#this has probably been done a million times before but
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riorsonhouse · 9 hours ago
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in the archives
k, so. i decided to post this because why not? i don't know if this idea has been done before, i just could NOT stop thinking about it. like, being a scribe and having sex in the archives, on top of the books no less??
i wrote this at work, on my phone so if the grammar is crazy and things aren't capitalized i'm sorry. if i wrote this on a computer, it would probably look a lot different.
this is really just porn without plot, like i really sat down and wrote ~2k words of smut. not proofread or anything either so again i'm sorry.
minors DNI, please and thank you
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
it’s late, much later than you promised yourself but these books aren't going to read themselves, and you really need to study. the entire space you're occupying is covered with books, no space left on the table as you try your best to absorb as much information as you possibly can.
you rub your tired eyes, trying to focus on the ancient text in front of you. the words are starting to blur together, and you can feel the beginnings of a headache forming at your temples. you've been staring at the pages so long you fear you may start to hallucinate. vaguely you hear the sound of footsteps, and you know you may have to call it a night soon.
no, those are actual footsteps.
heavy footfalls come walking towards you, you only glance up ever so slightly, just enough to notice the Rider black the person is wearing, you sigh.
“Riders are not allowed to be here right now,” you start the speech you've uttered a million times now, anytime a Rider wanders in well past their allotted time. “you can return at a later time when the Archives…” you trail off when you look up completely and meet Xaden’s eyes. he’s got his signature smirk on his face, the on that makes your heart skip a beat.
you glance around quickly, making sure there's no one else in the Archives at this late hour. your heart is racing, both from his presence and the thrill of doing something you probably shouldn't. the way he's looking at you makes your breath catch in your throat.
“how did you even get…?” your question hangs in the air, because Xaden can do anything he sets his mind to. “did you need something?”
“that's a loaded question,” he counters, and then he's standing next to you, looking over your shoulder at the many, many books you have spread out.
“what are you reading?” he asks, bending so that his lips are right at your ear. “anything interesting?” his hands find themselves on your waist.
“maybe not for you, but to me, this is all interesting.”
he laughs lightly, turning his head and kissing the side of your neck gently. “are you at a place where you can take a break?”
“maybe…” you lean into his touch, almost forgetting for a second where you are.
“i’ve been thinking about you all day,” he says, his voice low and rough. his warm breath tickles your skin as his lips brush against your ear.
"let me show you just how much i've missed you," he whispers, and the sound sends shivers down your spine. you can barely form a coherent thought as his hands begin to wander, exploring your body with a familiarity that makes your heart race.
“we're in the middle of the Archives,” your voice betrays how aroused you are. you want to sound firm, but your words come out heavy, laced with your desire for him, even if you are doing something that would easily get you kicked out of the Quadrant.
“looks to me like we're surrounded by bookshelves,” he he slowly brings his hands up your body, stopping just below your breasts, waiting to see if you're comfortable. “and you're the only Scribe dedicated enough to be in here this late…”
his flattery makes you roll your eyes, but you find yourself leaning more into his touch, his body is all muscle behind you, his scent is filling your nose and making it hard to think. he reaches up to cup one of your breasts then, and a small moan from you has him nearly melting.
“can i taste you?” he asks, bring his hands back down to your waist. you nod, not trusting your voice to not squeak. “you're all i think about at night when i have my hands on my cock,” he says, moving away from you slightly, you almost want to complain about the loss of contact but you shudder as he bends down, gathering up your robes to pull them up over your hips, exposing your underwear.
“i think of the sounds you make,” he stands up again, kissing your neck again, his tongue wet against your flushed skin. “how tight you feel wrapped around me when you come.”
you very nearly moan at his words, he’s always been vocal, but gods. you feel the rush of arousal flow through your body, settling low in your stomach.
his palm touches your lower back, gently sliding up between your shoulders, pressing your upper body forward. you find yourself laying on top of the tome you were studying.
“Xaden, these-” your breath hitches as he lightly kicks your feet apart, leaving your legs spread. you clear your throat, his fingers pull down your underwear, the cool air hits your core and you shiver.
“Xaden, these books are older than Basgiath.” it's a warning, but you're not sure who you're giving it to. he certainly doesn't care, he's sinking to his knees behind you.
“we have to be careful around- oh,” your words die in your throat, a moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it as he licks from your clit to your entrance with a broad swipe of his tongue.
there's a deep rumble of a moan that escapes from his mouth, and the vibration of his has your knees weakening. you turn your head enough to see him, and the sight of him on his knees behind you pushes you even closer to an orgasm.
you feel his fingers at your entrance and you know you won't last much longer. there's just something about his fingers that always does you in, he’s magical with them. he pushes two inside you, curling them against the spot that has you seeing stars. with his fingers buried deep inside you, his mouth goes back to your clit, sucking lightly at the sensitive bud, and that's what pushes you over the edge.
“i’m gonna- fuck, Xaden, i’m-” your orgasm steals your words, but he knew you were going to come anyways, you could feel his smirk against your pussy.
he lets you catch your breath for a moment, he stands up and cleans his face a bit before he helps you stand up and turn around to face him. he looks handsome like this, under the mage lights having just eaten you out.
you reach up, running your fingers through his dark hair, tugging gently as he leans down to kiss you. his tongue traces your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you gladly give. you can feel him hard against your thigh, the evidence of his own arousal making you ache with need all over again.
“you're…really good at that,” it's all you can get out. there’s no other words for what he just did. he chuckles slightly at your comment.
"i'm always happy to show you just how good i can be for you," he says, his voice low and gravelly. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver with anticipation.
he lifts you enough to set your ass on the table. you move some of the more important books away, in your haste, one gets knocked off the table, a gasp almost leaves your mouth as you watch it fall only to be scooped up and deposited on a nearby table by shadows. Xaden’s lips are on yours a half a heartbeat later.
the kiss is all heat, swirling tongues and moans. you can taste yourself on him, and it's so sinful and so filthy you feel yourself clench around nothing, a whimper falling from your mouth. you reach down towards his pants, fighting with trembling hands to get them down.
his hard cock springs free and you both take a deep breath. his hands grip your thighs and he pulls you towards the edge of the table so that he can line himself up with your entrance. he runs the head of his cock through your folds once, twice, coating himself in your release before he angles himself downward and sinks into you in one fluid motion.
the fullness is almost overwhelming, but it feels so good it nearly takes your breath away. “Xaden,” you sigh, your head ripping back in pleasure as he starts up a solid pace. with one hand on your hip to hold you steady, he grabs you by the back of the neck with the other, lifting your head back to face him.
“look at me when i’m fucking you,” he says, accentuating his request with sharper pushes of his hips, his hand reaching bf between you to rub against your clit. “wanna see the pretty faces you make when you take my cock.”
the only sounds in the Archives is your wetness, both of your moans, and the sound of skin slapping together, the mixture of it all turning you on more, only adding to the sound more. Xaden’s eyes wander your body as he fucks you, but when his eyes travel down to where you're connected, where his cock is pounding in and out of you he nearly crumbles.
“look at you, you're doing so good for me, taking me so well,” his praise shamelessly goes straight to your clit.
“and you’re doing it right here in the Archives, anyone could walk in a see you right now. i could bathe us in shadows so we're hidden but,” he pulls out suddenly, flipping you back onto your stomach, you use your hands for leverage and arch your back, he slide back in and begins his pace again. the wind nearly leaves you at how deep he is from this angle. “you wouldn't want that though, would you? i bet you want someone walk in and see me fucking you like the little slut you are.”
the moan you let out is guttural. every thrust of his hips sends his cock deeper and deeper inside of you and he's all you can think of. Xaden floods all your senses until you're nothing more than a whimpering mess on the table for him.
his hands are gripping your hips so tightly you know there will be bruises tomorrow, but you can't bring yourself to care. you can feel another orgasm building rapidly, your walls fluttering around his thick cock as he drives into you mercilessly. "Xaden, please, i'm so close," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.
his pace falters a little bit, his thrusts growing sloppier and he chases his own orgasm.
"come for me," he commands, his voice rough with need. "come on my cock." his words combined with a particularly deep thrust send you over the edge, your second orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure. your walls clench around him rhythmically, and with a deep groan, he follows you over the edge, spilling inside you as his hips stutter to a stop.
for a few seconds after, you both stay there panting. there's ringing in your ears, and you're fairly certain that if you tried to move, you'd simply fall over. eventually, brought back to earth by Xaden pressing soft kisses along your back, over your clothing. it's a sweet gesture that's vastly different from what he was just doing.
he pulls out gently, and you nearly whimper at the loss of him. he helps you stand, and you can feel your knees shaking slightly. with gentle hands, he helps you fix your clothing, pressing one last soft kiss to your temple. you take a moment to straighten up the books on the table, making sure nothing was damaged during your activities.
he pulls his pants back up, tucking himself back in. “are the books okay?” he asks, you're certain he's mostly joking but you answer anyways.
"they're fine," you say with a small laugh, running your fingers over the spines of the books. "though i should probably get back to studying now."
he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "or we could go back to my room and continue this somewhere more... comfortable."
“let's not push our luck too much in one night,” you say, kissing him quickly, “zihnal has been kind enough to us so far, let's not test his patience,”
Xaden chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. "as you wish," he says, pressing one final kiss to your shoulder before stepping back. "but don't study too late. i'll see you tomorrow?"
you nod, but you can't honestly say you will. the odds of you and Xaden being able to see each other regularly are not great, but you both like to pretend regardless. “see you tomorrow.”
he leaves quietly, his footsteps fading into the depths of the Archives. you turn back to your studies, but your mind keeps drifting to the warmth of his touch, the taste of his kiss. with a sigh, you force yourself to focus on the ancient text before you, knowing that these precious moments with him are all you can have for now.
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galacticleechart · 5 months ago
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This was way too much fun too draw... Enjoy Tom Paris holding up one of the warp 10 salamander babies
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incesthemes · 9 months ago
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where it begins, erica jong
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jellynut · 4 months ago
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This AU has probably been done a million times before, but I love the idea of Bill being trapped inside Stan’s head after the finale.
I’m calling it the “Bill Still” au
#billstillau
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lucinfernos · 28 days ago
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CONTENT CREATOR ARCANE AU INTRODUCTIONS ⭐
finally put together this handy dandy info sheet for your ease of access!
Jayce a.k.a. ManOfProgress (benevolently referred to as MOP by his fans) — 31 years old, he/him, bisexual trans man, Mexican-Brazilian — Started content creation in 2020 as a hobby to battle the pandemic boredom but blew up and decided to make it his full-time gig — Streams games and goofballery on Twitch [623k followers] and posts & streams more personal and unrelated content on YouTube [102k subscribers] — Found Viktor’s channel ~6 months before they started talking and feels very comforted by his voice; sleeps to his videos every night and puts one on whenever he’s anxious or angry — Got into a bad car accident as a child that was fatal to his father and left him with chronic pain on his left leg; now wears a knee brace and a calf compress periodically
Viktor a.k.a. TheMachineHerald — 32 years old, he/him, gay trans man, Czech-Polish — Was unable to leave the house during the peak of the pandemic and found joy and inspiration from Jayce’s content, and chose to start dabbling in content creation in 2022 — Creates very technically advanced and meticulously crafted ASMR videos; usually fully focuses on the mechanical sounds and tech aesthetic but lately has been brancing out more [12,3k subscribers before he gets in kahoots with Jayce] — Started showing his face only around the time when Jayce started watching him and is a bit irritated over the boost in popularity it granted him — Has many health problems, including scoliosis and rheumatoid arthritis (which has caused lung scarring and severe cartilage damage to his right leg and spine from when he was younger and could not access the necessary care to get the inflammation in control)
Mel a.k.a. Melicious (to this day her fans argue whether this is a reference to delicious or malicious) — 33 years old, she/her, bisexual; Jayce’s ex-girlfriend, African-American w/ Algerian roots — Was with Jayce during her time in Piltover but they made the mutual decision to part ways when she was accepted into an art school in London; are still close friends — Made very high-quality weekly diary-style vlogs, often related to art [837k subscribers]. Went on a semi-hiatus after moving but is active on other social medias like Instagram [1,4 million followers]
Jinx a.k.a. GETJINXED — 19 years old, she/they, agender aroace; in a queerplatonic relationship with Ekko, American — Gained popularity on TikTok and later on Twitch when people realized she’s the sister Vi is always complaining about; has no niche and does literally anything she wants to do that day, which usually has to do with either art or engineering [166k followers on Twitch, 850k on TikTok] — Working on an independent music career on the side with their debut single Get Jinxed going viral on TikTok — Lost her finger ON STREAM when working on an art installation, the clip has millions of views
Ekko a.k.a. The_Boy_Savior — 20 years old, he/any, probably nonbinary but he has a job so he doesn’t care abt that rn, bi & asexual; in a queerplatonic relationship with Jinx, African-American — Creates well-researched and thought-provoking video essays about worldwide issues, especially dedicated to the health of the planet and its people [317k subscribers] — Surprised everyone by appearing in one of Jinx’s tiktoks because nobody knew they knew each other let alone that they were in a QPR — Frequently holds fundraisers and has done a lot of good for his community
Caitlyn a.k.a. KillshotKiramman — 23 years old, she/her, lesbian; Vi’s girlfriend and Jayce’s best friend, Chinese-British — Makes videos about weapons (mostly guns and shooting) [176k subscribers] and plays games on her Twitch [29k followers] — Moderates Jayce and Vi’s streams, and completely destroys both of them at FPS games — Had a gun misfiring accident which left her blind in her left eye
Violet a.k.a. vistandsforvideogames — 24 years old, any pronouns, gender-apathetic (call her whatever you like) lesbian; Caitlyn’s partner, American — Gamer on Twitch, but also shares about her side job as a boxer [212k followers] — Sometimes mods for Jayce but mainly just shows up to kick his ass in Mortal Kombat and exude chaotic energy
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simpforboys · 2 months ago
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surprise!
drew starkey x fem!singer!reader
summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…
warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart
‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3
part two , part three, part four
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2020
“Who’s your celebrity crush?”
“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”
“Do you have a celebrity crush?
“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”
“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”
“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”
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2021
“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”
“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”
“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”
“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”
“What’s your type in a man?”
“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”
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2022
“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”
“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”
“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”
“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”
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2023
“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”
“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”
“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”
“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”
“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”
“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”
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2024
“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”
“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”
“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”
“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”
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Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.
Drew Starkey.
It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.
Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.
Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.
“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”
When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.
Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.
“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.
“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.
The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.
“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”
“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.
“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.
“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.
“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.
You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”
Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.
“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”
You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.
“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.
“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.
“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.
You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.
“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.
“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”
You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.
“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.
“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.
If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.
But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.
“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.
“Please don’t pass out.”
Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.
Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.
The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.
Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.
“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”
You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.
Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.
“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.
“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.
“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.
“I’m honored,” Drew replies.
You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.
Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.
“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.
“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.
“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.
Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.
You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.
“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.
“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.
Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.
The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.
He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.
He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.
And nervous.
“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.
“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.
Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.
The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.
You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.
After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.
“You ready?” Drew asked you.
You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.
Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.
It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.
“So… you like my new song?”
You finally manage to choke out.
Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.
“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.
You nod, making eye contact with him.
“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”
You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.
“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.
“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”
You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.
“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.
A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.
“Yeah?”
He nodded, licking his lips.
“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.
“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”
You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.
Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”
“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”
You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.
“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”
Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.
“You too, Drew.”
You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.
By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.
Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.
It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.
@/drewstarkey started following you back
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russenoire · 1 month ago
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reblogging just for @little-seed's tags. i'm dying.
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ritsu having the boring flavorless version of shou's favorite food is so funny to me i know every meal these two share is a nightmare. like shou and ritsu share a box of popcorn chicken and its already a little on the spicy side for ritsu but still tolerable and shou's like "man this is plain :/" and pulls out like 20 packets of chili garlic sauce from his pockets and drenches the whole thing and ritsu had already long since finished his drink so by the time they're done eating ritsu is like shaking and sweating and crying
#YES#YOU SEE MY VISION#forever hcing Ritsu as liking pepperoni pizza without the pepperoni#and ppl are like “just order cheese??”#but it's not about having plain pizza it's about having the toppings cooked in the pepperoni flavor#but the pepperoni themselves are too spicy.#His family is fine with this bc it makes ordering pizza way more convenient than having to order multiple types#and no one's gonna complain about extra pepperoni.#Ritsu has been doing this for YEARS and has a whole system down on when to peel off the pepperoni so as not#to burn his fingers or rip off all the cheese with them--but also still leave the cheese supple and warm enough to#still be enjoyable and not make the pepperoni hard to pick off from being stuck to cooled cheese.#He has a system. His family is used to this. he doesn't have friends to eat out with who have witnessed his pizza habits.#No one brings this up ever.#Enter Suzuki Shou#they eat pizza for the first time together and Shou orders a sausage for himself and a pepperoni for Ritsu bc he. Asked for pepperoni. He i#eating the pizza ta tho??? He is staring at his slice and occasionally poking it while they carry on conversation as normal#and like. Okay. Maybe it tastes funny and Ritsu's just being polite --but has he even tried it yet? No#not other than ripping off a piece of the crust which is a weird pizza behavior in its own right.#And then Ritsu starts methodically peeling and stacking the pepperoni like he's done this a million times#and Shou is not listening to the conversation anymore he is watching Ritsu#And finally when Ritsu takes his first real bite of pizza he's like “i could have ordered you cheese”#But and Ritsu can already feel the tired annoyance ready to set in while he explains but#Shou isn't looking at him like he's some smatr alec hellbent on making life more difficult for himself#He's looking at Ritsu like Ritsu must be holding some secret treasure that he wants in on. Now. and he might be willing to jump across the#table and take a bite of the pizza himself just to find out.#Suffice to say Shou takes the detailed explanation in stride and is privately thrilled to be friends with such a weirdo who will give him#his pepperoni. He also immediately wants to know if it's the same for sausage pizza but Ritsu has never tried bc#picking out sausage bits is too messy. Shou suggests using his powers WHICH. RITSU HAS NEVER THOUGHT OF BEFORE THIS MOMENT#They can't try with Shou's bc he drowns his pizza in red pepper flakes and they both agree that would probably permanently alter Ritsu#for the worst lol BUT cue their next pizza date being them picking the toppings off pizza slices for Ritsu to try.
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tgcg · 9 months ago
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an open fly walking
i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now
TG: hey karkat
CG: YEAH?
===
TG: you ever noticed you like
TG: walk weird
CG: WOW, OKAY.
CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?
TG: pff
===
TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity
TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but
TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man
CG: I DO???
TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault
TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale
TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity
TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it
CG: SERIOUSLY?
