. “That’d be amazing.”

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #the suicide squad #kill the justice league #ssktjl #smut #dc fanfic #ehhh might be a lil ooc it's my first time writing him sorryyy

638 notes · View notes

whimsicalpolitical · 2 months ago

Note

ross beard right now… ross beard right now… thinking thoughts….

you and me both

18+mdni, oral ( f receiving)

ross is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fingers combing through his hair as he gathers it all up, twisting it into a bun. his beard looks thicker than ever, dark and full, a striking contrast against the soft bathroom light. he’s smoothing down stray hairs with a lazy sort of precision.

“d’you reckon i should shave it then?” he asks, eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “a bit maybe?”

“absolutely not,” you blurt out, zero hesitation. it’s instant, forceful, like the idea of him shaving is actually offensive.

ross turns around slowly, eyebrow raised, lips twitching with amusement. “that was fast.”

you shrug, trying to appear unbothered as you glance down at your laptop. “don’t. shave. it.”

“why’s that?”

you shrug again, not trusting yourself to answer properly. because saying something like it looks good on you would just make him dig deeper.

ross hums, low and drawn-out. he walks over to you, steps measured and deliberate until he’s standing right between your legs, towering over you, that maddening grin on his face.

“hm?” he tips your chin up with his thumb, forcing you to look at him. “don’t think you’ve ever been this passionate about my appearance, love.”

“it looks good on you,” you say, maybe a bit too defensively. “like, really good.”

“yeah?” his head tilts, like he’s not entirely convinced. “is that it?”

“i- i guess,” you whisper, your gaze falling to the laptop like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

“come on, love. humor me. can’t be only that.” his thumb strokes along your jaw, feather-light. “can’t be. you got all flustered there, didn’t you?”

“no,” you mutter, even though the warmth creeping up your neck betrays you.

“no?” his smile widens, “not even a little bit?”

you glare up at him, cheeks burning. “you’re being annoying.”

“i have to be,” he laughs softly. “sounds like someone’s just bein’ stubborn.”

you bite your lip, but the way he’s looking at you, gaze all heavy-lidded and relentless, makes it impossible to play it cool.

“you like it, don’t you?” he asks, but it’s not really a question. “the beard.”

you manage a small nod.

“and why’s that?”

“it’s just- ” you swallow, ”it’s just nice. suits you.”

“you said that already,” he points out, his tone infuriatingly patient. “gotta do better than that.”

you scoff and roll your eyes, trying your best to not actually say it.

he chuckles, the sound all rumble and warmth. “it tingles a bit when i kiss you, yeah?”

“sometimes,” you admit, quiet.

“but that’s not why you like it,” he pushes further.

“maybe.”

“maybe,” he repeats, the grin on his face broadening. “y’know, you’re rubbish at lying.”

“i’m not lying,” you argue, but your voice lacks conviction.

“no? so if i asked you if you liked how it feels when my mouth’s on you,” he pauses for dramatic effect, watching you squirm, “you wouldn’t have anything to say to that?”

“right?” his eyes stay fixed on you, refusing to let you wriggle out of this.

“i- ross,” you squeak.

“i like when you talk to me, you should know that by now,” his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, gaze dropping there for just a second before returning to your eyes. “i like when you tell me what you want.”

“you already know what i want.”

“yeah, but i wanna hear you say it, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and coaxing. “you like how it feels, don’t you? when my mouth’s on you.”

you can’t stop the small, desperate noise that escapes you, hands curling tight around your laptop. “obviously.”

“thought so.” his grin is nothing short of wicked, his hand sliding from your chin to cup your jaw, thumb tracing the line of your cheek. “what are we gonna do about you bein’ so shy, hm?”

he closes your laptop and sets it next to you.

“you’re mean.” you don’t mean it in a he’s actually mean way. he’s just too teasing.

“sorry,” he says, tilting your face up to his again, gaze heavy and burning into yours. “can’t just always give you what you want without you having to ask beforehand.”

you nod slowly.

“i’ll show you right now, darling. i’ll remind you that you’ve got me everytime you want me.”

ross’ gaze stays locked on yours, watching the way your lips twitch with that barely-there smile, the way you shift in your seat, still wound up tight.

he leans in slightly, his voice dropping low and edged with something darker.

"do you want that?”

he watches the way your body reacts to the question, your thighs pressing together just slightly, the way your fingers tens against the bed, like you need something to hold onto.

"yes,” you breathe out.

"there you go," he murmurs, tilting his head, gaze flickering down your body before finding your eyes again. "let me show you then.”

“lay back for me, get yourself comfortable.”

you crawl further back until you’re at the headboard, sinking back against the cushions, legs still bent, thighs pressed tight together.

ross follows in an instant and towers on top of you.

he hums at the sight of you beneath him, at the way you look up at him wanting.

"that’s my girl," he mutters, dragging his palm up the length of your thigh, heat radiating from his touch even through the fabric of your shorts.

his mouth finds your temple first, then the slope of your cheek, slow and unrushed. he kisses along your jaw, trailing lower, his beard scraping lightly against your skin.

“you like this?” he murmurs, lips brushing against your neck.

you exhale shakily. “yeah.”

he hums in approval, dragging his mouth further down.

“you want me here?”

you nod, fingers tightening against his shoulders.

his teeth scrape over your pulse before his tongue soothes over the same spot, and your breath catches.

“yeah, you do,” he mutters, his hands sliding under your shirt, palms warm against your skin.

he lifts it slowly, kissing every new inch of skin as he goes, until he’s tugging it over your head and tossing it aside. then he sits back slightly, gaze dragging over you, taking his time.

“fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says, almost like he can’t help it.

your skin burns under his stare, and you reach for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

he grins, leaning back down, his mouth moving to your collarbone now, pressing open-mouthed kisses, his tongue flicking against sensitive skin.

you whimper, hands holding onto him, and he groans, the sound low and rough.

“love that sound,” he murmurs.

you shudder, back arching slightly.

“gonna be good for me?” he asks, lips ghosting over the curve of your shoulder.

you nod, breathless.

then he kisses you again, and it’s all heat and promise, like he’s determined to give you everything.

your fingers tighten against his skin, nails digging in just slightly.

“ross,” you whisper.

he lifts his head, eyes dark and patient.

you tug at the fabric of his shirt, and his grin is slow, knowing.

“wanna feel me?”

you nod again, and he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.

your hands find him immediately, skimming over warm skin and firm muscle, and he groans at your touch.

“fuckin’ love this,” he mutters, before capturing your lips in another kiss, deep and unhurried, like he’s got all the time in the world.

his hands move again, fingers tracing along the waistband of your shorts.

“gonna take care of you,” he promises, voice rough with want. “just gotta tell me what you need, love.”

your breath hitches, head spinning with how good he feels, how good he sounds.

“go on,” he urges, “tell me.”

you swallow, trying to find your voice.

ross watches you, eyes dark and patient, waiting.

“need you so bad,” you finally whisper, “please just- touch me?”

“course, my lovely girl.”

his fingers flex against your skin before slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down all the way down.

you suck in a breath, hips lifting instinctively, letting him pull them past your thighs, past your knees, tossing them somewhere behind him. his hands settled firm on your legs, his thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles against your inner thighs as he spreads them wider.

and fuck, you are already so wet, your panties clinging to you, a darkened patch right where he wants to put his mouth.

his smirk is slow and satisfied.

"look at this, darling. you’re actually unreal," he purrs, pressing his thumb against the damp fabric, rubbing just enough to make you jolt. “absolutely drenched.”

your breath hitches, a little mewl escaping you as you try pushing your thighs together.

his run up your legs as he moves down the bed a bit, palms settling against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

"is that all for me?“

"mhm" you swallow hard, fingers twisting in the blanket, "so hot.”

ross’ eyes flick to yours, heavy-lidded and dazed, thick with want. "you are.”

"you always feel so good, ross," you murmur.

his fingers curl against your thighs, pressing in just a little harder.

"going to make you feel real good again, love," he mutters, voice rough as his fingers hook into your panties. he pulls them down slow, savoring the sight of them peeling away from your slick folds, strings of arousal clinging to the fabric.

"open these gorgeous legs for me," he murmurs, gripping your thighs, easing them apart as he settles lower, gaze locked on the glistening heat between them.

he slides his palms up your thighs, pressing them wider, his thumbs tracing firm, slow strokes along the sensitive skin. his hands feel big where they grip you, broad and rough, like they can hold you there forever, keep you open for him until he is satisfied.

he exhales sharply through his nose, his cock pulsing behind the tight confines of his jeans.

"christ, love," he whispers, almost to himself, dragging his thumbs over your inner thighs, watching the way your muscles twitched beneath his touch.

"you’re bloody perfect.”

you whimper, a small, needy sound, and ross feels it straight in his gut.

he leans in, inhaling against your core, lips just barely brushing against you-not quite a kiss, not quite a touch, just enough to tease, to let you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds.

“was it here you wanted me?” he asks rhetorically.

you gasp, your hips jerking slightly.

he smirks, the ghost of it pressing against your skin.

"easy, love," he says, smoothing his hands over your thighs, grounding you, keeping you spread open for him. "i’m going to take my time."

and then, finally he lets his tongue drag through your folds, broad and slow, from your dripping entrance up to your swollen clit.

you shudder.

your fingers scramble at the cushion, a broken moan spilling from your lips, thighs trembling beneath his hands.

"that’s it," ross mutters against you, voice thick, satisfied. he drags his tongue over you again, slower this time, savoring the way you taste, the way you react.

he loves this: loves watching you come undone beneath him, loves the way your body melts, how you give in so easily when he actually takes his time with you.

his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking just enough to make your back arch off the bed, another moan breaking free.

"ross, fuck- oh my god.”

"mhm," he hums in response, the vibration sending a sharp jolt through your core. his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you still, keeping you right where he wants you.

You are coating his lips, his chin, his beard and ross loves it. he is groaning against you.

he flicks his tongue, slow and teasing, before dragging it down, prodding your entrance. his hands slide up, fingers pressing against the dips of your hips, holding you steady as his tongue dips inside you.

you choke on a breath, your thighs twitching against his shoulders, and ross grins.

"yeah?" he rasps, pulling back just slightly, his lips slick and shining with you. "does this feel good, darling?”

you barely manage to nod before his mouth is back on you, eating you like a man starved.

your hands fist in his hair, and he groans against you.

"this is where i wanna be, always," he mutters against you, pressing a kiss against your clit before dragging his tongue over it again, slow and deliberate, feeling the way you jerk. "can’t get enough of you.”

a little choked noise escapes you, hands pulling harder in his hair, but you aren’t pushing him away

"can’t believe you always go shy on me," he rasps, letting his tongue dip down, teasing at your entrance before pressing inside, groaning as he feels you pulse around him. "my shy girl.”

you moan out, unsure if it’s a praise or not but you acknowledge the fact that you are his and you love it so much.

“your- yours,” you repeat out of breath.

you whimper, a full-body shudder rolling through you, your hips rolling up, chasing more.

ross grins against you.

"yeah, love. you’re all mine.”

his fingers dig into your thighs as he devours you, tongue working you over, sucking slow, firm pulls on your clit until your whole body seizes beneath him.

"ross-"

your thighs clamp around his head.

ross groans, filthy and deep, gripping your hips tighter, dragging you down against his mouth, forcing you to take it.

"that’s it, darling," he growls against you, tongue curling, licking deep. "call out my name when you come. come on, love, let me have it.”

you shatter, a strangled, broken cry falling from your lips as you gush against his tongue, whole body trembling, thighs shaking around his head.

your breath is still uneven, your body twitching from the aftershocks, when he slows down and kisses you between your legs a few more times.

ross moves slowly, lazily, as he crawls back up over you, warmth radiating off his body, pressing you into the cushions. his breath is still uneven, his lips slick, beard damp, his mouth curved in that familiar, satisfied smile.

your body is still buzzing, thighs trembling slightly where they bracket his hips. you feel ruined, in the best way, skin oversensitive, mind hazy.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just nudges his nose against yours, his weight settling comfortably over you.

“beard stays, don’t worry.”

your stomach flips. before you can say anything, he kisses you.

you gasp softly against his mouth, tasting yourself on his lips, on his tongue. it makes your head spin. your fingers find his beard instinctively, gripping at the damp hair, holding him close.

ross groans, deep and low, like he feels it everywhere.

“fuck, love,” he murmurs, barely pulling back, his lips still brushing against yours.

your breath shudders.

he chuckles, kissing you again, slower this time, sweeter.

“so good for me,” he murmurs against your lips. “so perfect.”

your fingers tighten in his beard, and he exhales sharply through his nose, kissing you deeper.

when he pulls back, it’s just enough to look at you, his thumb stroking along your jaw.

“y’alright?” his voice is softer now, checking in, making sure.

you nod, still breathless.

his smile turns impossibly fond. “yeah?”

you nod again. “yeah.”

he hums, nosing along your cheek. “should hope so.”

you huff a quiet laugh, warmth spreading through your chest.

ross grins, dropping a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“i’m going to take advantage of that though, just so you know,” he teases, nudging his chin against your jaw, his beard scratching lightly at your skin, “can easily drive you mad anywhere now.”

your face burns, but you don’t let go of him.

he grins, pressing a kiss to the edge of your jaw. “i like it too, y’know.”

you swallow. “you do?”

“mm.” his lips trail back down your neck, slower this time, softer. “like when you grab at me like that.”

his hand finds yours, gently untangling your fingers from his beard, lacing them together instead.

“like when you go all quiet and sweet,” he continues, kissing the spot just below your ear. “because you’re turned on but you don’t want to admit.”

your heart trips over itself.

he presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, squeezing your hand.

“s’alright, love,” he murmurs, voice warm, safe. “love that.”

you sigh, tension melting from your body.

ross shifts, settling closer, his nose brushing against your temple.

you breathe him in, safe and warm beneath him, fingers still tangled with his.

“love you, y’know.”

your throat tightens, your chest aching in the best way.

you squeeze his hand. “love you too.”

ross smiles, pressing his lips to your cheek one last time before tucking you against him, his beard soft where it rests against your skin.

#ross macdonald #ross macdonald imagine #ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald x you #ross macdonald blurb #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald one shot #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fluff #the 1975 #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic #matty healy smut

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waldau · 11 months ago

Note

hihi could you write a fic with the prompts

it's very rude to stare + you look better in my clothes than i do with Vernon

hey, good lookin' — chwe hansol | 1,135 words | fluff

feel free to sue me because i couldn't find any other way to write this except for f2l. thank you for requesting!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader has slightly long hair.

“i think he hates me,” you say, leaning down to wash your hair in the sink for the last time. you’d almost forgotten how annoying it was to get sand out of your hair.

“no, he doesn’t,” vernon says, from where he’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat, watching you as you work.

“how do you know that?”

“i know what he’s like when he hates someone, and that’s not what he was like with you. it was just a mistake. you saw how he tripped before he tripped you, right?”

“that’s not good enough,” you grumble, turning off the tap. cold water runs down your neck, adding to the cold you’re already feeling from your wet clothes sticking to your skin. “he could’ve just fallen by himself. he didn’t need to pull me down, too. why did he do that?”

“i don’t know. but he doesn’t hate you, i promise.”

you stand up straight, an idea striking you. “i know why.”

“hmm?”

“he’s just jealous i’m your other best friend.”

vernon lets out an unrestrained snort at that, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “then he’d also be jealous of the fact that i have eleven other best friends, apart from you guys.”

“yeah, but we’re like your…best best friends. right?”

“right,” he says, a smile on his face. “my best best friends who hang out even without me sometimes. seungkwan definitely hates you.”

“ugh.” you hate when vernon makes sense, which is almost always. “then it’s probably because that ice cream in the fridge i ate was his.”

“maybe.”

“how am i supposed to know what belongs to who? don’t you guys label your food when you keep leftovers in the fridge?”

“nah. we’re kinda lazy.”

“i’m never going to understand how you didn’t end up killing each other over the years,” you say shaking your head.