===
TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but
TG: yeah
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.
TG: im not fucking with you striders honor
TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything
CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.
CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.
TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me
CG: ON IT.
===
===
TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude
CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.
TG: dont your feet ache
===
CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.
TG: damn i didnt think that through
TG: my shades
CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.
TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with
TG: ugh
===
TG: guess its karma
CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?
TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor
TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing
TG: just conjecture i mean
CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.
TG: yeah probably
CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.
===
TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets
TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot
CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.
CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.
CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".
TG: well look at it this way
TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass
TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol
CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.
===
TG: also screw this can i use your shirt
TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up
TG: i cant see dick
CG: UH
CG: SURE, I GUESS.
TG: cool
===
TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right
TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night
CG: YEAH.
CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.
CG: BUT
CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.
TG: see yeah i sound it off and
===
TG: wait really?
CG: YEAH
CG: I DON'T KNOW
CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.
===
CG: IT'S LIKE
CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.
CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.
TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing
CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.
TG: you think thatd be heroic or just
CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.
CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?
TG: hah
===
TG: but uh
TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth
CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.
CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.
TG: oh
CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.
===
TG: heh
TG: well get this
TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free
TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues
TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time
TG: take that and some of this
TG: im packin punches
CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!
CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.
CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.
CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.
TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here
===
CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?
TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given
TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool
CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.
4K notes · View notes
satorena · 27 days ago
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#INTRO2MUNCH101
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summ. when suguru “eat it off the bone” geto actually turns out to be suguru “flaps the left lip until she calls it a night” geto, he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew about his skills. . . talk about a rude awakening.
cw. explicit content. foul language. fem!reader. college!au. eventual smut (but not in the way you think. . .) mild modern lingo. allusions to music artists. cunningulūs. male masturbation. reader has a belly piercing. she’s also depicted mean by the boys. gojo cameos bc i can’t not mention him. tattoo artist!geto. substance consumption. lowkeyyy self-indulgent reader. 10k wc.
rena's note. this is a spin-off to p power, so i’d suggest reading that first to understand the correlation!
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suguru geto is a simple man.
your pleasure is his pleasure. he’s always prided himself on being a pro at the art of cunningulus. honest— he’s always left with swollen lips, a heavily sprayed face and a solid five star ratings at the end of his work. his jaw feels tired out, scalp burning from consistent hair tugs, and his breathing uneven from lack of oxygen. but at the feel of plush thighs squeezing his face and the repetition of his name flowing into the air before getting squirted on, he remembers it’s always worth it.
no pain no gain, right?
wrong.
because here he finds himself, a hefty hour in since he first dove in between your soft legs, and there’s been absolutely no development. sprawled on your back on his sheets, arm slung over your eyes, and your breathing even. you look fucking bored, and his heart is sinking to his ass.
geto will use every trick he has in the book. he’s noticed overtime that girls have different bodies, therefore he needs different tactics to stimulate those bodies. he nips at your puffy bud, sucking on your clit for external pleasure. no use. fine, then he’ll push your thighs up some more for a deeper penetration of his fingers in your cunt— still no use. the only sounds being produced are his mouth slipping against his own saliva at your pussy because he can’t even get you wet enough.
the pit in his stomach grows larger. he wonders if maybe you’re just the silent type? he’s come across those before.
he’s getting nervous out of his mind, so shaky and uncoordinated that his hand slips and meets your lips for the umpteenth time— and only then do you release a guttural groan, the very first sound you’ve made in a long ass time. wait—
“did. . . did you cum?” he pants, pulling his sticky lips away from yours. his face feels moist, blood rushing all in his head and he’s lightheaded. but still, he has to know.
you push yourself up to your elbows, annoyance clear as day. he’s yet to seen this look on a girl after pulling every card known on the table, “yeah. . . to the wrong fucking house.”
oh fuck.
☆ ☆ ☆
he first spotted you chatting it up with your friends on the school’s soccer field, on a random tuesday afternoon, and he’s been hooked on you ever since.
the universe played a funny game, and he realized university truly is a small ass world. amongst your friends, he noticed a familiar face. one he’s been hearing and seeing of one too many times lately, on multiple separate and traumatic occasions— gojo’s girlfriend. suguru found himself bonding with her due to their familiar point of interest— that being gojo— and believes he can now make of her a friend.
geto watches his best friend’s eyes shimmer and he flashes his infamous million dollar smile. he really is obsessed with his girlfriend and she doesn’t even know— and geto finds himself wishing he had somebody he’d be this ecstatic over. must be nice.
“i’m gonna go say hi to my girl real quick,” gojo taps at his shoulder, and geto nods. he’s cool on it, he’ll wait back here until he’s done, or can make his way to his next class depending on whatever gojo and his girlfriend arrange. “you comin’?”
“i’m probably gonna head to our next lecture.” geto voices out, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. he feels gojo peeking over his shoulder, in which he assumes to verify if that would be necessary.
over forty-five minutes. damn it.
“that’s mad pointless, class doesn’t start till more than half an hour,” gojo says, and geto doesn’t see himself waiting around that long for a lecture. no way, “just come— her friends are chill.”
fuck it, he goes. naturally, gojo is all over his girl and her friends expect it. geto does give them a little wave when gojo introduces him. one of the girls mention having heard of him through a friend— something about a failed talking stage. mad federal, and the sheepish chuckle geto offers when you give him an unreadable look makes him want to crawl into a ditch.
so now you think he’s a whore. awesome.
and gojo’s smirk definitely doesn’t help him out. he doesn’t help out at all actually, so enamoured by his girlfriend that he leaves geto to fend for himself against a pack of wolves (read: nosy girls). he replies only when spoken to, nods when necessary and throws in a few “that’s crazy,” to which the girls fail to pick up he’s out of words to say.
well, everyone except you.
you’re quiet. in fact, the whole time, you haven’t said shit to him. you sit back and observe, occasionally typing on your macbook, or reapplying your lip combo. you didn’t have any words to say to him. even when your friends would talk to you, you gave them short answers and went back to listening to whatever was playing in your airpods. he could tell from that small interaction alone, you were the mean one out of your clique.
and fuck if that didn’t make him want you more. there was just something about mean women that made him want to break through their fake ass exteriors and watch them turn all soft and chummy for him.
blame it on his corruption kink.
gojo confirms his thoughts when they’re finally on their way to class. he kissed his girl goodbye and waved off her friends, to which they all (minus you) collectively cooed, “byeee gojooo!” which he found odd, but kept silent. he gave them a small nod before following his best friend.
they’re a few steps in the science building when the words slip before he can help it, ultimately cutting gojo’s rambling off, “yo, who was that girl?”
gojo glances at him before chuckling, “there was like seven of ‘em. which one?”
“the quiet one.”
it throws him off guard when gojo laughs hard. like, really hard. it attracts the attention of bystanders, who give him a crazy look but gojo ignores. as if they’d try to press him about his volume— the two were pretty adored around campus.
geto does find his reaction quite interesting, to which he cocks a brow and offers a chuckle of his own, “what?”
“oh, you definitely mean y/n,” when his laughter dies down, he finally answers. he lifts his shades to his hairline to swipe a tear. “she’s mean as fuck, bro.”
“right?!” geto laughs, tapping at gojo’s shoulder. it only charges gojo’s laughing fit back up, “i could tell from her vibe. she gives off those ‘men ain’t shit’ girlies on twitter. whole time, she’s probably laid up in bed with one.”
“you don’t even knowww,” gojo holds his shoulder and shakes him a bit. geto does in fact know, because he’s dealt with girls like her before. they’re always a good ass time. “she does men dirty. like, absolutely dogs them. heard one phone call too many.”
oh? even better than he expected. she’s probably the type that used to love hard before getting her heart trampled on and decided to seek revenge on all men. like, on some jennifer’s body shit. geto can’t help but smirk, “lemme see for myself. put me on.”
gojo falters in his step. his grip on geto’s shoulders loosen and his expression changes— not by much, but the once lighthearted smile switches to a skeptical one, “you serious?”
geto lets out a soft sigh, shrugging gojo’s hands off his shoulders. “don’t start asking too much. i did a favour for you and your girl, didn’t i?,” well, technically speaking it wasn’t like his comment had been the deciding factor for the two, but it did open gojo’s eyes. “you owe me one.”
“i don’t owe you shit,” gojo laughs, throwing his arm around geto anyways, “buuut you’re my boy and i’m not stingy. i’ll see what i can do, i know you’ve been getting a lil jealous of wifey and i.”
“shut the fuck up.” geto’s chuckles contradict his statement.
from that point on, it’s smooth sailing. gojo texts his girl asking if she’s seeing anybody. they have a little back and forth because his girlfriend assumes he’s asking for himself— which gojo gets all dramatic and throws geto under the bus for free. welp! it all worked out anyway since after he and gojo parted, you’d thought he was fine shyt. judging from your character, he doesn’t exactly take gojo’s words for what they are.
but he’ll take the opening, it’s as good as any.
time to plot.
☆ ☆ ☆
the second encounter was purely coincidental. and simultaneously embarrassing.
see, geto prides himself on his mysterious act— granted he was anything but. people see all that is gojo and automatically assume that geto has to be the cool one. it creates a perfect balance, no?
haven’t people heard of birds of a feather flock together?
so yes, he’s also a nerd. he typically enjoys spending his wednesday afternoons at dice board cafes because why not. it’s a chill, lowkey joint right off campus and not a lot of people gravitate towards, therefore the perfect spot to camp out before his evening lecture.
besides, his buddy choso works there and it gets him discounts. it isn’t the only reason he shows up, but it does help a lot on his pockets. being a student is awful, financially.
geto sips on his choco latte through a straw, browsing through the board games pamphlet as he decides what he’s going to play today. most of these games are pretty pointless if he doesn’t have an opponent, but he likes to think it helps develop his iq. he hears avenoir playing through the cafe and knows choso’s on aux.
who else could be playing this toxic ass shit?
he’s torn choosing between snakes and ladders or chess when he hears chimes at the front door, signalling somebody’s entered the establishment. he doesn’t think much of it, going on about minding his business when he hears choso say your name.
the latte enters the wrong tube and he chokes.
geto collects himself quickly, wiping any stray liquid past his mouth as his head snaps up. you’re propped up against the counter, and though he can’t see your face, he definitely recognizes your build. . . okay, yeah that sounds fucking pervy but if he stalked your page a few times, who’s business is it but his own? it’s not like you’d know. granted, he had got caught up liking one of your older photos but he took the like right back!
he debates on walking up to you. how would that even work without seeming desperate? you’ve been checking out all of his boxes so far— your face, body and attitude (question mark) are all tens. he does want to get to know you— at least be somebody in your life. but damn, why is he overthinking this? all he has to get up there and sweet talk you. he’s done this shit before.
“yo, suguru!”
shit.
purple orbs shift towards where his name was called, and lo and behold, there stands choso. and naturally, you look back to who was summoned, but god— social media does not do your face justice. he last seen you about a week ago, and had nothing but your instagram and his memory to rely on.
he makes his way to the counter and ignores you. doesn’t spare you a glance once— though he stands right at your side and watches you watching him through his peripheral. he nods at choso, “what’s up?”
choso, ever the genius, flicks his eyes between geto and you, before clearing his throat, “shoko just texted— somethin’ about a new client. how’s the studio looking?”
“booked all week,” geto answers truthfully, and he notices you’ve shifted your gaze, “little to no openings. why though?”
choso hums, jolting down online orders into a little notebook, “not even for a special friend?”
geto squints his eyes at that. there isn’t anybody he’d call a special friend that hasn’t already been booked or wouldn’t have his number to squeeze in an appointment. granted, he is a dnd warrior but even his friends know of that quirk of his, “depends. who’s the special friend?”
“me.” and he feels his heart skip a beat. fuck. he tilts his head over to the side, and good lord, your face card gave every girl on campus runs for their money. seriously, your facial features complimented you in a way that told aphrodite— the textbook definition of beauty— to go fuck herself, and hard.
“oh?” geto cocks a brow, and lets his eyes roam up and down your frame. shameless, yes, but he has a reputation to uphold. your rest in face makes his own look like child’s play, “didn’t realize we were on special friends basis.”
you click your tongue, “didn’t realize we were on lurking spam accounts but pretend we don’t exist the next day basis either,” you quip right back, picking at the white bow glued to your acrylics.
sassy. geto chuckles, now fully turning his body around to face you. you match his movements, and he toys with a ring on his middle finger, “guess you got me all figured out,” he pauses, shifting his gaze to choso, who’s already eyeing him. “sounds like you wanted me to reach out.”
“boy please,” you scoff, pausing your nail inspection. you let your hand hang, “you choked earlier because you heard my name. that corny nonchalant act isn’t the flex you’re thinking it is,” a huff escapes your lips, and geto feels blood rushing to his face. “your lurking ass was months deep into my page just a week ago— did you find any men ain’t shit vibes from the photo dump?”
choso stifles a laugh, and when geto looks at him, it dies into a cough. well damn, you really didn’t hold anything back. read him like a book actually— and it doesn’t help that gojo can’t keep his mouth shut for shit. it widens the grin on his face. he thinks he likes you.
“well,” geto smirks, “can’t say i have— means there’s still an opening.”
you furrow your brows, “oh? an opening to what exactly?”
“an appointment, of course,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. his locks are getting in his face, but the messy look always gets him compliments. might as well shoot his shot, “you know. . .” leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, “for a special friend.”
his double entendre definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you. he watches how, despite the mean mugging, there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. you’re squinting just slightly, almost as if you were weighing out the pros and cons. geto won’t break the eye contact first— he’s on a mission. he hopes the tired eyes look will be on his side this time.
tattoo or dick appointment— he would one hundred percent make an opening for you. anything to get his hands on your body.
“are we still talking about the tattoo parlour or . . .”
both you and he turn to choso, who’s watching the situation unfold. just count on him to ruin the mood, whether the obliviousness was feigned or not. choso tightens his brows at the look geto shoots him, “what?”
“i’m gonna head out,” you grab at your handbag, hopping of the seat. nicely played choso. you gather your items and slip them in your purse, sliding a few bucks across the counter. choso grabs the bills and stick them in the tip jar, nodding at her. “catch you in poly sci?”
“if you don’t skip again.” choso snorts and you flip him off, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you turn on your heel and make your way towards the exit, ultimately dismissing geto. that doesn’t feel too nice, he should probably stop that bad habit.
he rises to his feet before he can help it. his hand grabs at your wrist and notices how much smaller it seems in comparaison to his, and he hates the next words that leave his mouth, “what about me?”
you glance down at his hold on you, before looking back up at him, “what about you?” your face says everything your lips haven’t— you’re getting the ick.
he wants to wince. okay, yeah that was corny, “when do i get to see you?”
you drag out a mini hum, your gaze dancing over his silver chain around his collarbone, “dunno. you have my socials so i assume in the next hour.”
he tilts his head to the side, and the pad of his thumb grazes over your smooth skin. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your hand stiffens under his touch, “so if i slide in your dms in the next hour, i can expect an answer?”
a snort leaves your chest, and he can’t tell if it’s a condescending one or an amused one. what he does know, however, is that he’s going to be seeing you sometime soon. you take your hand back into your possession before laying it in the dead centre of his chest, pushing him back just slightly, “i’ll see you around, geto.”
his eyes trail over your figure, every step you take out of the establishment, slightly starstruck by the entirety of you— your boldness. the thrill he was beginning to feel felt like a high. he hasn’t met anybody this entertaining in a while.
“you’re so fucking corny.” he thinks he hears choso insult him from behind. he doesn’t pay him any mind, despite the middle finger that tips towards the ceiling. partynextdoor blasts in the cafe, specifically freak in you, and he hates how he finds himself relating to the lyrics,
room full of beautiful women but he only wants one.
☆ ☆ ☆
“you stalking me, pretty?”
“sure,” you nod your head, raking through the items on the clothing rack. you don’t spare him a single glance, picking a top off the rack and inspecting it, “if stalking means visiting the busiest thrift store on the busiest hour in the busiest city.”
geto lets out a small laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargos. you make him feel like a nuisance, like he’s a pest wasting your time. ironic, seeing as he wasn’t that much of a bother just last night, when you’d been indulging him in your inbox, “of course you’re the thrifting type.”
you pause your actions, price tag in your fingers as you side eye him through locks of your hair, “and you’re not?”
“didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart.” geto shrugs, pulling off a cropped baby tee and bringing towards you. it has sequins sewn in the material, the gems writing out juicy couture. “this would suit you— belly piercing and whatnot.”
the top is cute, there was no denying so. a pretty shade of pink that suited your complexion, but letting his ego inflate bigger than it already was out of the question. he could tell your thought process from the judgmental look you offered, “oh god—you’re one of those fake ass, streetwearing fashionistas, aren’t you?”
geto blinks a few times, before letting out a sincere laugh. he’s been called a multitude of things before, but that one was new, “you got all that from me suggesting you buy this juicy couture tee? don’t all girls fiend over this vintage shit?”
“it’s that corny ass personality of yours,” you grab the shirt, throwing it in your cart. he wants to make a comment on that, but you beat him to the chase, “the phoney nonchalant act, the streetwear, your insta aesthetic— you’re so scripted.”
“my insta aesthetic?” he repeats, and doesn’t miss a step to catch up to you. your hands are back on the handle of your shopping cart, and if the way his elbows bump into your shoulders bothers you, you don’t make point in commenting on it. “who’s the lurker now, hm?”
you roll your eyes, pushing the strolley ahead, “don’t let it get to your big ass head. your feed screams you’re those toxic ass brent faiyaz wannabes,” he watches your fingertips rake through more clothings that pass your way, before you shoot him a glance, “let me guess— he showed on your spotify wrapped.”
his silence speaks volumes, and you click your tongue, “see? scripted.”
“and what about you?” geto counters when you make a pit stop. you pull away from your cart when a denim skirt catches your eye. you lift the skirt up to your eyes, before looking over your shoulder, cocking a brow.
“what about me?”
“the tweet reposts, the song choices for your highlights, the whole spiritual baddie persona,” he presses behind you, his chest meeting your back. he rests his chin atop your head, purple eyes landing on the clothing article that’s lowering in your hold, “if my page gives brent then yours definitely gives jhene.”
you’re mute for a second, and you chuck the skirt into the cart. you pull away from beneath him, spinning on your feet to face him, and you’ve got a scowl on your lips, “what’s wrong with jhene?”
“and you call me the toxic one.” geto pokes at your cheek. you swipe his hand away, and he laughs, “don’t get me wrong though— she makes good music. but let’s not act like she’s all innocent either,” his gaze lowers to your glossy lips, the fullness of the pair hypnotic, “a real freak. should i call you my pussy fairy?”