“it's the power of friendship,” vernon says, deadpan.

you focus on not looking at him as you rub your hair with the towel he’s given you. you also try not to focus on the fact that you’re alone in the bathroom with your best friend who also happens to be your crush. even if he’s just watching you towel your hair dry. you probably look like a sad, wet puppy.

how romantic.

“okay, now what?” you ask, gesturing to yourself. your clothes are still as wet as they were twenty minutes ago. “think you can chuck me in the dryer for a while? till i get dry?”

vernon gets to his feet. “don’t worry, i have a spare set of clothes for this exact reason.”

“seungkwan pushing you into the ocean being the reason?”

“accidents,” he calls out. you wait patiently for him as he gets you a shirt and sweats, both of which are perfectly oversized.

it’s not the first time you’ve worn his clothes, thanks to your sleepovers or that one time you turned up to his house drenched in the rain, but it never fails to make you feel the same way — tingly, shy, feeling like someone you’re not.

you step out of the bathroom after giving yourself one last look to find vernon thumbing through his phone. you’re going to have to get ready for dinner now if you want to be on time.

you catch vernon’s gaze in the mirror as you comb your hair, making sure it’s not dripping into his clothes, but he doesn’t stop looking at you even when you move across the room to dry the towel on a chair. it’s only when you throw the towel at his head that he finally blinks out of his daze. it’s weird.

you know he zones out sometimes, thinking about something else while staring at nothing in particular. this is different. he’s focusing. on you. till you got him to stop, at least.

“it’s very rude to stare,” you say, picking up your towel. “don’t you know that?”

“sorry,” vernon says, licking his lips. “i didn’t mean to. you just…”

“what?”

“nothing. sorry,” he says, pocketing his phone. “think we’ll get late if we don’t leave now.”

you feel odd standing in his room, in his clothes. he’s never looked at you like that before. “do i…look weird? is that it?”

vernon turns to look up at you, a frown on his features. “no. of course not. you’ve never looked weird. if anything, you look good.”

oh. he’s never said that before, either.

“…even with my hair all weird?”

“even then. come here?” he asks, and you comply, standing in front of him where he’s sitting. he holds his hoodie up to you. “it’s still cold outside. wear this.”

there’s something…intimate about wearing his hoodie. it’s something he uses every single day, it’s one of his favourite possessions, and he doesn’t part with it so easily. still, you don’t question it as you slip it on, feeling warmer the moment you wear it.

and he’s looking at you again. it ignites a weird feeling in your stomach, like he’s looking at something you’re not aware of.

“vernon, i swear if you don’t tell me what’s up i’ll ask seungkwan to push—”

“you look better in my clothes than i do,” vernon says, not breaking eye contact. “i never realized that before.”

“i…what? don’t stay stuff like that,” you chide him, feeling your skin heat up.

“why not?”

“because it sounds like a...pickup line.”

“it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.” his eyes are fixed on the way you’re playing with the sweater paws, and it makes you want to say something completely outrageous. enough to destroy your friendship.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, instead.

“just that you look good in my clothes. nothing more.”

“that’s not something friends just…say to each other,” you mumble.

“that would be an issue if i wanted us to be just friends, wouldn’t it?”

“you…” you turn to look at him. there’s a neutral expression on his face, but you can tell he’s nervous, the way his brown eyes are looking at you. “want to be…more?”

“if i do?”

how is he so nonchalant about this?

“i won’t say no,” you say, reaching out for his hand. he gives it to you instantly. “but…i don’t want this to be a prank, either.”

“it’s not,” vernon assures you, squeezing your hand. “took me long enough to get here.” he pulls you down onto his lap. “and for the record, seungkwan told me he had a plan to help me confess,” he says, looking up at you apologetically. “i just didn’t expect him to do that.”

your heart’s racing, but you somehow manage to thread a hand through vernon’s hair. “guess we’ll have to get him all that ice cream back, then.”

“see? he doesn’t hate you.”

#seventeen #vernon #fluff #friends to lovers #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes #req

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago

Text

In Every World

Pairing: Terry McGinnis x fem!reader

Summary: Years after losing Terry, fate offers a twisted second chance to tell him how you feel.

Warnings: angst, character death, fluff, comfort, Terry is the ultimate boyfriend, if the names are confusing just pretend they're not

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

A/N: Season 2 Terry McGinnis is my everything.✨ I love him so much but I'm still watching the show for the first time so he's sure to be OOC. Sorry about that! Please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading more for him!!🫶🏼

“Looks normal to me,” Dick says, leaning against the back of Bruce’s chair as you comb through security camera footage.

“Just a couple jokers,” Tim adds.

“Wait, Bruce,” you interrupt. “Go back a few seconds.”

Bruce drags his finger over the batcomputer-version of a trackpad before he pauses the video. You lean closer, narrowing your eyes to find what seems different about the face frozen in time.

“Look at his eyes,” you direct.

“They’re creepy. They’re all creepy,” Dick replies.

“No, she’s right,” Bruce agrees. “They look like-“

“Bat’s eyes,” you finish with him.

Something metallic crashes to the floor before Jason huffs, “That would explain the chick with ram horns I just met in an alley by the Narrows.”

“Who can do this kind of cosmetic work?” Tim asks.

“It’s not cosmetic,” Jason corrects. “It’s like… I think it’s in their DNA.”

“Splicing,” you offer. “It’s a way of altering someone’s DNA with the insertion of animal chromosomes.”

“I take it your experience with it was different?” Bruce inquires.

“Dr. Abel Cuvier marketed the splicers to high school kids. Most adults were against it, the DA, the commissioner. It was on track to be made illegal.”

“And I take it this Cuvier was too young to be here now?” Dick asks. “Which is still confusing.”

“What’s confusing about it, Bluebird?” Jason asks rhetorically. “She’s from the future and from a different timeline so not only is everything she's dealt with more advanced, it’s also completely different.”

“Focus,” Bruce calls, shaking his head. “If these people are being genetically altered, we’ll need an antidote to the foreign deoxyribonucleic acid.”

“Where’s Damian? Sounds like his lab experience could be helpful,” Tim jokes.

Bruce tunes out their brotherly banter, opting to watch your intense gaze on the computer screen. There’s a one-block radius where the spliced individuals seem to migrate. Or come from.

“What’s the address of this building?” you ask, pointing to the map showing the locations of the security cameras.

Bruce tells you the address and then says, “It’s a textile manufacturing facility—or it was before it was condemned.”

“Carmin’s Taxidermy Studio. That’s what it was where I came from. It was condemned then, too, but Cuvier used it as a hideout.”

“So, you think Cuvier is here?”

“That or there’s another timestream break and these people are coming from another dimension, universe, whatever we’re calling it.”

“Then we should get down there,” Jason calls.

“Not if this is anything like my experience with Cuvier. He had vials of splicing material ready to go and didn’t hesitate to turn people without consent. He was one of those guys you wanted to slag but couldn’t.”

“Slag?” Dick repeats, failing to hide his amusement.

“You’re all so annoying,” you groan.

“There will be time for this later,” Bruce interrupts. “We’ve got something.”

Turning your attention back to the monitors, you see an energy signature similar to the one you arrived through. The difference is that your world was ending and the portal collapsed relatively quickly, whereas this pathway is sustained. If people can come and go between the realities as they please, the splicing is the least of your concerns.

“Gear up,” Bruce announces, standing and pulling his cowl over his eyes.

Dick and Jason freeze, their eyes widening as they continue watching the screen. Bruce turns quickly, surprised to see another energy anomaly growing directly above Wayne Manor. Before he can speak, a bright white circle appears in the Batcave. You raise your arm to block out some of the light but try to watch who comes out.

Bruce readies a batarang, Jason racks his Glock, and Dick taps his Escrima sticks together as someone steps out and into the cave. Bruce throws his batarang, and the man exiting the portal catches it.

“No way,” Dick breathes.

You step forward and lower your arm. “Bruce?”

He narrows his eyes at you before complaining, “I’m so sick of time travel.”

“It’s not exactly time travel,” your Bruce – Batman – argues.

“Right,” future Bruce agrees sarcastically. “That’s an important distinction to make right now. Interesting.”