“do not,” you reply, weaving around him to make your way back to your cart. geto laughs, snatching a few things of the racks before dumping them in your stuff. you give him a deadpanned look and he whistles it off, feigning ignorance. “jhene’s a lovergirl. thought i was part of the men ain’t shit community.”
“you’re not gonna let that go, are you?” geto sighs. he owes gojo another thump in the head.
you roll your eyes, “thank your homeboy for that.”
“two things can be true at once,” geto fiddles with the hem of his jacket. he’s back at walking step by step with you, and you haven’t told him to fuck off yet, so he’s going to milk the opportunity out. “you’re mean but a lovergirl. you hate men but a real freak with them. right or wrong?”
you halter in your steps, and geto’s now a few steps ahead of you, so he looks over his shoulder to meet your bored expression, “i know you’re not trying to read me in the middle of value village.”
“no better time than the present,” he smiles, one that creases a dimple in his cheeks. “come on up— what are you waiting for?”
you stare at him some more, inhaling sharply, “mind you, i never invited you to join me,” you shake your head but comply regardless. cute, looks like you’re enjoying his company more than you’re letting on.
so he graces you his presence some more. he shops along with you, sneaks clothes into your cart when you’re distracted and asks you stupid questions. it’s a good time— to him at least, being able to get to know you some more without interruptions. naturally, you feign that his company is the bane of your existence, but he doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips when he taps his card into the reader at the check out.
hell yeah he’s got money to spend and is willing to show off if it means getting on your good side.
it’s only after he helps you bag your shit into your car, that he realizes this is where the both of you part ways. it annoys him slightly, but he doesn’t need to overstep his boundaries. he closes your trunk and makes his way to the driver’s side, where you’re already buckled up.
he taps at your window and the glass rolls down all the way, to which he leans forward. he’s in your line of sight now and you sigh, tilting your head sideways, “what?”
“do i get a goodbye kiss?” geto teases, honest, the boyish smirk he offers accentuating the playful undertone. the last thing he expects is you shifting in your seat, pushing yourself up and peaking your head out the window.
his smirk drops, brows jumping to his hairline. you’re really fucking close now, and for a split second he thinks you’re actually going to do it. he can see the flecks of colours swimming in your orbs, the tip of your nose bumps into his and your breath fans his cupid’s bow.
fuck, you smell really good. he bets you taste even better. his mouth is running dry, mindlessly darting his tongue out to wet his own lips. he doesn’t realize he’s let himself lean into your space, eyes narrowing on your mouth parting over his.
he’s pulled out of his trance when two fingers press at his forehead and push. he blinks his lashes, snapping back to reality as you sit back into your seat. you look amused— as if you’d played the funniest game right in his face and he’d been the star player.
“i’ll see you around, geto.”
and you drive off.
☆ ☆ ☆
“come back in a few weeks for a checkup. we’ll make sure the healing process is running smoothly. i’ll catch you soon.”
he lets out a tired sigh when the door finally closes, slumping into his seat and shuts his eyes. he’s exhausted— having woken up early for lectures and labs to back to back appointments with clients. this time around, the parlour is always booked and busy. students find it the perfect timing to get tatted to let it heal before showing it off in the summer.
it’s smart for them but idiotic for him. midterms are up, and the only time he has to study is in between appointments. he slides off his gloves and drags his seat towards his desk, redirecting his attention focus towards the blinding screen.
he feels a headache building at his temple, sipping at his iced coffee to keep him energized. contradicting, sure, but you didn’t have the luxury to be a beggar and a chooser when you were a full time student. the parlour he ran resided in his loft apartment, on the second floor. he enjoyed the comfort of his own home, spacious room and wide windows compared to outside stores.
his cat, nanako, purrs at his feet and he feels his heart swell. if there was one weakness he had in this world, it’d be her. he picks her up from the floor, presses her at his rib cage and nuzzles his nose in her fur.
“hi baby,” geto coos, and nanako lets out a sound. he continues to coddle her, fluffing her fur and rubbing at her ears, “it’s been pretty lively in here, hasn’t it? i knowww,” he coos, and as if nanako understands his words, she makes a pitiful sound that slightly shatters his heart.
geto decides to place her on his lap, her company serving plenty of motivation as he rolls back to his desk. he grabs the remote to his built-in speakers, turning the volume higher, before locking back in. exams are full of crap, and words are starting to jumble on his screen— he’s beginning to contemplate if this education shit is even worth the stress.
he’s an hour deep in jolting notes down on his ipad when he hears a knock at his front door. he scrunches his brows and glances at his agenda— he isn’t due for an appointment until another few hours. he sits it out, starting to believe he’d maybe imagined the sound. he knows it isn’t gojo since he’s celebrating an anniversary with his girl, and any other friend would’ve called to let him know they’re outside.
probably some jehovah witness shit, he thinks to himself, fingers hovering over his speaker remote to crank the volume back up. he turns back to his laptop screen, petting nanako mindlessly when his ipad flashes an instagram notification.
yourstruly.yn: open up
he jumps to his feet, chair rolling back. nanako flies to his desk, landing on all fours as she hisses at him for his suddenness. geto grabs her and kisses her ear, “sorry baby,” before sitting her on the floor. she walks off to her mini bean bag right at the foot of his desk, and he senses an attitude coming from her.
damn, he’d forgotten he squeezed you in last night in the midst of his sweet talking. that was truly a stupid move, he was already behind on studying, and because he likes to think with his head instead of his actual head, he’d fall even further behind.
he checks around the flat— picks up stray wrappers and fixes throw pillows, arranges his sheets. he was a clean man for the most part— he had been so distracted with his studies that there wasn’t much to dirty in the first place. his candles had already been lit so he knew the place smelled fine. he’s pretty positive his loft is clean enough to leave a good first impression.
he fixes loose hairs and straightens out his hoodie and sweats. thank fuck he’d showered not too long ago— he’s beginning to understand why his mother was always so insistent on being clean in case of random pop ups.
when he does finally open the door, there you stood. it was pretty chilly outside this time around, so he wasn’t surprised by the harsh wind flowing in and the clutch of your coat in your hold. your nose began reddening, and you sniffled, scowling from the cold.
you’re so cute, he sends you a smile, “hey.”
“hi,” you replied, sniffling again. “you ever planning on letting me in?”
“dunno,” he crosses his arms over his chest. he leans against the doorframe, ignoring the way he was starting to feel the frosty wind setting in his bones, “maybe if you ask nicely.”
you shoot him a deadpanned look, “move.”
“no.” geto smiles, “try again.”
“move, now.” a small pout is starting to form on your lips. he really liked testing your patience, since it always seemed to run low. you must’ve met your match— because geto always had time to fuck around.
“close, but not quite.”
“oh my goddd,” you groan, and that’s when he decides to let up. it really is colder than a bitch outside and he’d already kept you waiting while tidying up. he lets out a chuckle when you turn to the side, “i’m leaving— too damn cold for this.”
“alright, i’m playing,” geto widens the door. you stop your movements and glare at him. he aims an arm towards the inside of his loft, “don’t go, come in.”
you grumble something beneath your breath but comply, walking right past him. he follows behind you, shutting the door close and is immediately greeted back with warmth. you slip your shoes off and place them on the rack, before stepping in further into his apartment.
he slides his hands into his sweatpants’ pockets, catching up to you in the living room. your head is tilted upwards as you inspect the place though you remain in place. he stands beside you, bumping his shoulder into your arm, “so? up to your standards?”
you’re quiet for a while, letting your eyes roam around as the words build in your mind, “it’s typical,” you shrug but don’t elaborate. you’ve been staring at an art piece he’d done first year when he was fried out of his mind. you shift your gaze back to him, “where do i put my shit?”
“you can leave it in my bedroom, if that’s fine.” geto suggests and you nod wordlessly, to which he leads you to the second floor. he’s walking up the stairs and prays he doesn’t fall flat on his face— his socks can be a real bitch sometimes.
you both make it to his bedroom, with you trailing a little behind. he grabs a hanger from his mobile clothing rack, stretching an arm out to you, “i’ll hang your jacket here.”
you slide off the coat from your frame and hand it to him, to which he hangs on the rack. you circle around his bedroom with your tote on your shoulder, while he makes his way back to next to his desk. it’s pretty quiet for the most part, besides the music playing gently in the background.
your gaze lands on the cluttered items on his desk, noticing the half empty cup of coffee, notebooks and ipad on display, “did i catch you at a bad time?”
“honestly? yeah,” geto shrugs, before motioning at your tote bag. you slip it off and hand it to him, to which he sits at his nightstand, “but it’s my fault anyway, i squeezed you in a busy time. you know how exam season gets.”
“i can always reschedule,” you offer, checking your phone screen for the date, “it’s not that deep.”
“i don’t want you to leave,” geto slumps back into his seat and heaves out a sigh. he spins the chair around to catch you giving him a flat look. he leans back in his seat and spreads his thighs, smirking, “would you stay?”
“depends. are you going to be studying?” you quip, crossing your arms back to your chest.
geto ponders on what to say next. it’s not like he doesn’t want to tatt you up, but he really is caught in a bind. he also doesn’t want you to leave— not when he’s been wanting to see you since the last time he’d seen you. does he prioritize his wants or his needs?
he hums, “i’ll do whatever you want me to.”
you roll your eyes, scoffing as you make your way to his nightstand. for a second, he thinks you’re getting ready to leave and a weird feeling of disappointment settles in his gut. instead, you grab the bag and sit on the edge of his bed, pulling out your macbook and crossing your legs.
he smiles at that, “attagirl.”
“corny.” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip as you begin typing away.
there’s a comfortable silence that fills the room. he’s back to browsing through his lecture notes, noting down valuable information and memorizing terminology. you don’t say anything either, but the sound of your nails typing at your keyboard blends well with his r&b playlist playing. sounds like you’re writing down an essay or report, depending on whatever your major is.
about half an hour into the silence, does he decide to break it. he looks over his shoulder to where you’re settled on his bed, “you good?” he checks up on you, and you let out a burnt out sigh. he knows exactly how you’re feeling.
“i guess,” you huff, twirling your necklace. your eyes are stuck on your screen, brows creasing into a scowl, “this shit is frying my brain though.”
“what are you writing?” he indulges, dropping his apple pen back onto his desk and spins in his seat to face you. maybe he’s also in due of a break— he’d rather be talking to you anyway.
“this crim report,” you answer, picking at your nail, “it’s not exactly hard but mad lengthy. i have to write a ten page report based on this article and how it contradicts societal norms.”
“ten pages?” geto whistles, rubbing at his chin. he’s settled deeper in his seat, naturally manspreading. you’re much better than him, he would’ve given up before even starting— reports were not his thing, “how far are you in?”
“i started this morning,” you hum, “so i’m four pages in.”
geto nods, “and when is it due?”
“tomorrow night.” you push your laptop off your lap. you close the screen shut and stretch out your legs, releasing a breathy moan as you relax your thighs. “i’ll do this shit later— my head’s starting to hurt.”
geto swears he’s never been so in sync in thought. he dismisses the idea of studying the second you had closed your macbook. probably a bad idea but at the moment, he couldn’t care any less, “want some entertainment?”
you cock a brow, “don’t say no stupid shit.”
“twenty one questions,” geto speaks nonetheless and finds himself beaming brightly when you scoff, “can’t a guy want to get to know you better?”
you ease yourself on his bed, slumping into his sheets as you exhale. you shift onto your side— a sinful curve at your side— tucking your knees and lean your head into your palm, “oh fuck off,” a breathless laugh and nanako makes her presence known, hopping right by you in the space between your body and the edge of the bed, “didn’t know you had a cat. she’s cute.”
“how’d you know she was a she?” geto wonders, surprised just slightly by how welcoming nanako was around you. she purred when you stroke at her fur, nuzzling further into your chest. nanako hated everyone— especially gojo, who unironically visited the most.
“instinct,” you shrugged but there’s a faint smile on your lips. not directed towards him, but his baby, “i also have a cat— he’s a fucking menace though.”
that’s one thing in common already, “like mother like son,” geto grins lazily when you flip him off mindlessly, and when you raise nanako in both your hands, he’s ready to warn you she isn’t a big fan of sudden movements— but when she mewls, the same sound she makes when geto brings home a new toy, the words die down in his throat.
he observes you both silently. you cradle nana as if she were a newborn infant, adoring and loving yet simultaneously careful and steadily. you’re cooing, calling her a sweet girl and rubbing at her ear, and nanako accepts you rather easily— too easily.
“woah.” was this those non-sexual turn ons people spoke about? for somebody so mean, you were oddly gentle with pets. he liked that— really liked that, so much that he pulls his phone out and snaps a photo of you two. but of course, because the universe loves to see him fumble, the flash goes off.
your head snaps to the side and he freezes. you narrow your eyes at him, slowly lowering nanako, “did you just—”
“so!” geto cuts you off, chucking his phone back onto his desk. it makes a loud cluttering sound, damn near knocks his drink all over, but ignores it, “my turn. what’s your cat’s name?”
“milo. and don’t cut me off—”
“milo the menace,” he cuts you off regardless, not wanting to have to decipher just what exactly possessed him to do that. he’s never done so, and he wasn’t about to explain why he’d done it just now. deflecting king! “i need to see the little guy. got any pics?”
you huff, extending a hand behind you to find your phone. when you clutch onto the device, you swing your legs off the bedside, always careful with nanako clinging to your lap. you lay her down on the floor, much to her dismay, before making your way towards him.
his eyes are stuck on your body before his mind can tell him to stop. not like it mattered much, your own eyes glued to your phone screen as you searched for the pictures he’d asked. you’ve got a matching tracksuit on— though the hoodie is cropped, thus exposing your navel piercing. he’d always had a thing for those, the pretty good jewel dangling below the button.
it didn’t help that your thong straps sat atop your waist.
he spreads his legs further open, and you stop right in between. for a moment, you’re stuck on your phone, and geto really wants to get those thighs straddling him. you look delectable— he’d pin your knees to your damn ears, sprawled on your back, and eat you out until you pleaded him to stop.
your hair was pulled back into a bun, and from this angle, he spotted scripture at the column of your neck. there was wording inked in arabic, and he made a mental note to ask you what it meant later.
geto leans back into his seat when you fold forwards, and he gets a good whiff of your vanilla scented perfume, tingling his senses in the best way, “found it?”
you nod your head, swiping through your gallery, “yeah, my bad,” you have a folder named ‘mimi’ and as expected, was filled off candid photos of your cat. he pays attention as you slide your finger on your screen, selfies of you both in the morning passing by.
“cute,” he isn’t talking about the cat, and his gaze flicks from the screen to your face. there’s still a considerate amount of space between you both, but he can see your eye colour much clearer this close up. you blink your lashes at him and he smirks, “anything else you wanna show me?”
you sniff, “don’t be gross.”
“i meant of milo,” geto definitely didn’t mean of milo. you cock a brow skeptically, and he mirrors the look, though the smile on his face grows, “what a cute lil thing,” his voice lowers and his words trail off. there’s a beat of a pause for a while, and his gaze falls on the plumpness of your lips, “you gonna let me pet your kitty?”
another beat of silence. you’re staring at his lips, and he wonders what you’re thinking. he can tell you’ve picked up on what he’s laying down (hopefully you in the next few minutes) but he can’t tell what your next move will be.
“depends. . .” a soft whisper, and he feels your breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. you flick your eyes back at him, and he finally understands the whole siren eyes shit. through lidded eyes, your stare is intense— simultaneously pulling him in closer while pushing him back. you’re toying with him, and the hand he slides up from your thigh to your ass is enough fuel. “you any good?”
he brings a second hand to the other ass cheek, and urges you onto his lap. you comply, looping your arms at the back of his neck. he feels your nails grazing at his scalp and he holds back a lethal shudder. your weight feels amazing against him— his hard on poking and making its presence well aware.
“i’d like to think i am,” he knows he is, but playing humble always goes a long way. he lets his hands run over the cup of your ass, trails back up to your hips, and slides a finger beneath the thong strap. when he snaps the material at your skin, your back arches and you press your chest against his own.
“well,” you exhale when he noses into the crook of your neck, right above your tattoo. he’s littering wet kisses at your hot skin, your taste ever so sweet against his tongue. god, you must taste divine. at your jugular, he’s able to imprint your perfume into his mind. “only one way to find out.”
geto hums at that, relishing in the way you moan at a particular suck, and focus on nibbling at that spot once more. you’re tilting your head for easier access, hips grinding against his own for better friction. your hands are soft and cautious— they trail from his nape down to his chest, and further down to his waistband.
he’s on go, ready for whatever timing you’re on. though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out by the way your fingertip traces right above his pelvis, that you’re both on the same page. he drags his lips from the column of your neck up to your jaw, and stops right above your parted lips.
he has another cocky remark on the tip of his tongue, in typical suguru fashion, but you beat him to the chase, glossy lips pressing against his. the kiss is short and definitely leaves him wanting more when you pull back as soon as you’d leaned in— but you’re a mere centimetre away.
you whisper, not before another kiss, “don’t disappoint me, suguru.”
and he’s never ran into bed so fast.
☆ ☆ ☆
the door slams shut.
he’s left with a painfully hard reminder in his sweats that he fucked up bad. he thinks he dissociated a little between the labia flapping to the coat zipping. it’s only when he notices that instead of hearing lip smacking sounds, he hears bryson tiller’s lame ass (no shade, his ego is simply wounded), that you really left.
fuck.
geto rushes back to his bedroom, the walk of shame up the steps enough to make him want to jump off— as he takes out his phone, immediately goes through his contact list and presses on the name. it rings twice before the call gets picked up.
“yooo!”
“you still busy?” geto asks, voice hoarse as he flops down on the edge of the bed— his now empty bed. damn.
“nah, just dropped off wifey,” gojo replies. he hears music playing faintly in the back, as well as the sounds of honking. he must still be in the car, “why, what’s up?”
“i fucked up.” geto sighs, running a hand over his face.
“oh?” he isn’t surprised to find out gojo’s surprised. he’s still surprised by how the events turned out and it’s barely been ten minutes, let alone five. “say no more, i’m on my way.”
geto hangs up. he throws the phone away, before falling flat onto his bed. he picks up your scent on his sheets, your warmth slowly disappearing— another painful reminder he messed up. where he’s expecting a wet patch of anything on his duvets, he finds nothing. zip. nada.
his eyes fall shut, “shit.”
☆ ☆ ☆
“and that’s pretty much the gist of it all.”
he exhales a cloud of smoke. more silence. geto’s starting to get sick of all this silence. it was radio silence with you and now even more radio silence from gojo. his hand never stops to rub at nanako, who’s been serving as a cuddling partner in this grand moment of crisis. the only person to ever have his back.
so, geto knew that confiding in his best friend this secret of his would be risky for a multitude of reasons. for starters, geto never fucks up. this would be ultimate blackmail content for him, and geto honestly doesn’t blame him. for two, he was just giving gojo shit about never having eaten pussy. that’s just downright humiliating. and for three, he has a girlfriend who he doesn’t keep anything from. on top of that— his girlfriend is friends with the main culprit here.
overall a bad idea. he does it nonetheless, because satoru is his best friend despite it all. he isn’t too shocked when the silence is filled with bellyaching laughter, though.
“wait— i’m cryinggg,” more laughter. gojo’s now kicked his feet off the couch and is doubling forward. his shades bounce off his head and hit the leg of the coffee table. he doesn’t pause his laughing fit one bit, not even when geto throws a throw pillow his way.
it bounces off his big head and geto scoffs, bringing the joint back to his lips, “oh fuck off.”
“my fault man,” gojo apologizes though he doesn’t sound apologetic. he’s leaning forward to grab his shades back, and he’s back to swiping stray tears. “that was a good laugh— shit.”
geto hums at that, extending the blunt towards him,“glad to hear my misery has brought you entertainment.”
“see, you get it!” gojo jokes, welcoming the joint. seems like he got cocky, however, his laughing mood not quite over as he inhales. he quickly chokes on the smoke, which fades back into cackling, “oh shit—”
geto sneers, annoyance quickly rising, “quit fucking around or pass it back.” he was being pissy, yes, but his pride had been curb stomped. and it hadn’t even been an hour ago!
“nah, nah, i’m good,” gojo waves him off, despite his free hand tapping at his chest. he collects himself soon enough, and takes another hit. this time it’s successful. geto lowkey hoped it would get caught in his throat again.
“sooo,” gojo drags out, melting into the couch, “what now.”
“what now?” geto parrots.
“what’s the next move?” gojo elaborates, fingertip tapping at the blunt, and ashes fall into the tray. the end of the stick crumbles in the same way geto’s ego had earlier. “you’re gonna keep letting her think you suck at giving head?”
geto throws his head back and sighs tiredly, “what else is there to do?” he hears the sound of sizzling in the background, “i fumbled bad, bro. you don’t think she already posted about me in her girls’ private story?” more sizzling and exhaling, “i’m the storytime of the day!”
he feels gojo nudge his thigh with his foot. he looks back and the joint is presented to him. he gladly accepts it.
“what even happened?” gojo wonders. and oh boy, if that isn’t the question of the day. geto is still trying to find the answer to that. had it been out of nervousness? had he gotten too cocky? had it been her?
“i honestly wish i could answer that,” geto slips the roach into his mouth. “i didn’t feel nervous until after i realized she wasn’t fazed,” he drags out a hit and ghost inhales, “maybe it was a sign from above— to shut the fuck up sometimes.”
“maybe,” gojo snorts, throwing his legs over geto’s lap. nanako hisses at the intrusion, but the white haired man ignores her, “don’t let yourself go out sad like this. hit her back up— whatever happened to loving challenges?”
“what kind of fucked up ass challenge is this?” geto mumbles, mainly to himself.
“if i was in your shoes— which i’d never be,” because he’s gojo, he feels the need to add, “i’d put my pride aside and talk to her. like no homo shit, but you’re a great eater— yeah, no, i’m taking that back instantly.”
geto looks as horrified as he feels, “quickly, even.”
of course, gojo laughs but proceeds, “the point is, you know you’re good at it. everybody fucks up once in a while— don’t let it define you though. think of it as a minor setback for a major comeback— if you care enough, you’ll put your pride aside and do something about it. if you’re this down about it, then it must mean something to you.”
geto can’t tell anymore whether gojo’s talking about the failed pussy eating attempt or you. regardless, he knows there’s truth to his words. has to be the weed talking.
“and who made you the pussy connoisseur?” geto snorts, pressing the bud of his joint in the tray. it sizzles weakly as he kills it, starting to feel that high course through his veins.
gojo sighs dreamily, “why my lovely lady, of course.”
“looks like she taught you well,” geto relaxes himself into the tight space of the couch, settling nanako on his chest. it’s now his turn to nudge gojo with his foot, his sock-cladded toe digging at his jaw. “woulda never expected this from a rookie just a few months ago.”
“well duh,” gojo swipes his foot away, “i aced that course. got my phD in cunningulusophy and all. even won valedictorian.”
geto laughs, resting his lids. he was starting to feel sleepy, indica will do that to you, “enroll me in whatever class you took— i may need to slut myself out for extra credit. my prof’s a tough nut to bust.”
“intro to munch 101,” gojo nods his head, shutting his eyes close as well. there’s a comfortable silence that fills the air for a while. and despite the fact that his sight manipulated, he could hear the smirk dripping off his tone, “if you ever need a letter of recommendation, i got you— alumni’s honour.”
“oh fuck off,” a mixed harmony of laughter and vibrating chests.
☆ ☆ ☆
fun fact: suguru geto loves showers.
the aroma of cleanliness enhanced by thick fog. the scorching water droplets trickling down his skin, the vulnerability of his nakedness inside these four walls. he strangely feels most at ease, most raw in this moment of solitude.
he’s able to gather himself too. there isn’t much to accomplish in a shower once you’ve gotten rid of the day’s dirt. so, he likes to take the opportunity to think. to think deep and hard.
his mind’s all scrambled up. it’s been about three days since you were last in his apartment, two days since he’d thought about it, and a day since he last seen you (granted it’d been on your story, virtually, but still).
this has been the biggest feat he’s faced in a while. if he recaps it, this is what’s he gotten: he invited you over. you came the next day. he didn’t cater to you the sole reason you came. you didn’t mind. you both studied for a bit. he asked about your cat. you ended up on his lap. he ended up in bed with you. you ended up leaving with a chunk of his dignity.
that didn’t explain shit, but it did remind him of his failure. it reminded him that he’d finally met his match. it reminded him he needs to start backing his shit up. it reminded him of how good you smelled and tasted down there. it reminded him of how pretty you looked.
his cock twitches and he glances down. it also reminds him he never ended up cumming, too engrossed in his anxiety to jerk one out.
he feels as though the glass doors of his shower protect him from reality. he’s hard, though mortified, but still hard. he’d spent a long time (two days) suppressing the memory away, but there was no way to mistaken your taste on his tongue. how sweet you smelled. how soft you felt—
geto fists at his dick before he can help it. his free hand plants at the wall before him, and he works his wrist. he twists at his shaft slowly and closes his eyes— behind his lids are photographic memories of you on his lap. memories of you on his bed. memories of the scent of your panties. memories of your tits in his mouth.
sure, you’d made more sounds off the foreplay for the foreplay— but that didn’t take away how turned on he’d been. how his dick twitched in his boxers. how he’d humped the mattress. how he’d moan in your cunt.
“y/n,” geto moans your name, sinful yet hushed, his hand working faster. his thumb grazes his over slit and his gut drowns in heat. he wants a redo. he deserves a redo— you deserved a redo. “fuckkkk,”
next time, he’ll get it right. and if he doesn’t, then he’ll want to try again and again and again— until it ends with your cunt clenching around his tongue and his face sprayed vigorously in your essence. until your thighs tremble around his face, your hand clawing at his hair and your back arched off his bed. until his name bounces off his walls and echoes so loudly his neighbours complain.
he wants a redo.
he jerks back as he paints the tiles white. the joints in his hand ache, the water from the shower head getting colder. geto pants heavily, chest heaving as his load is released from him. his cum drips from the wall and into the drain at his feet— but his dick is far from well spent. if he spends another hour in the shower, it’s nobody’s business but his own.
suguru geto loves showers.
☆ ☆ ☆
“oh. you actually showed.”
“redo,” geto pants, having sprinted from his apartment. he’d spent the next three days after his shower incident wallowing some more— at some point, it just annoyed him. though slightly underwhelming, he was on his phone in bed a few minutes ago, going through his camera roll when he’d seen that picture he took of you and nanako. his feet guided him to his car before he could help it. choso helped him out with the address.
“redo?” you parrot his words, leaning against your doorframe. you crossed your arms over your chest, and it’s only then he noticed your appearance— flimsy camisole and pink lace panties. fuck, he wants a redo now.
“i want a redo.” geto repeats, but is quickly hit with a gust of wind. he hadn’t brought a jacket with him in the midst of his impulse, and goosebumps were beginning to form at his skin. he shoots his shot, “you ever planning on letting me in?” talk about deja vu.
“dunno,” you play along, eyes narrowing. “maybe if you ask nicely.”
swallow your pride, he hears gojo somewhere in the back of his mind. he shakes that thought off quickly. this desperation had to be bigger than a pride issue— he was ready to get on his knees and beg her to let him in. pride? that had been drained to the sewers the second he busted all over his shower days ago.
“lemme in and i’ll make it up to you,” geto tries instead, taking a step closer, “please?”
that seemed to be the correct answer as you push open the door to your apartment further. you turn your back and geto lets himself drink up your backside— he hadn’t seen it last time but you had dimples sitting right above your perky ass. he watches your hips sway left and right, and even tilt your head back, a smirk etched on your face, “you comin’?”
you will be, “cute.” his lips twitch into a small smile, and closes the door behind him.
☆ ☆ ☆
fool him once? shame on him.
geto doesn’t allow himself to make the same mistakes twice. if one fuck up is enough to tear him down for a week straight then why the hell would he do it again?
you’re sprawled on your back, legs spread with enough space to fit his body in between. his hands plant on either side of your face, his bulge pushed up against your core. he feels your warmth through these layers of clothes, and he rolls his hips greedily, feeling himself already grow addicted. your chin is raised high, lids blown open as you stare at him all doe-eyed.
his brows pinch in the centre of his forehead. that faux look of innocence you’re offering is doing wonders to his dick. your tits sit beautifully beneath your top, arms back on him as you pull him in closer, and he lets himself fall prey to you. for a moment, the tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips ghosting over the other, hips colliding to meet yours.
“mhm, that’s it.” you let out a sigh, throwing your head back into your pillows. there’s an opening to your neck calling his name, and geto wastes no time to latch his lips there. he slips a hand beneath your tank top, fingernails grazing over your skin to creep up to your mounds. he flicks a thumb over the bud and you sigh blissfully again— he then cups the flesh.
he loves the way you squirm when he kisses down your body, “i got you, pretty,” stripped from your cami, his lips leave open mouthed marks all over your skin. from the column of your neck, to your breasts, down your torso and past your navel, “let me take care of you.” the lower he gets, the more intense your rawness reeks— and it’s a damned good smell.
he lands right above your clothed pelvis, and he inhales sharply. he won’t make the same mistake this time, he can feel it. there’s something lingering in the air, something indescribable— but he’s confident he won’t. because when he skips your cunt in favour to pamper your inner thighs, dragging his wet tongue all over erogenous zones, he spots dampening right where your clit would be.
bingo.
your hand cradles his hair, and the other props your body up by the elbow. he glances up at you, cock throbbing against your mattress. your beauty still renders him speechless— runs his throat dry and makes his tongue feel heavy. he doesn’t want to decipher what this means either, and decides to conclude he’s simply thirsty for you.
“suguru,” you call at him. he blinks and the hand in his hair snakes down his neck, and pushes him deeper. his nose nudges at your throbbing clit, and his tongue peeks out of his mouth to lick at the damp material before he can help it. two fingers hook at your panties and push them to the side, revealing glistening folds. your slick drips between your crack and stains your sheets. he thinks he hears his stomach growl a little.
another swipe of his tongue, this time in contact with the raw you, and a breathless moan rips from you, “don’t disappoint me this time.”
and he feasts.
☆ ☆ ☆
gojo’s woken up to a notification from his phone.
it’s still pretty late— or maybe early, and his pretty girlfriend is miles away in lalaland. she snores softly, cuddling into his side, and gojo’s ready to cuss out whoever dares potentially meddle with his girl’s sleep. he’s starting to get grumpy.
when his phone undergoes face recognition, he lowers the brightness immediately. he swipes through his notification center and notices an attachment sent by geto.
now that peeks his interest. he presses on the message.
suguboo: [1 attachment]
suguboo: passed intro2munch101 with an A+ 🫡
gojo can’t help the laugh that leaves him, though is quickly quieted down when he feels stirring at his side.
“well i’ll be damned.”
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yes, gojo is obsessed with his girlfriend. also 10k words on geto???
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sonicboomseason3 · 9 months ago
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a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:
paramount has come out in public support of israel
keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie
james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile
there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???
kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too
this is a complete and utter joke.
EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]
you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.
i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.
with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.
ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.
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dollopole · 2 months ago
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Let’s take into consideration:
Arthur would rather waste precious time before an important council meeting to run around the entire castle and search for Merlin, who, in his very honest opinion is the worst servant of the entire kingdom or that he had ever known, than to call literally anyone else to help him dress (as if there wouldn’t be anyone ready to assist Arthur, their king, with clothes);
Arthur, and therefore Agravaine (which makes it all the more hilarious) knows every single place where Merlin could be, at that precise moment, or during that day in general; (EDIT: As someone pointed out in the comments, everyone and Agravaine included knows who is the “dollophead”)
The guards nod to Agravaine without asking anything, which only means that it is canon that everyone in Camelot knows Merlin by name; EDIT: It also means that the guards deal with this on a daily basis. They must be tired.
The aforementioned point implies that everyone knows how Merlin looks like, that also means Merlin is known to never leave Arthur’s side, even during council meetings;
Arthur is running around the castle in what today we would call a pyjama, just because Merlin didn’t wake him up with, “Rise and Shine”. And he’s barefoot. That’s right. The king of Camelot, everyone, has just walked barefoot in Merlin’s chambers, in the armoury, where other knights probably are, and in the bloody stables (yes, the ones where the horses and their dungs both are), without boots on, just to look for Merlin;
Arthur is more distressed in this scene than in the one where Morgana declares war in season five. He’s fretting like a mother hen. Not only he is without breath, which means he was just coming back from his checking around, but he is red in the face and almost yelling in desperation. “Does he expect me to dress myself?!” Because apparently, Arthur literally cannot do anything without Merlin by his side. The way he says, “No sign of him” to Agravaine is so endearing, and he shouldn’t be this adorable. Unfair, Arthur. Really unfair.
Arthur just yells, (and distressingly looks around) in hope that Merlin will come back to him, because he always does. *sounds of my heart breaking into millions of pieces*
And last but not least, Arthur shouts, “Last night!”, which means the actual reason he’s going around searching for Merlin, it’s because he’s worried his world will end without his quirky and clumsy servant by his side (and the love of his life). Merlin is currently out on a quest with Gwaine to look for Gaius, since he has been kidnapped, but the problem is that Arthur doesn’t know this. What he knows is that he has fought with Merlin the day before about Gaius in the council chambers, and believes Merlin is gone for good, this time, and solely for the fight they had. Arthur feels more than guilty that he can’t make it up to his best friend, the love of his life (Agravaine helped Morgana kidnap Gaius, and it explains the ending of the scene, where he understands where Merlin is.) Now Arthur is worried that his last words to Merlin were harsh. He had last seen him when he was done with his duties the night before, and then Merlin disappeared.
No wonder they deleted this scene.
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bimbosandbubbles · 1 year ago
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Truth or Dare?
Starring Bully Gojo and Geto
Synopsis- It’s freshmen year of college and for Gojo and Geto the year has been a little too boring—sure it’s only the first semester but c’mon it’s their first year being university students so why not make the year unforgettable? And for that reason they find themselves playing a dangerous game of truth or dare with their friends—a game that led them to YOU,their best form of oh so interesting entertainment.
Warning’s-noncon,dubcon,spitting,hair pulling,slapping,slight fingering,misogynistic behavior,filming noncon, double penetration,extreme humiliation,pussy eating,heavy degrading, creampie,breeding kink, multiple sexual scenes(not really sex happening),stalking,yandere,obsessive behaviors,thigh fucking, fatphobia,abuse of power(Gojo’s money and Geto’s connections),pussy slapping,emotional manipulation,blackmail,shoe licking,shoe fucking,extremely humiliating acts ,hairy pussy,stalking,rimming,loss of virginity,EXTREMELY SADISTIC BEHAVIOR!! TW THIS IS ALL FICTION! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ CHUBBY READER!
Wc-7.8k(Guys I cut off 6k more words to shorten the fic😭)
“Truth or dare?”
A white haired man turns to a man with long raven black hair,"What do you think Sugu'? Truth or dare?"
The male hums in thought,"I think truth,after all it's only the beginning of the game." Snow like hair bobs in acknowledgment,"Okay,we pick truth."
A wide smirk grows on the integrators face,"How many bitches have you fucked together?" Geto chuckles,"Do you always have to be so uncouth Naoya?" The said man shrugs,"That doesn't matter,just answer the fuckin question."
Geto decides to humor the man,for his and his best friends entertainment mostly. "Gojo how many would you say?" Gojo sighs—lazily leaning his lanky yet muscled frame against the back of a beat up couch. "Since we get here...uhhh probably like four. In high school probably like six."
"You've ever filmed any of em?" Naoya asks. Geto raises a neatly done brow up,"Why are you asking?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"I'm just askin there's no real reason behind it."  Gojo looks at Geto from the side of his eye,"Sugu' it's not that big of a deal to answer. Plus it's not like we have filmed any of them."
"I guess." Mutters Geto. Gojo loudly claps his hands and paints on a goofy smile onto his face. "Anyways...Naoya truth or dare?" The man sits back in wonder before answering,"Dare."
"Okay! I dare you to call the one girl in your phone that you'd have to be paid like a million dollars to ever fuck anddddd you have to ask her to send a pic of herself." Naoya voices annoyedly,"How the hell do I get her to send a pic of herself?"
Geto smartly suggests,"Lie.Make something up." The man with highlighted hair smirks,"That shouldn't be hard. She's a dumb bitch anyways."
Naoya scrolls through his contacts list and spots a contact dubbed "Piggy." Geto and Gojo lean over his shoulders to see the view and both of them wince once seeing the name. "She's fat?" Gojo asks. Naoya snickers,"Oh fuck yeah! She's fucking big as hell! I could never stick my dick in her."
Gojo chuckles,"I couldn't fuck a fat girl,seems like too much work." Geto adds on,"Yeah they're not really my type either....there's just too much everywhere for me." Naoya agrees as he presses on the contact,"They're all usually fucking ugly anyways. So it doesn't really matter."
Noaya's fingers press on the call symbol while he lets out one final chuckle. He presses one finger to his lips,signaling the pair of friends to shut up.  The man finally calls and the phone rings three times before it finally picks up.Naoya makes sure to put the phone on speaker. "Hello?" A sleepy voice calls out. "Hello (Reader)."