You take another step toward the older, unmasked Bruce and ask, “Are you…”

“I’m not from your world,” he offers, with his hand on your shoulder.

Nodding, you step back, allowing Bruce’s hand to slip from your shoulder.

“Why’d you step through the portal?” Jason asks him. “This Bruce would never.”

“I didn’t. I turned around and I was here.”

“Were you in the cave?” you ask.

He nods, and you pull your lip between your teeth to think.

“Father!” Damian yells.

Everyone in the cave turns. Damian went to bed hours ago, and now he’s descending the stairs dressed in his Robin uniform and extending a katana behind him.

“I found someone who may be of interest to you,” he adds.

Stepping into the light, you see who he’s directing with the point of his sword. Your eyes widen as you see the bright red marking on his chest.

“Terry?” you ask softly.

Batman – the one with the tall ears and the bright red bat insignia, held at knifepoint by his mentor’s lab-grown son – looks up at the sound of your voice. He steps forward, knocks Damian’s katana onto the floor, and says your name in reply.

He walks to you and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you so tightly against his chest that your ribs begin to ache. You don’t care, though, so you hug him like you’ll never see him again. Because you thought you wouldn’t.

Terry’s Bruce lays his hand on Terry’s back and says, “She’s not from our reality, McGinnis. She’s gone.”

“Gone?” you repeat, pulling back slowly.

“I hate to break up the reunion,” Damian calls. “But there’s a goat-faced lady trying to break into GCPD headquarters.”

You turn to Jason and say, “Batman can help.”

“That won’t get confusing,” Jason grumbles. He looks at Terry, his expression hidden by the hood, and says, “You’re with me, then, McGinnis.”

“All due respect,” Terry begins, glancing toward you.

“I’ll be in your ear,” you promise. “Like before.”

Terry smiles beneath the cowl. He nods and drags his hand across your waist before he follows Jason out of the cave.

“I guess it’s just you and me, Wayne,” you say, following future Bruce to the desk.

“Don’t get too attached to this version of Terry,” he warns. “You’ll go back to your time, and he’ll be devastated going back to his.”

“I wish,” you murmur. “I don’t have a time anymore. I lost Terry, Bruce, so if this is a chance to say goodbye, bet every cred you have that I’m going to use it.”

Bruce holds your eyes, then turns to the blinking trackers and the radio feed.

“How do we close this thing?” Dick asks.

“It’s essentially an alternating circuit of time and energy. It’s measured in seconds,” Bruce replies.

“I can measure it,” Terry assures everyone. “Once we know the unit of circulation, we can shut it down.”

“How are you supposed to get home then?” Batman asks.

“I’ll worry about that,” Bruce says. “You get that energy circuit shut down and the spliced kids in cuffs.”

“Bravo-Six, going dark,” Jason quotes.

“What?” Terry and Bruce ask together.

“He’s quoting a video game,” you explain. “Call of Duty, I think.”

“Retro,” Terry muses. “Measuring the stream now.”

“Use the reciprocal,” Bruce reminds him.

“Yeah, I got it, Wayne.”

You smile at their back-and-forth, but tears prick your eyes because Bruce wasn’t wrong. He and Terry will go back to their timeline, and you’ll be left behind. Again.

While Bruce and Batman work on creating a one-way time jump to get Bruce and Terry home, you take Terry’s hand and lead him into a secluded corner of the cave. Your hands rest on his shoulders, and he nods when you brush your fingers against the bottom of his cowl. Pulling it over his head, you look at Terry McGinnis for the first time in too long.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

“Everything’s schway,” he replies, smiling. “You?”

You nod. It’s a lie, and Terry knows it. Brushing your fingers over his jaw, you wonder what took you so long. You waited too long to tell Terry how you felt in high school. And when you were finally willing to risk everything by telling him, he pushed you to safety and told you not to look back. Like that, he was gone forever. Everything was gone when you looked back. Yet, another Bruce Wayne took you in and gave you a home when you didn’t have one.

Your hand drops as you say, “Be careful when you get home, okay?”

“What happened? On your world, I mean,” he inquires.

“It’s a long story, but it involves a bad guy trying to turn the whole world bad. As far as I can tell, it’s a bad guy you’ve already dealt with.”

“So, your version of me...”

“I don’t think Terry McGinnis was ever mine, but, yeah, he’s gone. Everybody is, and trust me, I’ve checked.”

“Well, my version of you – who wasn’t really mine either – saved my life,” Terry whispers. “She saved me after my father was killed, and she saved me again when Batman couldn’t.”

You wipe your cheeks and smile at Terry. “She was yours. She was always yours.”

Terry catches one of your tears on his thumb before he rests his palm on your cheek and promises, “He was yours, too.”

“Hey, punch some jokerz for me when you get back?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Terry smiles and says, “Yeah, anything.”

On the other side of the cave, Dick and Jason watch you and Terry. Since you arrived, they’ve accepted you as part of their family.

“Why doesn’t she just go with him?” Jason asks.

“Because realities have to stay separate,” Dick replies, imitating Bruce. He sighs and adds, “No one knows.”

Jason looks away from you to watch the two different versions of Bruce work together and shakes his head. They want to see you happy but understand that things aren’t as simple as they seem.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce announces. He turns and asks, “Where’d they go?”

“You’re going to give Bruce an ulcer,” you chide, jogging to keep up with Terry’s long strides.

“It’s around here somewhere,” Terry mumbles, unconsciously brushing his thumb across your knuckles.

“Maybe in your Wayne Manor. This one still has Alfred cleaning up after their messes.”

Terry stops and presses the side of a grandfather clock. It opens a dimly lit passage to an oversized balcony that looks like a simple roofline from the ground.

“How’d you find this place?” you ask, leaning against the rail to enjoy the view of Alfred’s garden.

“I broke in, remember?”

You turn toward Terry, and your breath catches when you realize how close he is. Years after losing him, you’ve been given another opportunity. Fate took Terry from you, but, for some twisted reason, you’re standing face-to-face yet again. It is the last time, though you suppose there should be comfort in knowing.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

Terry sighs and leans closer, gripping the railing as he cages you in. “Bruce would say that it wasn’t really me.”

“What do you think?”

“That we’re the same across all the realities. We may be older, younger, more jaded, but deep down, we’re still the same.”

“If anything, you’re less jaded than the Terry I knew.”

He smiles and brushes his arm against yours. “It isn’t fair.”

“No,” you agree softly. “But it’s the way it is.”

“What if it doesn’t have to be?”

“We don’t get to decide, Terry.”

Terry pushes off the railing, running his hands through his hair as he turns away from you. “Then who does?!” he exclaims. “You stayed here, moved away from your time, so why is everyone here so sure that we can’t do it again?”

“Because your version of me could come back,” you try to explain.

“She won’t.”

“I escaped my reality, Terry, you never know if-“

“We buried you!” he interrupts, his chest heaving. “This is my only chance to get you back, and you’re telling me that I can’t have it.”

“Terry,” you call.

He shakes his head and continues pacing. Finally, you step in front of him and press your hands against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you begin. “I didn’t know. But we both know we can’t fight Bruce about this.”

Terry doesn’t reply. He watches you and continues breathing against your touch.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you before…”

Terry’s brows lift nearly imperceptibly. He notices your use of you. It sounds like you’ve stopped seeing him as a different Terry. The moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you were his. Maybe not the exact girl he loved and never told, but still the same. You’re his and always will be, even if he has to leave you behind.

“I love you, Terry McGinnis,” you confess. “And I always will.”

Terry smiles, and his hands move to your waist. “We can’t fight Bruce about this,” he repeats.

“Good,” Bruce interrupts before you’re separated and blinded by a bright, white light.

A calloused palm brushes up and down your arm. Squeezing your eyes closed, you try to remember what it was like to stand with Terry, to tell him you loved him. There should be closure, but you only feel a growing pit of emptiness. Yet, the touch against your skin makes the heartbreak seem mendable.

“No, Ace, don’t lick her,” someone chides gently.

You open your eyes immediately, sitting up to find him. Terry’s hand moves from your arm to your shoulder, and he chuckles at your sudden movement.

“How’s your head?” he inquires. “Wayne didn’t think it through when he pushed us through a portal without knowing where it opened.”

“My head’s fine,” you assure him. “Why’d he do it?”

“Something about knowing that heartbreak makes it hard to be a good Batman.”

“Hi, Ace,” you greet as he presses his snout against your hip. “I missed you, buddy.”

“Good, you’re awake,” Bruce says as he enters the room. He tosses a bag onto the bed and says, “Your alternate-reality brothers sent that.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“I just carried the bag.”

Smiling, you say, “You know what I mean.”

Bruce nods once, then leaves you alone with Terry.

“You loved me in the other world,” Terry says. “I’ve lost two chances to say it.”

“You’re just mad I said it first.”

“That is so not kicks.”

You laugh because you're glad to be back with Terry and excited to be around people who understand your slang again.

“Well?” you ask, leaning closer to Terry. “Are you going to say it now?”

“McGinnis,” Bruce calls. “There’s a crew of Jokerz outside City Hall.”

Terry sighs and asks, “Do you think we’ll ever have another moment to ourselves?”

“Keep looking for hidden balconies,” you encourage. “And stay safe.”

“I’ll be back,” he promises.

You pet Ace as Terry leaves, but he rushes back into the room a moment later.

“Forgot something,” he says, leaning against the mattress to be closer to you. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you reply, smiling as you lay your hand over his.

Terry kisses your forehead and promises to return to you.

“You better,” you call after him.

“Hey, I’ve got a kiss to deliver,” he says from the doorway. “I’ll be here.”

You stand nearly an hour later, eager to get to the Batcave and help him as best as possible.

“I think you’re supposed to be in bed,” Batman chides, leaning against the Batcave entrance with his arms crossed.

“And you’re supposed to be back to give me something, I think,” you reply.

Ace barks at your side, and Terry pulls the cowl off his head. He drops it to the floor and takes two long steps to reach you. His gloved hands rise to your neck, and you hold his waist as you kiss Terry.

You both missed your first chance, but your worlds collided, and now you have Terry back. As you move with him, you know this is where you’re meant to be. You love Terry McGinnis in every world, but you belong beside him.

#terry mcginnis x reader #terry mcginnis imagine #terry mcginnis fluff #terry mcginnis #batman beyond #batman beyond x reader #fem!reader #hanna writes✯#dc comics x reader #dc comics fic

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gatitties · 4 months ago

Text

Warm

─La squadra di esecuzioni x teen!fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You have a big mouth and your stand is not your best ally to hide your emotions, at least you know how to handle it

─Warnings: blood

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Five

Mornings used to be quiet in the assassins' house, with only four people awake at the beginning of the day, Risotto didn't make a single sound, Illuso and Ghiaccio didn't come out of their room until mid-morning and Prosciutto wasn't a loudmouth, it was a little bit of quiet until the loudmouths got up, but today, that quiet was being annoying, without knowing it, they were being irritated by any little thing, with a permanent frown on their faces ─if it's not there normally─, the only reason for this, you, your annoyance was affecting everyone without you knowing it, but you were really in a bad mood.

"Ugh, why the hell won't it get better? Did someone curse me? Fuck, fuck, fuck, this only means that the day is going to get worse."

You wandered off looking at yourself in the small mirror, you had strangely woken up early, unable to fall asleep again, you forced yourself to do some morning exercise to keep in shape, a light shower, some training with your rat… but now that your hair was dry ─much shinier and silkier since you followed Prosciutto’s advice─, you were trying to comb it, however one damn hair was still unruly and restless, you had tried using Pros’s setting gel, but it didn’t work, not even Ghiaccio’s hairspray to keep the curls intact seemed to do anything against the unruly hair, and you were getting so desperate that you almost hit your head with the comb, if it weren’t for Illuso appearing in the mirror stopping you.

"Okay, that’s it, you’re getting on my nerves because of your stand, you should learn to control it better."

"I'm sorry, but please help me or I'll go crazy and drag you all into madness."

You let yourself be dragged into his room, he was trying to comb his pigtails himself, strangely he was unable to comb your hair as you normally did, causing the desperation to increase in the house, a not very happy Ghiaccio interrupted the dark-haired boy's room to try to do something himself or he was going to start biting the furniture out of the accumulated rage, he couldn't, he couldn't against your hair, everyone went to Prosciutto, who was trying to get rid of the bad feeling by smoking like a locomotive in the kitchen window, he couldn't solve your problem either.

"How is it possible that you don't know how to comb unruly hair!? You two are always so well combed like prissy whores, it's ridiculous!"

"God, shut up," the blond let go of your hair, completely tangled now, rubbing his temples, feeling the headache starting to form in the front "it's not the same to comb your own hair than to comb someone else's."

Risotto, Pesci and Melone were ruled out, probably they didn't even comb their hair that much, leaving only Formaggio… Prosciutto recommended you to wash your hair again while Ghiaccio was prepared to cut your stupid hair with the kitchen scissors right there.

"You're all such idiots, leave this to me!"

To everyone's surprise Formaggio had woken up from all the noise, no one believed he could actually fix the problem when he didn't even need to comb his hair, but no one objected anything, whatever it took to let that feeling leave their minds. You took him to your room, giving him your things so he could comb your hair, he gave a few rough tugs to your locks, but he was quite effective at doing his job, simple, neat and pretty, your usual hairstyle was back to normal, without that stupid hair bothering you, your mood lightened, all irritation and desperation vanished from the house.

"Wow, I would never think a bald guy would be the best at combing unruly hair."

"I'm not bald, it's shaved" he finished giving you one last look to make sure everything was okay, nodding to himself at seeing his good work "and I'm good from experience."

"Did you have long hair before? Like longer than Melone? Let me guess! Before you were assassin you were a hairdresser, you had an accident with someone from Passione, you accidentally cut off their ear and boom! They made you do their dirty work for them because of the lack of respect."

"You are horrible at guessing things," his laughter filled your room, sitting on your bed, he looked out the window longingly, "I come from a big family, with lots of sisters, I had to take care of them many times."

"Ah… You haven’t cut off anyone’s ear then?"

"Yes, a couple of times, but that’s not why I ended up here," his expression soured at thoughts of the past, you quickly noticed how his emotions changed abruptly, you had already caused a lot of trouble this morning, you didn’t want Formaggio to feel bad remembering something "I-"

"It’s okay! We don’t need to remember things that make us feel bad, think of something nice, warm, comforting! Like for example… Ummh… Your cat! How long has she been with you?"

"It was actually a gift from one of my older sisters-"

"I'm sorry, I should tape my mouth shut or never speak for the rest of my life or sew it up, industrial glue? Doesn't sound bad."

Formaggio rolled his eyes as he heard you mutter stupid things, followed by the occasional apology for touching on a subject that might be sensitive for him, although it wasn't something he liked to remember, it was his story and he couldn't erase it or redo it, it wasn't your fault for not knowing, you even tried to make him feel better about something that can't be controlled, fate is very capricious.

"Shut up already, you don't need to apologize, just go out there and show that I'm the best of all, since no one has been able to comb your hair."

"Yeah, of course, you're the best Maggio!"

You both left your room, with long strides you reached the living room where everyone was sitting, each one doing their things, you announced yourself strutting in front of everyone, being ignored by most, but proud to be back to your normal state, tranquility reigned again in the morning after the little chaos. Nothing really interesting happened during the day, nothing besides Risotto sending you a mission in a couple of days, it didn't cause too much nervousness in you for your stand to affect as much as this morning, but although you had already done several missions before, you always had that slight uncertainty of whether you could successfully complete the objective.

You used the old procrastination trick so you wouldn't feel that pressure, you cleaned a few more parts of the house that were screaming for a much deeper cleaning and did a few more chores, keeping your mind busy with other things always lightened your mood, if you could you would like to be able to go blank, but your mind was a train running twenty-four hours a day, the word overthink and you go hand in hand like best friends.

"Hey, come on, I don't have all day."

Formaggio tapped your shoulder, pulling you out of your daydream, you nodded, asking for a minute to go to the bathroom before leaving, you said goodbye to everyone in the living room, following the man who was already waiting in his rickety van, the car had seen better days, but that, and Ghiaccio's car were the only available means of transportation the group had, that, or public transport.