"Naoya what're you calling me so late for? I thought we finished everything for the project?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"Yeah well our introduction project isn't finished yet,I still need you to do something." Geto and Gojo don't miss the biting tone he speaks to you in. "Oh um well..I'm sorry I didn't think I missed anything."
"She sounds cute." Gojo whispers in the ravenettes ear. "Mmm." Geto hums in agreement.  "Yeah you should be sorry. But luckily for you  I'm nice so I'll allow you to still do it."
"Thank you? But anyways what do you need me to do?" Naoya smiles while looking back at the men," I need a picture of you." For a moment there's static silence—a silence that's riddled with confusion. "Umm why do you need a picture of me? Our project has nothing to do with ourselves."
"It's to prove our teamwork to the professor uhh how well we got along and shit like that." It's quiet until Naoya receives a dinging notification. "There you go,bye." The phone loudly hangs up while Naoya's jaw clenches in anger. "Fucking bitch hung up before I could."
"That doesn't matter show us the pic." Gojo says impatiently. "Fineee." The male opens up his messages and soon as he does he snickers. "I don't know why she tried to send me cute a one,she looks fucking stupid." Wrong. Naoya was so fucking wrong.
You don't look fucking stupid...you look so fucking cute. Your have such a pretty face—a face that needs to be came on. Those adorable fucking pudgy cheeks are just begging to be decorated with cum. And fuck those pretty lips you got—both Geto and Gojo just wanted to stick their dicks in your mouth.
They can't even see your body in the picture but they just know it's so fuckable. What do you have a cute pudge hanging down—a pouch of flesh keeping your pussy warm? Do you have warm doughy thighs that their fingers will just sink into the moment they touch the flesh? You just look so...soft. So wonderfully soft—plenty of soft sweet palpable skin just begging to be marked by them.
But despite Gojo's and Geto's shared thoughts—the lustful and wanton thoughts they wouldn't say that they want to fuck the ever living life out of you. They wouldn't disagree with Naoya saying you look fucking stupid. They wouldn't even admit they think you're attractive. Why? Because admitting a mere few minutes ago that you wouldn't fuck a fat girl and then switching up isn't the best look.
So what do the pair say when Naoya says that? Do they disagree and defend you? Do they admit the pure desire they have to want to be inside you? No they say," You're right she looks weird,let's just move onto the next round."
━━━━
"I didn't just leave her on the frats lawn! I at least gave her some cash to get herself home." Naoya proudly states.
"Wow,Noaya thank you so much for not being the worlds biggest douche." Geto states sarcastically.
"Whatever, don't act like you two aren't assholes yourselves. You may fool a bunch of bitches but I know how you really are."  Geto peers at Gojo,the man beside him. They both give each other a knowing look—a shared thought surging through the kept gaze. A gaze that screamed,"We're aware of what dicks we can be." Huge dicks who have left girls high and dry after telling them they love them—spewing lies straight from hell just to get their cocks wet a few times.
But are they really dicks if no one really cares to point out they are? Are they really assholes when women flock towards them even though it's known they'll only use them like a human fleshlight? They could thank their good looks,popularity,and Gojo's plentiful wealth for never being confronted for just how cruel they could really be.
Geto smirks,"I guess you could say we are assholes but at least we appear to be nice ones." Gojo hums,"Mhm but anyways it's your turn to ask us."
Naoya sits there,clutching his face in devious thought. "If you guys pick dare,you won't pussy out with anything I say,right?"
"Nah as long as it's nothing too illegal." Gojo answers. "Good cause I got something in mind. Truth or Dare?" The two best friends stare at each other once more,silently agreeing on an answer,"Dare."
Naoya laughs,acting like he just had the best idea in the whole world. "You fuckers set yourself up. This is going to be sooo funny." Gojo rolls his eyes,"Yeah,yeah,just get to the damn dare."
"I dare you to fuck with little miss piggy for me." Naoya cruelly states. "That girl you just showed us?" Gojo asks."  The question had a little too much enthusiasm,too much excitement for some girl he said looked weird. Hopefully it went unnoticed by Naoya though. "Yes that bitch."
"We'll do it but lemme ask why you wanna bother her?" Geto questions. The male shrugs,"Do I need a reason? She's annoying." Geto hums,"Alright I guess that's a good enough answer. But what's on the table for fucking with her?" The white haired male perks up at that,"Ooo yeah? How much can we bother her?"
"I don't really give a shit about what you do to her. Just ruin her,make her miserable. The only thing I want is some evidence that you're doing at least something." 
Make her miserable,huh? Ruin her? Does that include every part of you? Because Geto and Gojo had something wonderful in mind...just for lil ole you.
"Oh yeah,we can definitely do that." They both remark.
━━━━
"Okay,I think this is the last book I need." You whisper to yourself. See,today is a good day! Why? Because this is the day you're almost done researching for a extremely tedious paper. That means for just a few days you wouldn't have to shove countless information down your throat anymore.
So naturally your chubby hands reaches to grab the book that's placed on the fourth shelf. Just as your finger grazed the spine of the book a tall figure grabs it from behind you. Quickly you turn and see a raven haired man,staring at the book with faux interest.
"Umm, I'm sorry I was gonna grab that...it's really important that I have it." You say politely. The male raises a thin brow,"Is it not important for me too? I might need it even more than you do." Immediately you feel yourself heat up from embarrassment," Oh no no!  I didn't mean it like that—I just really really need that book. Im so sorry if I came off uncaring."
Cute. Geto's just starting the fun with you and he already wants to stuff his dick in your mouth. You don't even need to worry about some dumb book,you could just warm his cock all day. Besides the way your dressed right now it's like you want him to tear your clothes off and fuck you. Those denim shorts that are showing off those thick thighs and that damn thin white tank top you got on really shows a lot he wants to see. The pudge of your tummy just clings to the fabric so deliciously—it's tempting so tempting for the man to just reach out and grip the pudge but he resists the urge.
But still despite how cute he finds you,he still needs to make your little life unbearable. So he says,"Well I need this book more." With that he "kindly" smiles and walks off. He leaves you there,mouth agape and eyes wide. Did he really just—DID HE JUST TAKE THE BOOK?
Angrily you call out,"Hey! I need that book." The man continues walking,ignoring you completely. With a mission you charge after the male,keeping his speedy pace until you bump right into someone. Broken from the determined haze you were just in you look and see the person you slammed into.
It's odd,you swear no one was in front of you before and then suddenly someone just came in front of you. No matter how weird it really is though,apologizing and catching up with the book thief is more important.
"Omg I'm so sorry! Are you okay! I was just in a rush—" The very tall man you just bumped into places a long finger on your lips. The sheer boldness of the action instantly shutting you up. "I don't wanna hear it. Ya know,you should definitely be more careful. People are not as nice as me."
He leans down,shortening his noticeable height ,"But since I'm sooo nice all I'm gonna ask if you to beg on your knees for my forgiveness." The hell? Who does this guys think he is? The president? You weren't gonna beg for forgiveness just for bumping into someone?! Hell no!
" Look I'm sorry, but I'm not doing all that just for bumping into you! Don't you hear how fucking crazy you sound?" You snatch his finger away from your lips and cross your arms angrily. He chuckles,"Oh so you wanna act all tough? Fine,I didn't wanna threaten you this early,that was gonna be some fun for later but since you're a lil stubborn I guess the hard way is for you."
Your brows pinch together in frustration and confusion. Who is this guy? Acting like he's all high and mighty? Can he even threaten you when he doesn't know you? Yeah,right. You're sick of this already.
You attempt to move past the male,too sick and tired of precious time being taken away from you. But you're stopped by a veiny large hand that's securely wrapped your wrist. He yanks you to his chest,"Ya know,it's not very nice to walk away while someone's talking to you.I thought you were a polite girl." His warm breath travels all the way to the back of your neck. It's oddly...intimate and sexual for someone you just encountered.
"Be a good girl and beg or else I'll get you out of this university so fucking fast and then I'll tell someone in every single university in the radius you're a fucking cheat. I can go even farther than that if that doesn't scare you enough." He mutters. Chills run across your spine—it's scary,the threat,it holds so much weight but no way some guy you just bumped into has the power to do that,right?
"Y-You can't do that!" The exclamation is a unsteady one,you yourself not even believing that. For some reason this stranger just oozes so much effortless authority—so much power that's unexplainable. It's confusing but still it instills some type of fear in you. "Oh can't I?" His tone is cocky—assured fully in just what exactly he's capable of. Scary—it's scary how confident he's in ruining your educational career.
"Are you taking me a little serious now,hmm? Do you think you should take my good grace and get on your knees already?" It's no big deal,right? If you just get on your knees now,you'd probably never see the man again. This university is big and no way the man would make an attempt to find you—a complete stranger.
Would a little humiliation be so bad if you never see him again? "Are you? Or are you gonna just stand there like an idiot?" Nervously you gulp before facing the man and sinking down to your knees. As you level yourself at his feet you can't help but stare at the rich brown leather that his shoes are made of.
You look up at him and instantly Gojo's glad he chose to his dark sunglasses today. He could feel his pupil dilate as soon so you kneeled for him. Everything about you looked sooo good on your knees—those pretty lips parted slightly because of nerves—your thick thighs squishing together and fuck those gorgeous tits that are just peeking out of your tank top,just begging to be fondled with his big hands.
"Are you gonna start begging or do I gotta force your mouth to move too?" You shake your head no and gulp down a lot of pride and self respect. "Please uhhh—" you pause to search for the man's name. "Gojo. It's Gojo."
"Gojo,please forgive me. It was a mistake and I'm so so sorry." You think your apology is good enough but what you think isn't always right. The man scoffs as a big hand completely palms the whole crown of your head—pushing your body to bend straight down. The tip of your nose kisses the carpeted floor of the library.
" Ah,ah, You're supposed to lean all the way down like a good girl,yeah? Now do it again." Your clammy and stubby hands angrily and tearfully grip the fine hair of the carpet. This is just so...humiliating it hurts every ounce of self respect you have contained in your body.
"Gojo,please forgive me. I'm so sorry." He hums and places his large hand on your head,"I forgive you...for now." With that the man removes his hand and quickly announces his exit. "Thank you for the apology,don't be so clumsy next time."
You watch as his long limber legs make their way farther and farther away from you. Your nose still kisses the carpet—a reminder of the humiliation that was just acted on by the man casually strolling away. The humiliation being so damn demeaning you no longe care for retrieving your much needed book back.
But it would be okay,right? It would be okay cause you'll never see Gojo again. You haven't seen him before and you won't see him again.
You could just move on from this right? Is the thought you have as your eye stay trained on his brown leather shoes.
━━━━
Have you ever been more more wrong before? So irritatingly wrong?
Because both the mysterious man who unfortunately learned is Geto, and Gojo from the library have not left you alone since.
Everywhere you go there they are! Always calling you mean names,like slut or whore. Always taking away your stuff away from you. Always threatening you. And worse—always finding you.
And that is the exact reason why you're stuck between the two—pushed against a random wall in a hallway. "You wanna runaway from me and Geto,some more? Huh,(Reader)?"
You shake your head rapidly and squeak as Gojo's large hand reaches out and grips your tucked pudge that's hidden well within the high waisted material. "D-Don't grip me like that!" You squeak. "Like what? Like a slut? Cause you are a little slut." Gojo remarks.
"I'm not a slut!" Your words are met with chuckles,true genuine laughter for something that wasn't even a joke. "Mmm then why are you always with those lil dorks after hours? You prolly let them cum in you. You prolly let them spit in your pussy and mouth,don't you slut?"
You start to tear up and resist Gojo's grip but it only gets tighter. "Maybe you wouldn't see me hanging out with my friends if you guys weren't always stalking me! Just leave me alone! You don't even know me! I've never even done anything to you!"
"You think we're stalking you? You think we're genuinely interested in someone like you?" Geto chuckles. "Yeah,we know you're a little slow but to think that is on another level of delusion."  Gojo adds. Liars,the both of them know that they're watching you. Keeping tabs on every single move you make,every person you talk to,every time you go out,anything—just so they know when to strike. They told themselves it's not cause they like what they do to—they don't like seeing you beg and plead,they don't like humiliating to the brink of tears—absolutely not. Liars.
"Oh and you've never done anything to us? Hmm,I can remember you fighting for that book pretty hard. I think you may have pushed me,right Gojo? You saw her push me?" Gojo hums,"Hmmm,yeah I swear I saw her. She was so mean to you. And not to mention she didn't even wanna apologize to me for rudely bumping into me."
"What the fuck??! I didn't even push him! I know for a fact I didn't! And last time I checked you just randomly popped up and bumped into me!" You make sure to face backwards and points towards Gojo. "Ah,Ah she's got a little potty mouth,doesn't she Gojo?"
"Mhm,that's not very ladylike (Reader)." Gojo says. "We can't have that,can we?" Behind you the white haired male shakes his head. Gojo's lengthy fingers dig into your tummy even more,sinking the dull tips of his nails deeper.
"You should learn not to talk like that but don't worry Gojo and I will help you learn,m'kay?" How? How—can someone look so kind,so calm while plotting to do something humiliating to you? It doesn't' matter how or why because Geto is still standing over you—kind smile and welcoming eyes gently intimidating you.
"So,open your mouth like a good girl for me and say ahh!" Geto demands. You shake your head no and quickly tuck your lips together. He tuts—disapproving of your stubbornness. "You wanna make it hard for yourself—Fine be that way then. But you will open your mouth for me."
Geto's relative distance to you shortens as he walks closer and closer to you—pushing your body against Gojo's even more. "Gojo pull up her shirt."
"No—NO! D-Don't!" You thrash against Gojo but once more he tightens his grip on your pudge. "You should've listen to Sugu the first time." Gojo mutters as he lifts up your shirt revealing a pastel pink bra. The glasses adorning man whistles,"Is that lace? Who are you wearing that for? Hmm? Is it for me and Sugu,little slut?"
"N-No!" You whimper. "Oh so it's for somebody else?" Geto asks. "No." You reply back. "Mmm so you're wearing something"—Geto's large hand reaches to pinch the strap of the bra—"this pretty just for no one to see it? I don't believe that."
"I think just for her lying you should give her double punishment." Gojo encourages. "Yeah? I think so too. Lil slut won't learn if we aren't a little hard on her."
"Gojo make her open her mouth." Geto says as if they share the same brain—having the same thoughts riddling their in synced minds. Long fingers trace their way down your tummy,teasing the beginning of where your high waisted pants start until finally a loud gasp collapses off your tongue when they're pulled down—revealing the smooth fat that rests on your middle.
You think he's gonna start groping your boobs but instead the pale hands begin gripping your tummy—kneading the skin oh so well that his fingers mush into it. "Oh!" You gasp. And it's cute ,so cute that Gojo's dicks throbs in his loose fitting jeans. Would you make that noise when he puts it inside you? When he makes you swallow his spit? How about when he makes you hump his big thigh while in public?
Gojo's taken away from his thoughts once he hears Geto's familiar voice. "Mmm you got her to open her mouth." Geto hums in approval,"Look at how good her mouth looks open. I think she really is a little slut."
The black haired man pulls your cheeks apart and sticks his middle appendage in your mouth—your tongue crashing against the skin like a giant wave. "Mhmpp!" You move against Gojo once more,droplets of salty tears starting to pour out of you. "Shhh don't fight...take your punishment."
You watch in horror as Geto puckers his lips and translucent liquid drips down his lips—realizing that his lips start getting closer and closer to you.
Until finally you feel wet—degrading liquid coat your lax tongue. The cool saliva coats your mouth,traveling the whole expanse of your open cavern.
"Swallow." You know it's not a question or even a pushy request—it's a command. A reminder that you're under their thumbs like a mouse who's constantly running away from a cat. It's sickening so sickening—so beneath you to be treated like an object yet you find yourself swallowing your pride and gulping down the spit.
"Good whore." Geto mutters. His long finger pops against your inner cheek as he takes it out of your mouth. He pats your chubby cheek and wipes your saliva on your half exposed chest.
"Mmm this kinda bored me." Gojo remarks. Geto hums and backs away from you,"Yeah this pig is kinda not entertaining me anymore. Wanna get something to eat?"  The tall man that was positioned behind you snakes his to way over to  Geto.
Leaving you to watch as they casually saunter off but Gojo suddenly stops his big strides. "Oh and (Reader),"his tones lowers a bit—scarily so,"don't let us see you hanging out with those guys again. Or we'll actually do something to you."
You stand there in shock—shirt ridden up to your chest and pants flashing bits of your panties. Gojo smiles at you,but it's not a pleasant one—a smile that makes you want to run and hide. They both continue walking and you watch,counting and waiting the steps to see if they're far enough so you can quietly sob.
The moment they get far enough you slide down the cool wall and break out in a array of tears. All you can think is why you? What'd you ever do to anyone to have your life be meddled with so cruelly?
WHY YOU?
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"I regret not taking pics." The white haired man pouts. Geto chuckles," There's always next time."
"But she only looked like that awhile ago. Her bra looked so pretty that day. I wished I filmed her swallowing your spit. She looked so fucking cute Sugu...I just wanna stick my dick in her mouth. I wanna make her embarrassed like that again,so fucking bad."
The male smiles amusedly at his friends whines,however he feels the same,he wishes to see you like that all over again. "I think we should  give her a visit soon. We haven't seen her in like what two weeks?" Geto and Gojo knows that's not true,they have seen you actually but you haven't seen them. They always check up on you at certain points during the day—making sure you're listening to them about the people you're hanging out and it makes them so damn proud when they see you alone and avoiding all your male friends. You're such a obedient girl.
"Oh thank God! This time I actually wanna do something with her,I've been thinking about what she feels like. And I want you to film it. "
Gojo says enthusiastically. "What do you have in mind?" The bright blue eyed man smiles widely,"You'll see."
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"(Reader) are you sure you don't wanna come and watch a movie with us?" The kind voice halts your motions of packing up for the day.
"Nah,I'm sure. I'm gonna catch up on homework so I need the extra time." You explain with a smile. "Alright,but text me if you change your mind. The movie doesn't start for a few more hours."
You nod and wave as your kind classmate walks out the door. You're about done packing up until your trusty mechanical pencil begins rolling down the rows and isles of the seats.
"Dang it." You sigh and annoyedly crouch down—following the pencils straight arrow path. You take tiny steps in order for your bigger body to keep up with the quick pace of the rolling writing device.
Finally it stops at the third row—leaning against the leg of a mahogany chair. You bend down to get it with a smile etched on your face but as you reach to grab it a hauntingly familiar brown leather shoe is planted in front of you.
Suddenly you forget to breath—fear and anxiety grasping the natural function away from you. That same fear making you incapable of looking up to see intimidating bright blue irises.