"I didn't know you were coming on the mission with me, Risotto didn't tell me anything."

"I'm not going, I have another mission, but both places are close, so I'm doing you the favor of bringing you over."

"Well, aren't you great? Thanks Maggio!"

"Tch, tch, you don't have to tell me, I know" his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, making a small turn more abrupt than necessary, he frowned when he saw how a car without priority was making his way difficult "Move asshole!"

The horn sounded like a turtle making love with a hoarse voice, your face got dangerously close to the dashboard due to the sudden braking, if it weren't for the seat belt you would have had a sore nose all day, god bless cars safety, Formaggio accelerated making the engine roar while showing the middle finger to the driver who had made him stop, the lady who was driving made angry gestures in turn, shouting things that you didn't hear.

"People drive terribly, do they think the street is only for them?"

His words left you thinking for a moment, everyone in the group was of legal age, you didn't know exactly if they all had a legal driving license, but you did know that they all knew how to drive, which led you to think that maybe, although not legally, you should learn basic notions about automobiles, you could get into trouble and need to drive.

"Maggio, do you think you could teach me how to drive?" He glanced at you, focusing on the road to make a lane change "You know, what happens if something happens and neither of you can use a car? I don't know anything about driving, I'd like to know the basics to get out of a tight spot."

The speed of the van was slowly decreasing, he made a small turn to a dead end, he put on the handbrake, looking through the rearview mirror to check that no one was passing by, he turned to face you with a crooked smile.

"I'll think about it, now get to work, when you finish come back to this alley, I'll pick you up, don't take too long, if I finish quickly I won't wait for you, understood?"

"Aye, aye, my captain, everything clear as crystal!"

You made a stupid pirate salute without any context, jumping out of the vehicle quickly, you waved effusively once he reversed, leaving for his own destination, taking a more focused attitude, you looked at the street name plate, looking for the exact address you had been sent to. You were in a bad neighborhood, similar to the neighborhood you live in now, there wasn't a single soul walking down the street, besides a few children who hid when they saw you, you didn't pay attention to them once you reached the door of your destination, the white wood was worn, one of the windows was broken and there was grass growing up the wall a few inches, whoever it was, they had neglected their home a lot, so much so that you doubted the veracity of the information they had given you. A woman had betrayed Polpo's trust, and according to what it says in the document, she doesn't leave the house unless it's really important.

You felt your waist, feeling that the gun was still there and hadn't escaped, with a shaky sigh, you knocked on the door, you waited, you waited... impatience hit you too quickly, you didn't know if she had received threats that she was already being hunted, so you decided to just open it yourself, the broken window was perfect to put your arm through and open the door on your own, with a soft creak, you entered taking careful steps.

The house was gloomy, messy, as if a storm had destroyed everything, the furniture was broken or scattered on the floor, plates, glasses, pictures… everything completely shattered against the wooden floor, a hysterical voice pulled you out of your thoughts, the shrill screams came from the living room to the right, it seemed like the woman was losing her temper having a hysterical attack, you almost felt bad seeing how her face was stained with tears, she had clumps of hair torn out and she was hitting her head, she was the one who caused all this mess in her own house. You almost didn't manage to dodge the flowerpot she threw at you, too focused on her disastrous appearance.

"Are you a murderer? Aren't you? They're coming for me! I'm going to die! That's it… my life thrown down the drain for… for… AGH, I HATE YOU, YOU AND THAT CRAPPY ORGANIZATION! DIE! DIE!"

She pointed at you as if you were the cause of all her problems, feeling a little offended by her accusation, she lunged at you determinedly, you staggered to the side making her trip over her own feet, falling face first onto the ground, though she grabbed your leg pushing you to the ground, she quickly climbed on top of you, placing her hands on your neck squeezing, you hit her chest hard making her step back with a grunt, you rolled on the ground dodging her second attack, sticking some broken porcelain pieces that were scattered around in your arms and legs, you didn't let the pain register on you and continued with the little fight.

Blows went back and forth between the two of you, neither of you being too experienced in physical fights, somehow the woman was good enough to stop you from bringing out your gun, but you decided it was time to stop playing when her stand showed itself.

"What…?" you were amazed to see how a bubble formed inside your skin, it burst with a small sound making you moan in pain, blood splashed on the place and your face "Ouch!"

"I got you!" although the attack was planned to repeat itself, it was not directed at you but at the wall that was next to you, some splinters flew out from the bursting of the bubble "shit, I still can't control this fucking power well, just wait! I'll make you explode and suffer like they did to me!"

"Don't make me responsible for your bad decisions!"

You gritted your teeth as you felt another bubble against your skin burst, it stung a lot, it cost you a few more wounds but you ended up hitting the back of her neck, making her dizzy enough for her to stay still, you took out the gun, taking off the safety, still half unconscious, the woman managed to speak between murmurs, which distracted you enough.

"I'm not going to let... a rat like you kill me... I prefer... I prefer this."

A shiver ran through your body, blood splattered everywhere, staining the walls, ceiling and floor, of course, you too, completely covered in blood you almost vomited, but you held it back, silently looking at the gun you held in your hand.

"I could have made it less painful" you tried to wipe your face with your hands, but you only spread more of the red liquid that began to oxidize and turn darker, ruining your outfit completely, you would have to go around the store again to buy that stain remover "Well, whatever, I'm done."

You grimaced as you walked, you felt sticky, dirty, would Formaggio even let you get into his car covered in blood? You were going to find out soon because you saw his van parked in the same place as before, he was probably waiting to see you and make a joke about how he had been waiting for hours ─when he had just arrived ten minutes ago─ but that since he is such a good person he had waited for you, but his jokes died on the tip of his tongue when he saw you covered in blood, with a blank look.

"Are you okay? Where is all that blood coming from? You're not hurt, right?" like a worried mother he greeted you with an avalanche of questions "Wait before you get in the car, I'll put a cardboard or a bag, damn it, don't lean your back on the seat, better not touch anything."

"Yes, yes, and don't worry, the blood is not mine."

He looked at you for a second as he rummaged through the trunk, he put some plastic bags over the passenger seat and let you in, the ride back was a little quieter because you were a little upset. You didn’t like the job, you didn’t think you of all people got to choose a person’s life or death, surely they had a story behind them, friends or family who cared about those people even if they were the lowest scum in the world. You had witnessed enough deaths to desensitize yourself to the job, but you vowed to make quick and painless work for people, not wanting to know their background because you’d be too weak to pull the trigger if you knew the person. You were a little upset that the woman killed herself with her stand, you experienced it briefly luckily and it was very painful.

"Whatever you're thinking, let it go" Formaggio was going to put his hand on your shoulder to reassure you, but stopped halfway remembering that you were covered in blood "It's not worth thinking too much about it."

"Maggio, uff- can you read minds or something? In fact, you all seem to notice when I'm in a bad mood or thinking too much…"

"You're pretty simple to read, plus your stand doesn't help you. Do I remind you what happened two days ago with your hair?"

You gasped in surprise as you saw your personal action figure giggle, sitting on the man's shoulder as if they had snitch on your train of thought.

"That's treason!"

You pointed accusingly causing the man to let out a chuckle, which was quickly replaced by a frown and a small cry, your face crashed into the dashboard from the sudden braking because he almost ran a stop sign and crashed into another car, as you didn't want to get anything dirty, you didn't use your seatbelt, this time nothing saved you from the impact.

"Maybe I can ask Ghiaccio about driving lessons…" you looked with disgust at how a dry blood mark was left right where your face had hit "ow, that hurt."

You pressed your nose, noticing the itch, the crimson liquid soon ran down your lip and chin, you made a face of disgust, not even on your worst period days was this bloody.

"Shit, I'm sorry, there's paper in there."