It's quiet—too quiet and that's what makes it worse for you. You feel like prey—being teased,chased,stalked on, by two superior animals who are waiting to take the final kill.
"Do you wanna stay there on your knees for me or are you gonna greet me?" Jolly is the only way you can describe Gojo's voice—which makes his words only 10x times worse to hear. Ever since you encountered him in the library and attempted to forget him all you got was all too much of him. After the incident you've constantly been hearing about the "Great Gojo", the impossibly handsome trust fund baby of the university. The Gojo who's cute and loud and funny—it makes you wish you knew him due to different circumstances so you could admire him just like everyone else.
No,you had to remind yourself that this isn't the case. Instead you'd get bullied and assaulted by him and his friend Geto.
"Hello?? Is anyone there?" Gojo bends down and prods at your forehead,roughly poking it. "Do you think she heard me Sugu?" Gojo asks. "I dunno let's see." Geto's large hand suddenly rushes to your face and grips the warm flesh together. Both of the handsome men sneer at you and condescendingly share a glance with one another.
"I think someone is home but they're too shy to answer."  Geto peers down at you before he whispers,"Shhh it's okay,me and Toru just missed you so much. We just need you to be good for us,m'kay?"  You look up at him with wonder—confused by the oh so sweet tone of his voice. It almost makes you feel safe and cared for—almost is the keyword here. Because in only a few seconds your hair is suddenly yanked,having long fingers tangled in it. "I expect an answer when I say anything to you." Geto grunts into your ear.
"Y-Yes!" You whimper out. A warm wet kiss is placed on your chubby cheek as the black hair
man praisingly remarks,"Good job!" 
"Since you're gonna be for good for Gojo and me I want you to do something, okay?" You nod and mumble a fearful okay. "Good,now take off your panties and give them to Gojo."
You gulp down a wad of spit as you nervously and shamefully stand up and start quickly sliding off your panties. By the time you get the plain white cotton undies to your ankles Gojo's expectant hand is waiting for you—and like he was expecting you hand the worn material to him.
He places the pair of panties into his pocket and grins at you happily.  
Geto's voice rings out,"Now get on his shoe." Snapped out of your fearful daze you yell,"WHAT? I'm not doing that! That's so gross and unsanitary." Gojo pouts,"What's wrong with my shoe? It's not good enough for you?"
"No! That's so gross! No way in hell am I doing that!" You attempt to stand up right and walk away from the pair but a large hand pushes you back down. The force of the body part making you whimper by the sheer power. "Nu uh Geto already filmed you taking off your panties for me. If you walk away we'll have no choice but to show everyone at this university what a dirty slut you are. How would you like that,hmm?"
You mouth flaps open in shock,since when did Geto have a chance to do that?? When did he even take out his phone? You turn and there you see the cellular device pointed right at you. You thought you were screwed then but now...they actually have something way worse to use against you.
Gojo smiles at your realization," So now are you gonna put that pussy on my shoe?" You look up at him and defeatedly turn to still see that Geto's filming and you simply just give in.
You waddle closer to Gojo's foot and set your bare pussy on the rich material—the thick pubes on your mound making contact with the shoe. You can't help but gasp by how cool it feels,it feels new,almost good.
"Move." Gojo says. You look up at the man and gasp once you see and hear how different he looks. His voice sounds less high—lacking the usual teasing and playful tone he talks in. And his eyes—his normally bright blue eyes are now toned down,muddled with dark lust and eagerness.
Your clit bumps and grinds on the expensive laces as you try to set a pace on your own. You huff and whine at the oddly good sensation.
You lean your face on Gojo's pants,slightly biting into the material to hush down your pleasured noises. It feels good because it's so degrading and so wrong—yet you can't deny how wet begin to you feel the more you thrust against the man.
"Mmmf!" Is the noise you're making as you hide your face into his legs,teary eyes closed in hated bliss and ashamed mouth taut open in pleasure. How disgusting you are—enjoying fully how good this is making you feel. You're riding a man's shoe for gods sake, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. Not when your poor hole is opening and closing for nothing. Not when you you can feel four eyes staring at you get yourself off.
"Look at you,such a fat slut. And you tried to act like you didn't want me and Sugu's attention. Dirty slut." You hear a wet noise of Gojo's mouth right before warm hot spit lands on your forehead. You go to wipe it away but Geto's hand grips your wrist,"Don't,you'll ruin your pretty face. Leave it."
You nod and silently gasp once you see the angry bulges of the two men. It makes you even wetter once you see how aroused this made them. Geto seems to noticed your focus gaze,"Aww do you wanna actually see some dicks in real life? Hmm,is that what you want whore?"
Your mouth almost forms the word yes until you remember these men aren't some friends with benefits or boyfriends—no they're bullies who enjoy seeing you struggle. So with that reminder you shake your head no and go to hide your face in Gojo's leg only to feel a hot sting run across your plump cheek. "Liar. Gojo get her off your foot. I'm gonna show her something."
"Aww but I was enjoying watching her! At least let her clean the mess up." Geto rolls his eyes,"Alright,make it quick." Gojo smiles happily before he peers down on you,"Lick." He's not specific because you already know what he wants you to place your tongue on. You stare down where you placed your cunt at and feel grossed out. However,you know one way or another you're going to have to lick his shoe. And you'd rather not get another burning slap from Geto.
So you prod your tongue out,lapping at your own juices placed on the man's costly shoe.
You taste yourself and the taste of oddly wood like leather. It taints your palate,making you scrunch your face in distain as you finish the task. You look up at Gojo and he seems so enthralled—his chest is heaving and his pink lips are slightly agape in surprise? You can't tell but he just looks so fascinated by you. "Wow,you really are a slut." He breathlessly chuckles.
"Mmm,she really is. Anyway take her to the desk Gojo,make sure she's bent over."  Without warning Gojo pulls you by your underarms and walks you to the desk. He pushes you down onto it,his hand presses down on your roll adorned back to keep your stomach flat against the desk. You feel him move from behind you,changing his position to be in front of you.
Suddenly you feel a warm hand graze against your dimpled ass—long fingers sinking into the supple flesh. "Now since you wanna lie and act like a fucking prude Imma make you see how badly you want our dicks."
For a few seconds you're left waiting to see what happens. It's suspenseful so suspenseful that you're even staring at Gojo in anticipated wonder. THACK! Is all Gojo hears along with a pained cry.Hot tingles flows though out your pussy—burning sensation fleeting in the wet organ.
"That's what happens when you're not being honest. Your lil pussy gets punished. If you want it stop I just need you to be honest with me. Say you want our dicks inside you."
Your bottom lip trembles pathetically,"I want your dicks inside me." Another harsh slap rains down on your cunt. "Again! You're not saying it like you mean it." This time you force your voice to be louder,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto leans forward until his warm breath can be felt on your face and his big hand yanks your head back. "Now look at the camera and say you want our dicks inside you."
You defeatedly look up at the iPhone camera held in Gojo's large hands,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto let's go of your hair and stands straight,"Good cause we're gonna give it to you." Two hands spread your thighs open and something large and veiny fills the empty space between them. "But you don't deserve any dicks inside you yet. You should've been honest the first time."
Geto grabs your supple waist and grips your tummy from below—with a snap of his hips he's brushing his cock against your inner thighs. Each thrust his rough and fast paced,forcing your head to bob up and down the desk. The graze of his dick against your throbbing clit pulls occasional whimpers and whines from your lips.
On the other side of desk Gojo unbuttons his pants—pale fingers rubbing against the expanse of his tight briefs. "Touch it." Gojo demands. You look up at him as you reach and feel the constant pulse of his cock. It's warm,so warm that the heat is comforting to your whole body in the cool lecture room.
You cup the thick shape protruding from the pure white material and start moving up and down. Gojo pushes himself into your hand—his once opened eyes closed in pleasure. The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock."S-Shit pull em down." The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock.You obey the pleading man,gripping the beginning of his underwear until his oozing cock is revealed.
A gasp falls from your lips at the sheer beauty of it. You stare points blank at his pre cum ridden tip that's oh so rosy. Your thumb finger graces the slit—going up and down on it,feeling his dick get harder and harder. Though, before you can really get a good grip on it one hard thrust from Geto pulls you away from him.
"Aww Sugu...you messed her up." Gojo whines. "Calm down you can use another part of her in a little bit. Switch spots with me." Gojo huffs but obeys Geto. The white haired places his still filming phone onto the desk. The ravenette ends up in front of you,his girthy dick resting on the desk right next to your face. "Have you sucked dick before you?" Geto asks. "N-No." You quietly reply.
"Mmm,of course you haven't. What loser would wanna get sucked off by you?" Liar. Geto's been dreaming of having those pretty lips surround his cock—of slapping your face and cradling those chubby cheeks you have on you. Choking you with his dick while you're all teary eyed and begging for air. But he doesn't hate you,no not at all,this was just a dare that he's happening to be enjoying.
So since it's your first he's gonna go easy on you. "Wait does that mean you've never been fucked before?" Gojo says excitedly. "Mhm." The confirmation makes Gojo's and Geto's dick jump. This is great! No one's been inside before so that really means you're really all theirs,their personal fuck toy who's only been fucked by them. After months of planning how they're gonna pop up into your life and destroy what you've known before,they're finally getting award.
"But that means I gotta stretch you out first,huh?" Gojo dejectedly says.  "I know just the way." Gojo sinks down go to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him. You feel cool air fan your warm pussy.  Lanky fingers spread your lips apart,pulling the coarse pubes away from the another. The sheer slick of your pussy laying and slicking them down to the mound.
"You surprisingly have a real pretty pussy. It's perfect for taking dick. Too bad no one else is really gonna want it." Untrue,Gojo really wants it. He's been wanting it since Naoya showed that picture to him. He's been craving the feeling of sinking into you and fulling you up. Craving to grip your round tummy as he pounds into you,drilling every single last sperm into you.
A long wet tongue licks the expanse of it,the sensation draining a surprised whine from you. "Mmm, while he warms you up Imma give you a lesson on how to suck." Geto leans down so his face his leveled with yours. He grabs Gojo's phone and points it towards him and you. He points out his index and pointer finger,pressing the digits against your lips. "What I want you to do is ease these into your mouth,okay?"
You nod and your mouth drops open as you feel Gojo's long tongue dig into your cunt. "Mmmf!" You whine.  You attempt to only take the tips of Geto's fingers but you rush them into your mouth as you feel more pleasure. Geto roughly taps your face,"I said ease,don't take it all in." You look up at him and just suck on the tips of his fingers. "Good girl,like that until I say so."
Gojo releases his tongue from your hole,instead prodding into your entrance with his fingers. He slips one in and then two,slowly scissoring you open with each curl of his fingers. Geto pushes more of his fingers into your mouth,almost reaching the back of your throat. You gag and attempt to move away from him only to have your head held in place. "Stay. Breath through your nose."
Taking his advice,you hurriedly stable your breathing. Your eyes bubble with tears and your face contorts in uncomfortableness.  Finally you're full of relief once Geto slides his fingers out of your mouth. "Good. I think you're ready for the real thing now,huh?"
"Y-Yes." Geto smiles,"Good slut,you learn so fast. You're meant to be a whore for us." Gojo pulls his fingers from your entrance. Geto faces the camera directly on you,"Are you ready to be fucked?" You look up at the camera—flashes of all the treatment you've endure from these two,constant examples of cruelty for no reason course through your memory's, yet you want so badly to mutter the words yes please.  You want to be fucked by them,want to know what it's like to have someone inside you.
"Please." Pathetic,weak but you don't care. You've given in one last time and your decision is rewarded with a almost loving kiss from Geto.  Gojo practically mounts you as he rests his muscular chest on you,he plants a kiss on the back of your neck that could be seen as a sweet praise or an apology for what he does next.
Without a single warning Gojo sheaths himself in you. You scream and writhe against the wooden desk but Gojo grips your violent body. "It's okay,just take it. Take it."
"I think it's my turn now." Geto looks down at you right before he plunges his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to process what's even happening. All you can do it feel. Feel the slowly pleasurable feeling inside your pussy and feel Geto's thick dick go in and out of your mouth.
The more you begin to feel the better all the overstimulation is. Suddenly Gojo's downright stretch feels so fucking wonderful as thrusts in you. Geto grips onto your hair,guiding your face to go deeper on his dick. "F-Fuck,good slut. Good whore. Imma cum if you keep letting me fuck your face like this."
Minute after minute,you can't catch a break. Not when Gojo's snaps his hips into you like a animal. Like he's so desperate to stay in you—drowned in the utter wet and warmness you offer him. "Good girl,good girl! This pussy feels good! So good!" The blue eyed man babbles.
You feel your oxygen slowly leave you and you roughly tap on Geto’s legs. He frees himself of your mouth and instead busies himself with slapping his heavy cock onto your face as you catch your breath. You can’t even do that though because Gojo reaches from under you and rubs your clit with a passion.
Moan upon moan leaves your mouth,like a broken record playing over and over again. Your song is becomes muffled once Geto finds his cock in your slack mouth. You quiver underneath Gojo as you feel a hot feeling tingle with in you.
You were gonna cum,so soon. With three snaps of Gojo hips you come undone and you begin to lose feeling everywhere. You feel like a lifeless fuckdoll,just a cocksleeve for Gojo and Geto’s dicks.
Gojo feels you cum and groans,”Shitttt I’m close.” Although Geto doesn’t agree verbally his thrusts in your mouth become more hurried and desperate. In and out is all you can feel.
It feels like hours of tortuous pleasure. A sick sadistic game being toiled onto your body. But it ends once hot,warm fluid courses in your walls. “Mmmmmm!” Is all the men can hear from you. Gojo pulls out and Geto pulls one last thrust into your mouth before he cums all the way down into your throat.
He grips his dick and slides it out. You hurry to swallow his seed and almost choke due to the quickness.
It’s quiet throughout the big classroom,only heavy breathing being heard. Geto looks down at you having Gojo’s phone in hand and travels the entirety of your body. He finally tosses it to him and the man catches it quietly.
Geto bends down so he’s once again on your level,”I’m telling you this now and I want you to know I mean it. You,your body,everything that makes you a person belongs to us.” Each word is said with such powerful emphasis that all you can do is silently agree.
An agreement that leads you down a interesting path with the pair.
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From a game of truth and dare,to bullying,to becoming fond of you ,all the way to fucking you every single day,to adorning you with the proper title of their girl.
The two have learned some truth from a juvenile game. They learned that they’ve should’ve never met you,should’ve never crossed paths with you because now they’re completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even if they cover it up with insults and threats,they’d go crazy if other people had you like how they have.
Reblogs area greatly appreciated🫶🏽🫶🏽!!
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simmplerussiangirl · 27 days ago
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The Fugitive
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Ambessa Medarda x The Reader
Synopsis: It's very simple. You're Ambressa's wife and you were afraid you could kill her with your magic. So you ran away from the capital. It's about what happened after that
Word count: 1.2k
Author: Sorry, I'm really crazy about magic and Ambessa.
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Three weeks ago during your training with Ambressa, you couldn't do anything. Your magic, your legs, your arms weren't working, it was like someone had replaced you. And so when you were once again working with a new spell, you couldn't hold the magic in your hands, and a large ball of pure energy exploded in your hands. It didn't hurt you, because your magic is an extension of you and it can't hurt you.
 But Ambresse... The woman managed to cover herself with her shield and didn't get badly wounded. But the magic hit her arm. You instantly ran over to her as you recovered from the shock. Her left arm was bleeding, and the cuts were in the shape of the runes you'd drawn so diligently in the air a couple minutes before.
« It's okay, Witchy « the girl wheezed and leaned on her other arm to stand up, drops of blood falling from her hand to the floor. « It's okay, I'm not going to die from these scratches. Don't worry, you didn't hurt me badly and the runes didn't go deep under my skin. You just cut my skin. Don't worry.»
 But I just watched in silence, unable to say anything. The thought flashed through your mind of what would have happened if Ambressa had been standing there without her shield as usual. Would you have killed her? Most likely.
 That night you fled the capital, hoping to shield your beloved wife from yourself and your magic. But, of course, you were found and brought back.
Now you enter Ambressa's office, where she has been negotiating with her people about the war. Your heart sinks as she throws the warriors out of the room she was talking to in a cold and menacing voice. As the men left the room not forgetting to bow to you and Ambessa, the woman stood up from the table and walked around it. Leaning her hips against it in front of you, she folded her arms across her chest. You could feel waves of displeasure from the girl, and she didn't even try to hide it. For a while, you were both silent. You because you were insanely ashamed of what you had done. She because she was waiting for your excuses.
 You looked at the hand you'd wounded and saw the scattering of rune scars and breathed heavily, raising your gaze to her eyes.
« I was scared» you swallowed and hugged yourself to your shoulders, trying to pull yourself together «scared that I might accidentally kill you with my magic. You're very lucky you had your shield on that day. If you hadn't, it probably would have ended very badly.»
 I lowered my eyes to the floor, unable to find the strength to look into her eyes, where you could see the depths of worry and boundless love.
« Villains can't have family and happiness. I knew that, but I hoped it wouldn't affect us, but it did.»
«You're not a villain» Ambressa said in a steady voice, not trying to comfort, but rather stating it as a fact.
« I almost killed you!»
«But you didn't.»
«But I could» I cringed even more at the thought of it «that's why I left, because I don't want to. I can't live with the idea that I've done you irreparable harm. Now you've led with your hand, but what if.... If next time it doesn't work out.»
 Ambressa was silent and only watched you standing by the door like a little battered kitten who doesn't know what to do.
«You can run around as long as you like. But I'm gonna find you wherever you are. I'll find you and I'll bring you back home to me. You're my wife, my responsibility and I won't let you think you're evil. Even if you destroy the entire Earth, I'll find a million excuses for you and make everyone believe it. Let alone the fact that you hurt me a little while you were practicing. It's just a scratch and you couldn't have hurt me worse.”
 Ambressa moved around the room like a predator. Her steps were slow and measured. Her arms were folded across her chest as she sat down on the couch near the fireplace. The fire danced across her face, making her features look more and more menacing. The girl didn't look at me, which made my heart whimper.
 She certainly was not angry now. She was never angry with you. Was displeased or pissed off, but not angry. At the moment her heart was gripped by anxiety. A vice gripping her heart at even the phantom possibility of losing you. She was terrified that one morning she would wake up and realize you were gone again. The thought alone made her clench her eyes, trying to push such a thing away from her.
«But...»
« No buts.»  Ambressa said it in a tone after which there could be no arguments. She cut off any doubts, causing a flame of hope and boundless love to erupt inside you. Seeing you slump your tense shoulders, the girl smiled and spread her arms, inviting you into her strong, warm embrace. «Come to me, my Witch.»
 And you came. Of course you did. Almost running, you threw yourself into her arms, wrapping both arms around her waist and hiding from the world in her neck. You greedily inhaled the pleasant scent of the girl's perfume mixing with her natural odor. It was such a familiar scent that you had missed so much in a couple of weeks that it seemed that if you hadn't heard it for a couple more days, you would have gone crazy.
 Ambressa's hand stroked your back in a soothing gesture. She kissed the top of your head a couple times and turned back to the fire, glad to have you around again. The demons inside her calmed down, no longer lashing out, wanting to kill anyone who looked at her the wrong way. The creatures quieted, and Ambressa sank into the long-awaited calm, clutching you to her.
 You, in turn, clutched her clothes in your hands, afraid to open your eyes and not see your beloved. At such an action on your part, Ambressa laughed a little, admiring your childish behavior.
«Have you had enough of running?» she whispered into the top of your head between kisses.
 You didn't say a word, but nodded affirmatively, drew your legs closer, and turned to the fire.
«You won't run away again?»  Ambressa's hand gently tousled your disheveled hair.
«Never again in your life.» You whispered, and rested your head on her shoulder, moving it slightly, like a cat wanting to be petted. « I thought I was going to die without you... I missed you so much. Waking up every day and not seeing you, not hearing your voice, not feeling your touch - it's my hell...»
« I love you.» You continued after a little silence. «More than anyone else in this world.»
 The clan head moved her hand to your shoulder and pressed you against her. Her heart ached pleasantly at your warm words, she literally melted when you told her how you felt.
«Me too, Witchy, me too.»
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Thanks for reading. If there are any comments I accept criticism in a mild form. Don't break my heart :)
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sitepathos · 4 months ago
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From Gold to Mold
Chapter 8: The Reunion
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“Oh god, look at all these people,” you mutter, looking around the hall the award ceremony from your seat in the developer section, which is full beyond capacity. “Don’t think I’ve seen this many people before.”
The last time you saw so many people was your graduation night at Gotham Academy, but this makes that look like a small office party in comparison.
(There is no need to fret. You have polished your speech to perfection and have rehearsed it so many times you can recite it perfectly in your sleep. And when you are done, all will cheer for you.)
You smile at its words. No matter how uncertain you feel, the Megamycete always has your back. You’d hate to think where you’d be without it.
Well, without the Megamycete, you’d probably be dead.
“Wonder where Alfred is,” you wonder, looking around at the back of the hall. “He said he was coming.”
(We are sure he is here. The butler would swim through shards of broken glass to be here at the biggest triumph of your life.)
You’re so anxious to see the man; it’s been four years since you last saw him in person and you just know he’s going to bring up your lack of visits and probably try to guilt you into visiting since Gotham’s only three hours away, but you intend to stand your ground and go back to Goodsprings tomorrow.
“I hope he likes the suit I got,” you mutter, messing with your collar for the millionth time, not use to wearing such fancy clothes.
(He will. You chose from among millions of choices and made the best choice. Everyone in the room is no doubt in awe of your superior fashion choice.)
The day you were told you were in the running for this award, you drove to Vegas and spent well over an hour at the Men’s Warehouse, looking over and trying on countless suits. The salesman helped a bit, but many people in the Megamycete’s records included many upper class men, men’s fashion designers, and models, so you were more than capable of picking out a tasteful black blazer with a breast pocket perfect for holding your Momma’s pen, a white button up shirt, and matching black pants and dress shoes.
The clothes looked fine on the rack, but wearing them in public for all to see is something you had to psych yourself up for. You feel like a kid playing pretend with his father’s clothes and everyone knows it. Still, you can’t help but feel like a professional and take a little pride in it.
Just then, the lights dim and the audience cheers as the MC steps on stage.
“Hello, everyone,” he says. “Are you ready to kick off the Golden Games?”
The room fills with thunderous applause and cheers, yours among them. You’ve known about this event for years and have never missed watching it. When you first started your game, you fantasized about being at the Gamer’s Gala competing with your fellow developers for the Golden Joystick, but knew there was no chance your first game would ever make it to the first round of voting. Perhaps your second game. Or maybe your third.
But here you are, at this prestigious event with your first ever game in top contention for a prize so many covet.
You pinch yourself to make sure you’re awake and are pleased that you’re wide awake.
The ceremony opens up with the Golden Joystick for the Triple-A Game of the Year and awards for their various categories, like story, gameplay, music, graphics, etc.
“Alright, with all the big dogs out of the way, we finally get to the indie games. And boy, was this year a massive success for so many indie developers with over fifty percent of this year’s most anticipated games being indie games! Let’s go over your picks for this year’s Indie Game of the Year.”
You get a look at the trophy you and your peers are competing for: the Golden Joystick. As the name suggests, it’s a trophy in the shape of an old fashioned joystick made up of a gold material. For a moment, you allow yourself to visualize winning it and displaying it in your office. Hell, you had a spot on a shelf made for it when you got the email from the event committee that Salvage Rights was a candidate for Indie Game of the Year, even though voting was still ongoing.
The MC begins going through the list of games with said games and their developers being displayed on one massive screen behind him with the game’s team showing up on the other one. With each game mentioned, you think about your Momma; you can remember being at some awards ceremony years ago when one of her books was up for some fancy prize. Even back then, you could tell she was so nervous about getting up and making a speech in front of so many people and having it broadcast for all to see.
At the time, you didn’t understand because she would’ve been given an award and everyone could see. Unfortunately, she didn’t win and while she said she hope to win it, it was good enough to be considered for it, you were pissed on her behalf over it.
Being here, you understand why she felt that way. While it would be a dream come true to win the Golden Joystick on your first ever game, just being here, among your peers, is more than enough; knowing you’re skilled enough to make a game worthy of being judged among the best is a tremendous honor. Plus, the thought of having to make a speech in front of so many people makes you so nervous, you fear you’ll lose your lunch.
God, you wish your Momma was here. This is the biggest moment in your professional life and having her in the audience would make you feel better.
(We are sure she would give anything to be here for you. Wherever she is, she is no doubt watching this moment with unparalleled anticipation.)
“And last but not least, the game that exploded onto the scene a month ago and made a surprise cameo on the voting polls, Salvage Rights by Gould Games,” the MC announces as your game appears on one screen while you appear on the other, lit up by a spotlight.
You feel your face break out into a blush as the room fills with applause and cheers. To know that so many people hold you and your work in such high regard… it’s humbling to say the least.
You wave back and give them a big smile.
Finally, the room quiets down, allowing the ceremony to continue.
“Ok, everyone, with all the candidates on the board.” The screen on the right of the stage lists all the games and their developers, yours the last on the list. “We opened the polls for all gamers and had a record breaking ten-point-nine million ones this year for the Indie Game of the Year, guys!”
The room once again fills with applause and a girl runs from backstage, delivers him an envelope, and runs off.
“It took the Gala Committee a while to tally the votes, but when all was said and done, it was clear who the winner was.” He opens the envelope and a drumroll plays from the speakers to buildup the moment. As he pulls out the piece of paper inside it, you realize you’re holding your breath and your heart’s stopped due to the anticipation. “The Golden Joystick for Indie Game of the Year goes to…” He looks down at the paper and looks back up. “Salvage Rights by Gould Games!”
Your eyes become wide as saucers as you process the words, your heart resumes beating and your release the breath you’d been holding since the candidates were announced. You then realize you’re bathed in the spotlights as the big screen shows you at your seat; the room fills with applause and cheers, many people near you congratulating you.
You get up and walk to the stage, nodding and clapping hands with many you pass by on your way to claim your award. Finally, you make it on stage and shake hands with the MC, who gives you the Golden Joystick.
(This is the only way this could have ended. You worked tirelessly on your game and did not stop until it was the definition of perfection. You were more worthy than any other for this trophy.)
“Thank you,” you say into the mic, silencing the room. “I just want to thank my fellow game developers, the Committee, and especially the gamers, who gave me the opportunity to be here.” This garners more applause. “I have to say, when I first started working on Salvage Rights, I never in a million years thought I’d be here, in the most prestigious gaming event, receiving the greatest award an indie game can receive, but I guess I was proven wrong.”
The room fills with laughter and you sigh in relief. Good, they seem to be liking your speech.
(As they should. You revised it over a dozen times and practiced it in front of your stuffed toys at least fifty times.)
“When I first got into video games, it was just because I was a kid who was fascinated by being able to play on a DS anytime, anyplace. Now, I’m into video games because they are the new medium of art. Think about it, there are games out there that have stories that would made Shakespeare weep, music worthy of being performed in symphonies, and art styles that should be studied by artists hundred years from now. It’s a medium that transcends all others that have come before it.”
More applause. Good, they like it.
“I first started work on Salvage Rights not long after my fifteenth birthday, nine years to the day that I unfortunately lost my Momma to a drunk driver.” You see many people in the audience take notice at this, clearly not expecting to hear something so tragic. “At the time, I was living in a place that neglected me; from the day I first arrived, I was treated like I didn’t exist and any attempts I made to get their attention was ignored.” Clearly your words resonate with people, because you can see a few people tearing up.
“I had someone there I could rely on, and he made those times more bearable, but he couldn’t get rid of that feeling of loneliness that I had felt for years and all I wanted was for my Momma to walk through that door and take me back home. But no matter how much I hoped and prayed, she never came and my loneliness only got worse with each day.
“My only escape from those days were video games. While in real life, I was a nobody in that house, but I was able to dive into one game where I was a noble hero who was destined to defeat the embodiment of evil, or dive into another game where I tamed the mightiest of beasts and triumph over the strongest of champions, or dive into one game where i could master every life skill possible and bring light to a world facing eternal darkness. It was during those days that I learned that games provided an escape from the confines of reality, if only for a little bit. And that’s when I realized I wanted to create a game that could allow someone to escape reality and become the best version of themselves.”
There’s definitely a couple people on the audience crying at this point.
(You have them eating out of the palm of your hand. Time to reel them in.)
“So, I want to thank each and every one of you, both those in this room and watching across the globe, for giving my game a chance and allowing me to fulfill my dream. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”
The room explodes into applause and cheers, even a few whistles. I shake hands with the MC once more walk off stage and cross the room back to your seat, shaking hands and receiving pats on the back the entire time.
(A resounding success,) the Megamycete says as you sit down. (They hung on your every word. After tonight, everyone will know of your talent and many will beg for the opportunity to work on their newest project, offering you the world in exchange for your expertise. As they should.)
“Easy, buddy, you’re gonna give me one hell of an ego at this rate.”
(It is only naturally to think so highly of yourself. Compared to everyone in this room, you are a god.)
The rest of the ceremony features trailers for games releasing in the near future and announcements for new titles, making a note to keep an eye on many of them for you to buy on release or pre-order when they become available.
After the ceremony, you follow the rest of the developers to the Developer’s Lounge, a room that’s lavishly decorated and fully stocked with a wide array of food and drinks being served by a dozen waiters, all of it courtesy of Lex Luthor, who is currently talking to a group of triple-A executives, his bodyguard close behind him; many of your peers and various VIPs are already eating, drinking, and talking with other developers, game journalists (ugh), or their personal guests. You gratefully accept a champagne flute from a passing waiter and make your way around the room, looking around for any sign of Alfred.
“Where is he,” you mutter to yourself, scanning the room.
“Mr. Y/N Gould,” a masculine voice calls out to you, making you turn to the source: a tall, blue eyed man wearing a pair of black framed glasses, a grey jacket over a dark blue tie and light blue button up shirt, navy blue pants, and black loafers.
(We sense a spike in your heart rate. Are you alright?)
Oh, you’re better than alright. Some attractive man knows your name and wants to speak to you.
(You are attracted to this man. This is the first time we have ever experienced infatuation firsthand. We look forward to seeing this interaction unfold.)
“Yes,” you say, managing to find your voice. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Clark Kent, Daily Planet,” the man responds, raising his hand and you accept.
It’s then you notice the feel of something metallic and when you glance at his hand, you see a gold wedding band.
Damn it.
(We grieve the loss of your potential mate.)
Oh well, always lots of fish in the sea.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Kent?”
“Yes, the Daily Planet was hoping to write an article on the winner of the winner of the Indie Game of the Year. Is there anyway I can talk you into doing an interview?”
(He can still be of use to you. By doing this interview, he can help you find you a worthy mate.)
Great, now you have sentient mold trying to play matchmaker. Well, at least you’ll be able to get more people interested in your game. The Daily Planet’s the biggest paper in Metropolis and has decent following around the country.
“I hope you can wait a little while for that interview, Kent.”
You freeze at the new voice, a voice you haven’t heard in over four years. You hope that, somehow, you’ve made some huge mistake and it’s not who you think it is. You then realize that the entire room’s gone silent, sans a few whispers, and now all eyes are on you and the newcomer behind you, Clark chief among them.
You realize that your breathing and your heartbeat have ceased, and the pit of anxiety and fear from earlier has returned, but there’s now rage included in that mix; rage you haven’t felt in over four years. Rage that finally went away when you finally escaped Gotham and put it and Wayne Manor in your rearview mirror.
You feel a hand grasp your left shoulder and out of the corner of your eye, see a tall figure come to a stop to your right. You slowly turn your head to fae the figure and look up to see your worst nightmare: Bruce Fucking Wayne looking down at you, his signature fake ass smile adorning his stupid mug and a champagne flute similar to yours in hand.
He’s dressed far too formal for an event about video games, wearing a designer black suit with matching pants that probably cost more than your car. You can dig through all your memories of the man and never find one instance of the man wearing anything casual. And that smile of his, the one he always flashes to his insufferable blue-blooded friends; you want to punch him so hard in the face that every last tooth shatters, but you manage to put a lid on that urge.
If only just barely.
(What is this shameless heathen doing here,) the Megamycete hisses. (The audacity of this creature to show up on the best night of your life and ruin it. You should kill him. Immediately.)
Right now, you’re really tempted to give him the Joker Treatment.
“I’m afraid Y/N and I have much to talk about.”
“Mr. Wayne,” Clark stampers out. “Do you know Mr. Gould?”
“I would say so,” he responds in that fake cheery tone he only reserves for galas and paparazzi, those “honeyed words” so disgustingly sweet and fake it makes you want to vomit. Preferably on him. He tries to pull you closer to him, but you’re able to resist it no problem thanks to the Megamycete. “He’s my son.”
And like that, the crowd around you descends into chaos, many of them loudly talking among themselves while others take out their phones and cameras and begin snapping pictures of the two of you, and so many media types are shouting questions towards you and him.
But all that doesn’t really phase you. Right now, you feel as if the world has crumbled around you and now you’re left free falling in an endless void, doomed to spend the rest of eternity in this sort of purgatory.
You’re frozen where you stand, unable to look anywhere else but at the face of the man you hate with your entire being and as you look into those eyes of his, every single memory of your stay at Wayne Manor flashes before your eyes; you’re overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness, loneliness, pain, and humiliation you were forced to deal with during those twelve long, horrible years. Right now, it takes every bit of restraint and willpower you have to not let all the thoughts you have of ripping this bastard’s head off and kicking it so far that every NFL team in the country would offer you fifty million in advance if you signed on with them become reality.
(You should do it. Kill this man. Teach him the meaning of pain. Let him feel all the pain he and his flock have caused you for years and despair. Make him regret ever taking you for granted.)
Ok, your usual voice of reason is now howling for blood. This does not bold well for you.
“Mr. Wayne,” you finally respond, finding the strength to keep your voice steady and not cause a scene (or at least a bigger one than he has already); you brush his hand off your shoulder, making a mental note to burn these clothes (damn it, you paid good money for these). “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, I’m definitely not your son. Perhaps you’ve had too much to drink? Wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. You should sit down before you make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of all these people.”
His smile falls and you can see the hurt shine in his eyes for a fraction of a second. He’s an expert at concealing his emotions, so for you to do something like that makes you giddy.
“Y/N,” he pathetically responds as he reaches out to you, but you take a step back. “I am—“
“You’re a sperm donor, nothing more, Mr. Wayne,” you hiss, revealing in the hurt expression that breaks out on his face. It’s probably fake, a stunt to pull for the crowd, but you don’t care. You’ve held all these feelings in for years and now that you have the chance to give this son of a bitch a piece of your mind, you’re taking it. “You’re not my dad and I’m sure as hell not your son!”
“Y/N, I know I wasn’t the best father to you, but—“
You lose it at that. All the abuse and misery and neglect you had to deal with from him and his kids for over ten years, and he has the nerve to say he “knows” anything about how you feel? In a swift motion, you throw your champagne at him, dousing his face in the clear-yellowish drink that quickly pours down his neck and soaks his expensive black jacket.
The crowd gasps at this, but you absolutely couldn’t give a shit. This was to be the best night of your life and he had to go and ruin it by daring to show his hideous face and dare to have a conversation with you. Fuck, he probably took Alfred’s place, so you had no one here to share in your big moment, something that makes you even more pissed off.
Throwing your champagne at him only made your rage burn hotter, demanding to inflict as much pain and suffering on this man that you’ve suffered for years. You quickly close the gap between you two, deliver a harsh right hook to the right side of the man’s jaw and follow up by shoving the man as hard as you can (though still holding back a lot of strength so you don’t reveal what you really are), causing him to topple to the floor, landing on his ass.
At this rate, you don’t really care what people say about you after this, all you care about is hurting him. You look down at the pathetic wretch at your feet and love the look of horror and pain etched on his face, reveling in the terror in his eye and the blood dripping from his closed mouth.
(Yes,) the Megamycete screams. (More. More. Make him hurt. Make him bleed. Make him realize who the superior one is.)
“Someone call an ambulance, this asshole’s gonna need one,” you growl, pouncing towards the man who made you lose the best years of your life, ready to pound his face so hard that they’ll have to rely on fingerprints to identify him.
Just then, you’re caught in mid-air and when you look behind you, it’s Clark, his arms wrapped around your waist in a surprisingly strong grip.
“Mr. Gould,” he says in a tone like he’s trying to soothe a startled animal (which isn’t too far off the mark). “Please, control yourself.”
You don’t want to. In front of you is the man who treated you like shit from the day you two met, making you wish you were in the car when your Momma died so that you never met him. This was suppose to be your night — your moment of triumph — and he had to go and ruin it. And you want nothing more than to put this man in a full body cast, and that’s you being generous.
But when you see the look of total shock on his face, and everyone in the crowd who has the same expression, your rage finally cools down. Not because you feel guilty over what you did to Bruce, you were ready to reduce him to a bloody red paste, but because everyone just saw your absolute worst.