You opened the glove compartment, taking out a crushed roll of paper, you grabbed some to press it against your nose and stop the bleeding, hopefully, the rest of the trip passed without further incident. Pesci almost fainted at the sight of you covered in blood from head to toe, quickly looking for Melone to check that you weren't really seriously injured, Prosciutto forbade you to set foot in the house when you were so dirty, made you put on gloves and bags in your shoes, sending you straight to the shower. The tension you didn't know you had been accumulating in your shoulders vanished with the water dyed by the shower siphon, feeling much better, hunger hit you, deciding to bother the idiot on duty who had to make dinner, but since it was Pesci, you simply helped him finish whatever he had in hand.

"I would like to be as confident as you on missions, I always have to go out with Prosciutto."

You tilted your head in confusion at the fisherman's words, squinting your eyes, Pesci had always underestimated himself, of course, he was one of the most insecure, and his brother was sometimes too harsh with his words, despite not doing it in bad faith, you felt everything that made poor Pesci feel bad, that's why you made sure to give him an extra dose of kindness, he was, without a doubt, the easiest to hurt emotionally. You weren't very different from him, your own stand was related to people's feelings and sensations, it wasn't your determination, but the ability to not let yourself think about what you were really doing.

"Pfft- I'm not confident, I just don't think about what I do and let things happen, like stimuli? If they don't hit me I pull the trigger, if they hit me, I hit and pull the trigger, you know? It's simple"

"I still can't find that much determination… I think Prosciutto will never be proud of me."

You hit his shoulder, almost making the pan he was holding fall to the floor due to your unexpected action, glancing at him for a moment, returning to cut the vegetable again or you would cut a finger.

"You don't need anyone's approval, but I'm sure he's already proud of you, not everyone can say they're a murderer!" you mentally hit yourself, maybe they weren't here by choice, like almost everyone in the group, your big mouth again, before he could answer you changed the subject "but, yeah... aaaaanyway why don't you talk to me about fishing? You seem to like it a lot."

"Oh yes, I lived near the coast…"

You sighed in relief as his nervousness subsided to a slight satisfaction about the direction of the conversation, saving the day once again, you found yourself enjoying a chat about the different marine species off the coast of Naples.

BONUS!

"This is simple, three pedals, five gears not counting the reverse gear" Formaggio told you, sitting in the passenger seat "just use your left foot for the clutch, it's the pedal on the left, the middle one is the brake and the right one is the accelerator, for these two you use your right leg, avoid stepping on both pedals at the same time."

You nodded, testing the pedals under your feet, then the man briefly explained how to use the gears, first left up, second down from first, third from the center to the top, fourth the opposite, fifth right up and reverse down, good, you got it

"Now press the brake and the clutch at the same time, I'm going to release the handbrake, you have to release the clutch little by- you didn't finish listening, your foot lifted too quickly causing the car to hum until it stopped instantly "little… turn the key again to start it and finish listening before doing anything."

"Oh, it's moving, I'm doing it!" the second time, with some bounces, you managed to get it to move forward slowly, Formaggio asked you to brake, but you hit the wrong pedal and accelerated, he pulled the handbrake before you crashed into Ghiaccio's convertible "Mmh, I don't think I've got the pedals under control yet."

"You think so? You almost signed our death sentence if that fucking miata had any scratches."

#la squadra x reader #jjba x reader #jjba part 5 #vento aureo #platonic reader #teen reader #fem reader #x reader #sfw #platonic jjba #golden wind #la squadra x platonic reader #la squadra x teen reader

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salmonro3 · 5 months ago

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★彡[ᴘᴜɴᴄᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]彡★ - ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

★彡[ᴘᴜɴᴄᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]彡★

I hummed to myself at the desk. My pen lightly tapped against the desk as my eyes carefully scanned over the papers. This grading feels like it'll never end. And what's worse is that this kid doesn't know how to write proper punctuation. I thought to myself, rolling my eyes slightly. A red mark here, a red mark there. I watched the bright red ink drip slowly onto the beige paper as I lazily marked in corrections.

Crrraaak. The door to my classroom creaked open slowly. My head didn't perk up, and I thought it was just the wind blowing in from the window pushing the door slightly. Or it could've just been Gojo annoying me after teaching our students. Footsteps followed the sound of the door and then got somewhat louder each time their shoes met the room's wooden floors.

"Toru, I'm grading papers now," I mumbled, sighing as my eyes never left the sentence I was reading. Period. How could this kid have missed a period at the end of the sentence? Period. I placed a little red dot at the last letter of that word.

"Y/N," a man's voice whispered, much more profound than Gojo's.

My eyes shot up from the page; my head tilted slowly to see who it was.

Short blonde hair was neatly combed, pale skin all around and defined facial features, tight navy blue shirt that was wrinkled, and long grey dress pants.

"Y/N, it's me. Ken," the man continued, slinging his light grey blazer that matched his dress pants over his shoulder.

"Nanami," I gasped, my eyes widening, and a large grin appeared.

I abruptly stood up from my chair, hearing it graining against the hardwood floor as I pushed it back to make room for me to go around the desk. My arms raised for him, and my legs went right in front of him, just stopping a couple of steps before him. My legs wouldn't move; they wouldn't continue walking up to him. My arms didn't want to wrap around him even though they were already extended for Nanami.

Nanami looked down at me and observed my body. Then, he slowly stepped up to me. I felt his chest press to mine as his arms went under mine, wrapping around my torso tightly. One of his hands went in my hair, grasping my soft strands. My mind started working again as my arms surrounded his body, trying to hold onto him as tightly as my strength could.

"Nanami, you left me," I softly mumbled into his chest, my face buried in his shirt.

"I know, and I'm so, so, so sorry," Nanami began, his chin resting on my head. "When I left, all I thought about at work was returning to you. After the days became months, they turned into years. I thought it'd be too late to see your face again. I thought it would be too late and you wouldn't remember me if I had returned to you. It was horrible, Y/N, without you. I fucked up. Period."

I tightly gripped his shirt at his back, my teeth clenching slightly.

A period meant a complete stop at the end of a sentence.

Nanami and I were in the same year while we studied at Jujutsu Tech, and Gojo and his friends were in the year above us. When we finally graduated, Kento said he wanted nothing to do with Jujutsu Sorcery and wanted to leave immediately. He didn't want to live in a world with sorcerers and cursed magic. He was done and tired.

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

"Period," Nanami muttered. "This is all a bunch of shit, Y/N. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and I have already signed up for training to assist people with their finances at a company."

"You can't just fucking leave after finishing school here," I exclaimed, my hand clenching into a fist. "You're just going to forget you ever learned any of this? You don't want to save people and fight curses? You're just going to leave me here and let me rot all alone?"

"Well, you said you were going to teach sorcery to teenagers. So, you'll be with Gojo and Shoko. You won't be alone," Nanami continued, carefully pushing his hair out of his face.

"But I thought you would want to stay with us," I mumbled, looking at him with glossed eyes.

"Period means the end of the sentence. This is the end of this discussion. This is the end of my time with Jujutsu sorcery. Goodbye, Y/N," Nanami replied, looking at me, his eyes squinting slightly.

"Fuck you," I muttered. I instantly turned my back toward him and disappeared from that corner.

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After the day before Nanami left in the morning, Y/N never saw him again. And the last sentence she got to say to him was to tell him to go fuck himself. For months, Y/N thought of Kento. She was angry at him for walking out. After all the years of working and studying with him, she was furious that he would just leave. Period. And when the months turned into years, it wasn't anger anymore. It was loneliness. She missed everything about him. She missed how his hair was combed to one side of his head, and he'd constantly fiddled with it. Now, it was neatly kept. She forgot how aligned the buttons were to his uniform. Now, his button-up shirt was wrinkled. She missed how he'd show up to her dorm late at night to study with her and Haibara. This was the first time she had seen him in four years.

Although a period meant the end of a sentence, a comma meant otherwise. A comma meant that there was a pause inside of a sentence before it continued. There was a pause in her life without Nanami Kento. Everything already felt like Hell from the start after the death of their beloved friend, Haibara. Nanami leaving wasn't any better for her. Y/N lost two of the most important people during Y/N's teenage years when she had nobody.

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

Now, since a comma meant the sentence was to be continued, it felt like it had been written into my life all these years, and the sentence finally started up again today. The day Nanami came back to see me.

It wasn't a period. It was a comma.