You go slack in Clark’s hold and that’s when he finally lets you go, having to command the mold to reinforce your leg bones to keep you standing because without it, you’re ready to collapse form the burst of energy you just burned through.
“Is there a problem here,” Lex says as he emerges from the crowd, Mercy following close behind. He glances down at Bruce and a ghost of a smirk appears on his face.
“I have an axe to grind with him,” you say, doing your best to even out your voice. “I’m sorry for making a scene.”
“What about pushing Mr. Wayne,” Lex asks, motioning to the man.
“No, that’s something I’m very proud of.”
You can see Bruce flinch at that and it makes you feel good.
“Well, it’s always a pleasure to see Bruce Wayne be taken down a peg,” the man chuckles. He then turns to the rest of the crowd. “Alright, show’s over, everyone. Go back to your own business.”
Slowly but surely, the crowd breaks up and the party resumes, but you can definitely tell many of the media types are still looking at you and Bruce and are no doubt chomping at the bit to talk to either of you, many of them furiously typing on their phones, probably texting their bosses and sending whatever pictures and videos they took.
“Mr. Gould, I’d be honored if you would give me a few minutes of your time.” He extends his arm as if you were a woman. “I have much I’d like to talk with you about.”
You discreetly glance down at Bruce, who looks like he’s ready to do to Lex what you did to him a minute ago. You know that Lex is only doing this to piss off Bruce, his biggest business rival, and is probably using you in hopes of getting some speck of dirt on Bruce and maybe even some Wayne Enterprises secrets.
And god damn it if the thought of that doesn’t make you giddy.
“Of course,” you say in a sweet tone of voice, looping your arm in Lex’s. “The honor would be mine.”
He leads you towards a private area of the lounge and as you pass by Bruce, who’s still on the floor, you glance over at him and give him a dirty look, making it clear that you hate his guts and the next time he tries something like this, you won’t hold back.
You don’t know what Bruce wants and why he’s suddenly showed up after four years of your leaving, but chances are he’s only here to serve his own agenda and you want nothing to do with him or his crazy ass family. You have your own life and are finally happy for the first time in years, and you’ll be damned if you’ll allow all your hard work to be destroyed.
If it comes down to it, you’ll wage war against him and the rest of the Bats.
(Yes, clip their wings. Tear them to shreds. Grind them into powder. Tear down everything that they are and leave nothing behind so they are forgotten by the world.)
Bruce watches as you and Lex wonder off to some desolate corner of the lounge, simultaneously plotting an attack on Lex Corp that will hot Luthor hard and replaying his interaction with you, going through millions of different ways that could’ve gone better. Or at least, not ended with you almost tearing him limb from limb, the only thing saving him was Kent’s intervention.
Ok, maybe approaching you like Brucie Wayne, millionaire playboy philanthropist, was a bad idea, but it was the only way he could think of that wouldn’t scare you off. He really thought that talking to you with his usual charm and bravado would’ve at least given him a chance to talk to you.
All it got him was a look into your temper.
Fuck, the look of pure rage and disgust in your eye the entire time you talked to him. Right now, he just wants to curl up and die, but he also wants to scoop you up into his arms, hug you tightly, and beg for your forgiveness, no matter how much of a fool he made of himself or how much you bite, scratch, and hit him.
It’s then he thinks back on you shoving him and it’s then he realizes it doesn’t make any sense. He’s a solid six-foot-two, way taller than you and while he would never call you weak, you definitely aren’t a bodybuilder, so he should’ve been able to withstand your shove no problem. But he’s been fighting against beings with super strength all his adult life, so he knows the difference between a strong human and a Meta.
But you’re not a Meta, right? He’s spent the last twenty-four hours digging up every piece of information he can on you, your medical records from Southern Hills Hospital being one of the first things he delved into. When you were born, you were a healthy baby boy, no signs of illness and certainly no trace of the Meta Gene. He even has your medical records during your time in Gotham (Alfred being the one to take you to all your appointments because he certainly didn’t do it), and everything points to you being in perfect health.
So, how were you able to shove him like that, a man who goes toe-to-toe with the likes of Bane on a regular basis?
“Are you ok, Bruce,” Clark asks, extending his hand to help him up.
“I’m fine,” he responds, brushing the hand aside and getting up on his own.
“Pardon me if I don’t believe that, I could tell you were shaken up by that.”
If there’s one skill Bruce prides himself on, it’s his ability to conceal his emotions, able to hide his true feelings from anyone and everyone, even from telepaths such as Martian Manhunter.
But seeing how his son, his baby boy, feels about him made him forget his control. Him not being able to hide the pain he felt when you lashed out at him, clearly holding a lot of anger and resentment towards him, was one of the few experiences that has shaken him to his core.
“Mr. Wayne,” Vicky Vale says as she emerge from the crowd and approaches them. “Care to make a statement on what just happened?”
It takes everything he has to not let out a groan. Of course, Vicky Vale is always there whenever some drama happens to either him or his children in public. She had a field day with him when he she asked about his bruises and limp he got last time he fought Killer Croc and he had to play it off as some really kinky sex he and some supermodel had.
“Not now, Vicky,” he responds, leading Clark closer to where you and Lex walked off to. “I have a prior engagement with Mr. Kent here.”
“I didn’t know you had a son before Damian,” Clark whispers as they walk.
“Let’s just say I did everything wrong when it came to him,” he responds back, keeping his voice low. “I found out I screwed up and came here to try to make amends. You know how that ended.”
“I know, we all had front row seats to that. Also, I’ve been listening to his and Lex’s conversation the entire time.”
“What’s that bastard saying to him,” he hisses, pissed off beyond words that snake is talking to you, his baby boy.
“So far, Y/N’s just trash talking you, calling you every name in the book and angry that you ruined his big night.”
Bruce winces at that. He knew it’s Alfred you want here to share in your achievement, but he couldn’t miss this night, not when he’s missed so much of your life. To see you, smiling on stage and acting so humble after wining an award as important as that was absolutely mesmerizing.
Of course, your speech hit him like a freight train. He knew he wasn’t the father you deserved, but to hear you talk about your time with him so poorly was more than he was prepared to handle. Of course you miss your mother and he’s glad you think so highly of her, but is there really nothing he can do to make you reconsider giving him another chance? To give his family another chance?
“Lex is now offering to be a benefactor to Gould Games; Y/N have total creative license on all projects and would be given a massive office in one of Metropolis’ premiere high-rises.”
“In exchange for WE secrets, no doubt.”
The thought of you and Lex working together makes him sick. The man is a snake and wouldn’t hesitate to betray you if it benefitted him in any way. If you need money for your new games, he’d be more than happy to do it! You could be a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises with as large a budget as you want, with your choice of office in Wayne Tower or around Gotham. You’d have all the best computers and software that money could buy and if you need to hire more people, you can choose all the people you want and he’d personally arrange for them to be flown to Gotham, ready to work as soon as possible.
“That’s right,” Clark responds. “Don’t worry, he turned him down. Looks like you won’t be losing nay more money to Lex this year.”
“Y/N doesn’t know anything.”
As sad as it is, that’s the truth; you’d been shut out by all of them that you couldn’t give any of his secrets away. Hell, you don’t even know that you’ve been living with Gotham’s vigilantes.
“He’s been kept in the dark about everything,” he mutters as he looks at you, chatting away with Metropolis’ biggest wannabe.
Maybe he should tell you that he and your siblings are Gotham’s vigilantes? Not that it’s any excuse with how they treated you for yeas, but with any hope, it would make you more understanding on why they were always so busy and at least consider talking with them.
Just then, Clark winces at something Lex just said.
“What,” he snaps.
“Lex just invited him for dinner. And based off his tone, he has more in mind than just business.”
And with that, all he can see is red and he’s filled with rage at the bald bastard.
“Bruce, wait,” Clark calls out as he stops over to where you are.
“Bruce,” Lex says with a smirk as he approaches the both of you. “I hope you’re not looking for another beating from Y/N.”
He looks over to you, your expression clearly indicating you’re visualizing beating the hell out of him right now.
“Of course not, I just wanted to extend an invitation to him for dinner. It’s been forever since we had a father-son dinner.”
“We’ve never had dinner together before,” you snarl.
“His loss, I assure you,” Lex responds, giving you a look that makes Bruce want to punch his lights out.
“Y/N has nothing you want, Lex,” Bruce growls, trying to keep his anger from getting the best of him. “Leave him alone.”
“I disagree, Bruce. Y/N is charming, witty, and a delightful to be around.” He has a twinkle in his eye that makes Bruce even angrier. “He definitely takes after his mother.”
Bruce opens his mouth to spit some insult at the fucker, but you intervene.
“Yes, Momma raised me well,” you say, looking right at him before looking back at Lex. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Luthor, but I’m afraid I’m heading back home first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe the next time I’m in the area?”
“I’m certainly hoping that will be soon.” He pulls out a card and hands it to you. “My personal phone number and email. The next time you come to Metropolis, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me and I’ll see to it you’re afforded every luxury this city has to offer.”
“Thank you,” you responded, taking the card and pocketing it. “I certainly hope to visit again soon. Metropolis is way better than Gotham. Hard to believe that cesspit is its sister city.”
He winces hearing your clear disdain for his city, the home of his family. Your rightful home.
“Indeed,” Lex chuckles. “Gotham is so painfully outdated in every respect it’s almost funny. If I had my way, all of its archaic structures would be torn down and replaced for more modern and aesthetically pleasing replacements.”
“That style is Gotham,” Bruce growls, unable to put up with the disrespect of his city. “Gotham has resembled its current form for over a hundred years now. It’s a reflection of its storied past.”
“A storied past of misery and insanity,” you respond. “Gotham isn’t a place where good people end up. It’s a spiderweb that slowly drains everyone within it of all they have, leaving nothing but empty husks behind. Maybe all of it should be torn down.”
You say the words, but all he hears is his voice. When his parents were killed, he felt the same way about Gotham as you do. It took him years to finally shed his hatred and resentment for the city and see its beauty. As much as you’d probably hate to admit it, you really are his son.
“I’d love to stay and continue this riveting conversation, but I’m afraid I have an appointment across town. He turns to his bodyguard. “Mercy, ready the car.” She nods and leaves. “And Y/N, I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in my city. Perhaps you’d allow me the honor of taking you to the airport myself?”
“I’d like that very much, Mr. Luthor,” you say, giving that bastard a smile that makes his blood boil.
“Please, call me Lex.”
“Ok, Lex,” you say with a chuckle.
Oh, he’s going to make Luthor suffer for this. When he gets back to the Batcave, he’s going to plant so many viruses into Luthor’s systems, he’ll spend months recovering a single piece of data.
Finally, the man walks away, leaving you and him alone at last.
“I’ll say this only once, Mr. Wayne,” you say in a tone that shows you mean business. “So listen close: I don’t know what you’re doing here or what you hoped to achieve here, but stay away from me. I’m finally happy for the first time in years and I won’t allow you to fuck it up for me.”
He winces at your words. And the fact that you’re calling him “Mr. Wayne,” like he’s a stranger (though with how he treated you for over ten years, that’s not too far from the truth). He knows that he has no right to be called “dad” or “father,” but you can’t even call him by his name like your siblings do? Do you really hate him that much?
“Y/N, please—“
“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, cutting him off. “This is your only warning: stay away from me. I’m not weak like I was when I was first dragged to Gotham. Keep butting in where you don’t belong and I’ll personally reunite you with your parents.”
You go to walk away, but he grabs you by your shoulder. You quickly snap your head to look at him, your expression so full of hate and disgust. He knows this isn’t helping his case, but he can’t let you leave like this; he needs to keep you here so he can talk to you, to beg you for just a few minutes of your time.
You grab his hand with yours and begin squeezing so hard his hand begins to throb and he has to fight to hide his expression of pain from the crowd.
Not only do you not look you visit the gym, but this type of strength is something beyond what a normal human is capable of. Just what secrets do you have?
He meets your gaze and he has to suppress the fear he feels when looking in your eyes. There’s hate in them, no doubt about that, but there’s something else in them. Something dark. It also doesn’t help that you have his mother’s eyes and seeing them look at him that way cuts him to his core.
You shove his hand away from you and you storm off, ignoring as a dozen journalists come up to you and leaving him to stand there, watching you walk away from him and ignoring the throbbing of his hand.
“You ok,” Clark asks after walking up to him.
“No,” he mutters. He looks down at the camera in the Kryptonian’s hand. “Did you take any pictures of him during the ceremony?”
“Yeah,” the reporter responds, holding it up. “I was in the press section of the audience. I got a couple good shots.”
“Send them to me,” he orders while walking off.
Many reporters try to talk to him, but he doesn’t spare them a second glance. Right now, all that matters is planning his next move. You’ve made it very clear that you resent them for how they treated you while you lived with them and while he understands that perfectly, you need to understand that he’s your father and his children are your siblings.
He’s happy that you’ve made a life for yourself in Nevada and are successful in your career as a video game developer, but you’re a Wayne and all Waynes belong in Gotham, under his roof.
He gets his phone out and tells his children to be ready for a family meeting as soon as he returns in the morning. As much as he wants to find a way to bring you back to the fold on his own, he can’t do it alone. With any luck, your siblings will be able to reach you. Hell, he might have to call on Alfred to help bring you home.
He will uncover everything about you (including whatever what you just did) and when he does, he’ll use that knowledge to make you realize you’re son and your rightful place is by his side, where he can keep an eye on you and shield you from the dangers of this world.
One way or another, you’ll come back to Gotham and when you do, he and you’ll siblings will shower you in the love you deserve. And after that, they’ll throw the biggest gala ever, with you as the centerpiece, and show you off as the most important member of the Wayne Family; all of Gotham elite will climb over one another in hopes of courting you, but he and you siblings will never allow them to come anywhere close to you as you won’t need anyone but them to keep you company.
It doesn’t matter how long it takes or what he has to do, he’ll learn your secrets (as is his birthright) and lead you back to where you belong.
Even if he has to drag you back home by your ankles.
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szasfuckingwife · 8 months ago
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When Mimiko and Nanako ran up to you claiming they found something in daddy’s pocket, you didn’t pay them no mind. After all, many things can be found in ones pocket — gum, a wallet, a gun.
But when they returned with a small ring box, you suddenly had to end your phone call with Shoko to investigate what was going on.
It couldn’t be for you, could it? It felt a bit selfish to assume that the ring was for you.
The girls were long gone as you held it in your hand trying to figure out who else he could give it to. There’s his mother! Ah, of course.
But why? Her birthday was not until a couple months and it was spring time so the ‘Christmas Spirit’ has surely died out.
It couldn’t be for Utahime. As in the CFO Utahime who surely wouldn’t get caught dead accepting a gift from a man — not when she can easily get it herself.
And then it clicked.
Gojo! Of course. You know the two of them have been friends for a long time so maybe Suguru was helping Satoru propose to his girlfriend.
However, just as you were about to open it, a voice sounded behind you.
“Y/N?” You turned around to see your boyfriend of many years with a handful of groceries. Well, that was before he dropped them to the ground in shock. You blinked at him, unable to form words as he walked closer to you.
He was shocked, You were shocked. The sounds of the girls playing outside was probably making the situation more awkward. Then you decided to speak.
“The girls gave me this…” You mumble as you give him the box, “They were going through your jacket and they just…”
Your voice died down before you heard him chuckle. “This is just my luck.”
Suguru watches your brow raise, “I just came back from meeting with the owner of that really nice restaurant. I asked him if I can have the whole balcony free in a few weeks time.”
It was funny watching you put the pieces together, “I was gonna propose, babe.”
That’s when your mouth fell. In the back of your head, you knew. You just didn’t know how much he truly loved you until now.
“Oh..” You let out a breath.
“I had it all planned out. The flowers, the food, the setting. I even booked an appointment for you to get your nails done. I asked for your dad’s permission. I begged Shoko to come ring shopping with me. I-”
His words were halted by a passionate kiss from you. The both of you locked eyes with smiles adorning your faces.
“All you had to do was ask, Sugu…Yes, a million times yes!”
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jacaerysgf · 7 months ago
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Thinking about when Jace got teased by asking if he knew where he had to put his cock in… a fic about it would kill me
a.n: im sure this has been done a million times before but this is my take on it :3 this is prob not as smutty as you probably hoped but i hope you like it <333 only warnings are reader is a northern (no specific house) and oral (fem)
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“You do know how the act is done i assume. At least in principle.” You see the way jace tenses next to you and aegon shoots you a pleased look. your face falls, this was not going to be good.
“Where to put your cock and all that.” You place a hand on jaces shoulder but he does not acknowledge you as you can tell he is growing angrier by the second. “Ignore him jace, he’s not worth it-”
“You can play the jester if you wish. but hold your tongue before my bethrothed.” Aegon says not more but you remove your hand from his shoulder as jace gulps down the remainder of his wine. You can tell he’s pissed. His jaw is clenched and his leg bounces up and down, eyes set at the wall.
You hate how hot he looks, how his stare has your thighs clenching together. You have only been betrothed for a few months now. You had taken a trip down to dragonstone to meet him when the trial suddenly was called and you agreed to join him and the rest of his family.
When you place a hand on his thigh his leg stops moving and his head turns towards you, eyes wide. You squeeze his thigh lightly as you lean closer to him, your words hushed. “Do not let him bother you jace.” The look in his eye is dark as they roam around your face and land on your lips. You hold your breath and your hand slips off his thigh as you turn away from him. There was no way he was going to kiss you but you can’t help but feel embarrassed still.
Your attention is quickly taken away by baela who asks you numerous questions about the north and you happily answer all her questions, assuring her you would be more than happy to show her around should she be interested in going there.
The night goes sour and you rush after jace who quickly storms out of the room after being dismissed. You call his name as you sprint down the hall but he does not turn to look at you or stop his movement until you are right next to him, in front of his room.
“Jace-”
Before you even realize it your on the bed with his head under your dress. His tongue lapping at your walls with his hands pressing against your knees to keep them apart. One of your hands covers you mouth while the other grips tightly at the hair on his head, with every pull he lets out a groan that sends shivers up and down your back.
You do not know how you even ended up here. He was just so angry about the whole dinner that he needed something to relieve his stress and he has vowed that has much as he wishes too he will not bed you before your wedding. But this was not him bedding you, he has not stuck his cock where his tongue is plunging in and out it did not count in his eyes.
He always has hated that you had to cover your mouth, always wishing he could just hear you fully but he only has one more moon cycle before he can fully, till then he can settle for the muffled sounds of your delight.
Aegon knew nothing of your relationship he had no clue why he let it bother him so much. He had no clue that jace had you crying his name on his lips more times than he can ever count, hes sure aegon has never even had a women release before but jace sure has and you were living proof.
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perm jace taglist <3
@earth4angels @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @ravenn-darkholme
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