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

"Hello, it’s Nanami. I need to talk to you," Nanami began over the phone quietly. "Yes, I’ll be stopping by Jujutsu Tech tomorrow… Why are you laughing?"

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

"Didn't you used to like Y/N back in high school?" Gojo asked as he walked with Nanami through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech.

"What kind of question is that, Gojo?" Nanami snapped, rolling his eyes. He looked down at the ground as he kept walking. His eyes noticed the bright polish on his shoes had faded.

Yesterday, he helped out the cashier-girl at the bakery he usually visited. After that moment, he pulled out his phone and called Gojo. Nanami wanted to go back to high school. Nanami wished he would be able to get another glimpse of Y/N.

Recently, he had been thinking of her more. Every time he pulled out his shirt to put on for work if there were any wrinkles in it, he would remember Y/N always ironing them out for him in his uniform before school. The scuffs on his leather shoes would make Nanami think of the shoe polish Y/N would keep in her dorm room for him to use. And his hair. Oh, he remembered the times that Y/N would brush it out of his face sometimes and how these past years he's had to comb it in a part that wouldn't get in his face.

He was older now, and so was Y/N. Gojo kept saying that Nanami would be able to see Y/N today. The thought of seeing her suddenly like this scared him. Would she even be able to recognize him? Would Nanami even realize that Y/N sat at the desk through the window in the classroom, reading over papers?

Of course, he did. He knew that beautiful face from anywhere.

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

My hands released his shirt, my fingertips letting the fabric of his navy blue button-up breathe. Nanami wouldn't let go of me. It almost felt as if she was getting closer and closer to him, almost melding into his body slowly. Just like the way the ink chamber in a pen would slowly fall into the nib of the utensil and drip onto the paper with a smooth gel as it glided across the creamy surface. The ink would mesh with the fabric of the paper, just like Nanami held me tightly while his fingers were tangled in my hair.

"I understand if you don't wish to speak with me after everything," Nanami began; he pressed my head slightly into his chest. "Y-You can forget we've ever talked in the first place, but I honestly can't stop thinking of how much of an asshole I was the day I was leaving. I shouldn't have left you in the first place."

I sighed into his chest, patting his back slightly.

"Ken, I don't think you understand how upset I've been since our fight and after you left. I was so fucking pissed at you for walking out. All I wanted in my life was for you, Haibara, and me to be happy," I softly began, my eyes glossing over my words. "Were you happy? When did you become a salaryman?"

Nanami shook his head, looking up at the ceiling.

"I did that job, so I would have enough money to retire at a younger age and move to a country with low living costs," Nanami explained. "But after yesterday, when I was at the bakery... I wanted there to be a reason to live. So, yesterday afternoon, I decided to come back here in hopes of making a difference and being able to see you again."

And that was all I needed to hear from Nanami Kento. Period.

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him with watered eyes. My hands slowly snaked up his firm torso and eventually reached his neck. My fingertips brushed along the skin of his neck before my hands got to his face, cupping it gently.

"I'm sorry," Nanami whispered, looking down at me with sorrowful eyes as his hands rested on my hips.

I leaned in carefully, my heels removing themselves from the floor as I got on my tiptoes. Nanami brought his face close to mine as my hands pulled him in. His soft lips brushed against mine, and I could feel my heart racing. I never wanted to let him go again. I would never allow him to leave my side. I don't want him to not be a part of my life.

End of discussion.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk au #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #fanfic #jjk fluff #romantic #kento x reader #jjk kento #kento x y/n #nanamin #jujutsu kaisen nanami

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atxxzist · 9 months ago

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spring in our hearts | c.s (preview)

summary: the spring where you finally fall in love and experience everything that comes with it; the good and the bad

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: angst, slice of life, suggestive, romance, fluff?

release date: sometime around next week, idk

and he probably didn’t push too hard because it’s almost like he knew you’re gonna be there; waking up before it’s even 7 and sitting at the same table from before, watching guests go in and out of the room hoping to catch the boy that sent you the text last night.

his face lights up the same as you when he enters, waving in the air and heading your direction, you really shouldn’t feel so nervous but excited at the sight of him walking.

“hey!” he greets cheerfully, sliding into the seat across with a smile.

“good morning,” you return, hands curled in your lap and happy he can’t see them because you wonder what he’d think.

“how you’d sleep?” he ask the same time he combs over his morning hair, never in your life has someone looked so good doing so, you didn’t even think it was possible.

“good,” you manage to answer with composure. “and you?”

“alright.” he shrugs. “wooyoung was just mostly drunk and annoying from last night’s dinner.”

a small giggle also laced with empathy escapes from you. “well i’m sorry to hear. i hope today will be better.”

he nods. “hopefully.” then realizing you haven’t even gotten your food, talking in a concerned tone, “don’t tell me you were waiting for me.”

“i was,” you say. “don’t worry about it. i’m not that hungry. the dinner last night kept me filled plenty.”

“if you say so…” he lingers a bit before continuing, “should we go now?”

“sure.”

you also get close to the same thing you got last time, with the exception that they’ve switched out pancakes for waffles, getting a question from san after sitting down about your food choices.

“well, i really only eat korean foods,” you tell him. “i’m not too fond of anything else besides what’s on my plate right now.”

“ahh. so you’re a picky eater?”

“somewhat. that’s why yeosang hates going out to eat with me.”

san lets out a quiet snicker, something more mischievous bubbling in his eyes that you don’t read into.

“you talk about yeosang a lot… does yours and his relationship ever bothers your other friend?” he asks, the question stopping you from sipping your coffee.

the friendly and harmless tone still in the air but you can’t hide the fact the question flusters you a little.

“well, me and yeosang have known each other for a while… even before grace, so she understands that we don’t see each other like that at all.”

san quirks his lips and nods, taking your words for it.

“why?” you speak again. “do we give out that kind of vibe?” you ask worriedly, because you would never want to unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt grace in any ways. on your life you have never seen yeosang for more than the annoying middle schooler you couldn’t get rid of.

but as san shakes his head, you feel a sense of relief, watching as a light smirk creep up on his face.

“just wondering,” he says, so calmly but eerie at the same time, you can’t quite grasp the intention. but then something else comes over, and you forget all about deciphering san’s answer; not really wanting to but letting the intrusive thoughts win.

“and that girl you were with yesterday? you guys together?” you ask, no menance in your voice; just a natural curioisity because you wanna know… not for any reasons deeper.

“she’s a friend,” he answers fast and casual. “i know her from my previous school because we were under the same program and have similar interests and whatnot.”

“i see,” you mumble, a light smile anyone would’ve missed because you don’t wanna admit to anyone why the fact brings you a sense of comfort.

but it doesn’t cut it with grace.

“that’s what they always say!” she cries dramatically, after storming into your room when she was finally done sleeping past noon and the events of yesterday hit her.

but you don’t have any reasons to doubt san, even if you love your best friend and wanna take her words for it, you don’t think it’s fair to assume someone you barely know is trying to take your man that isn’t really your man.

“for all you know, they could be fucking behind doors.”

“grace!” you yell your friend’s name at such accusation, your ears turning red at even the thought of it.

“sorry,” she mutters, but barely meaning it, only shrugging off what needed to be said.

“i just don’t want you to be hurt in the end,” she says, voice a kind of sympathy you didn’t even know you need.

because yes, you think san is handsome. he is kind and unusually attentive to you for whatever reasons, and seeing someone else by his side made your stomach queasy all for the wrong reasons… but you don’t feel justified in feeling a certain way just because your friend says you should.

you’re not with him and you still don’t even know if you wanna be with him.

“trust me, grace,” you assure her, a confident smile settling on your lips that she only frowns to. “i’ll be fine.”

and as much as she wants to believe it, it’s hard not to doubt knowing the way you are.

how, though you’ve navigated through life barely getting romantically involved with boys, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like san to get you wrapped around his fingers if he wants to.

the guy way too charming; how he just casually checks all criteria from looks to personality, the girl herself rooting for you and him initially, but quickly rethinking the choice after last night.

#im saying #next week cuz #im 10k words in #so im hopeful #this is nothing #like 'broken'#i promise!#ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #san angst #ateez x reader

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