#we were doing a thing where someone's got their legs around your waist trapping you from behind and how to get out of there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

A Special Kind of Man

this fic swap is for @safertokiss ... I really hope you like it, emma bc this was so fun to write lol

A/N: OMG! this is a part of my first fic swap and the first time I’ve done something like this with so many people, it’s been so cool.

Summary: Spencer Reid was a virgin, you knew that. What you didn’t expect however was how much he was really holding back.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: loss of virginity (spencer), mommy kink, penetrate sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

I always knew Spencer Reid was special, and sure, everyone he’s ever had a conversation with would look at this 24 year old kid spewing facts that no human would think to ever learn about, stockpiling knowledge about, well, everything. I’m sure he amazes people with his mind, I too am amazed when he opens his mouth and the exact number of a certain model Ford truck that is bought every year falls out.

But what else I knew about Spencer that made him more special, more worshipable was beyond anything anyone outside our closed doors would know, and my god would I ever be a fool if I didn’t do just that; worship him.

I would have continued to believe that somewhere down the line, someone would have been smart enough to give that man every piece of love and attention he deserves, because let me be perfectly candid, Spencer was beautiful. His jawline that never lacked the tension of holding back every nugget of knowledge he had stored in that beautiful brain of his, and the eyes like honey that stare up at me with an innocence and desperation alike every time I straddle his lap.

Spencer Reid was not only worth worshipping, but he believed that I deserve that kind of dedication and preach as well.

I never did quite ask if he was a virgin, but in the back of my mind I always knew he had been surrounded by blind fools his whole life in the way he grasped onto my body and whimpered in my mouth every time I perched myself onto him. He would never go further than heavy petting, which meant neither did I. Spencer may be worth worshipping, but I would never push him to receive such.

So, when we found ourselves entangled once again, my legs spread to wrap around his hips as he sat perched against the back of the couch, and I felt the coolness of his hesitant fingers snake their way under my shirt, I was surprised into pulling away from the heavy kiss we were sharing. Immediately his hands, that initially sent a chill hurtling up my spine only to fill me with warmth, returned back to my waist over the shirt, scared that he had done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, looking down and rushing through the words with so much embarrassment and fear of my reaction as if I could ever imagine tantalizing or walking away from him.

“Do you want to?” I asked, and personally thanked whoever was listening that Spencer Reid was a profiler, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes, or the breathiness to my voice. He had, unbeknownst to my partner here, left me having to take deep breaths and positively buzzing. Like I said, I always knew he was special.

“Put my hands under your shirt?” Came his reply, and I may have never been a profiler, but I could hear, behind the confusion, fear of my rejection plaguing his mind.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips grazing his cheek where I placed a soft kiss. Spencer’s grip on me tightened as I moved towards his ear, subconsciously pulling my hips down onto him. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”

“You!” The exclamation was a shout mixed with a gasp once I sunk my teeth into his ear lobe. At first, I had not thought to take Spencer’s words so seriously. We were in the heat of the moment, hands grasping onto one another and lips finding skin, but then my sweet boy pushed me far back only so he could look in my eyes with the confidence of a man who just won the lottery to state. “I want you.”

There were multiple things I took note of when looking down at Spencer. The first being that he had only taken his eyes off of my own in favor of glancing down at my lips, then back at me before raising his eyebrows in silent question. The second was that he had not stopped squirming underneath me, the hard on trapped in his work slacks having to be uncomfortable by now, and the every few seconds he found friction against my own clothed center could not have been helping as much as he needed.

The third, and final thing I noticed buried deep into blown pupils and wide, boyish eyes was the lust, desperation, the need for me the same I held for him. Spencer Reid wanted nothing more in this moment than to show me he was a good boy, a special boy.

“Are you sure?” I barely got through the last word before Spencer started nodding. “I need words, pretty boy.”

“Yes,” his tone was already breathy, and we haven’t even started. “Yes, please. I’m ready.”

I didn’t wait, grabbing a hold of my sweet boy’s cheeks and bringing his face down to meet our lips. The kiss was slow, passionate of course, but I wanted to take my time with him. The way I see this going is spending carefully calculated time on every part of his body, worshipping him and giving him all of my love in the form of soft bites and deliberate touches. Spencer Reid was handing me all of him, and I would be foolish not to return the favor.

Spencer and I were not going into this blind, because no matter how embarrassed he got, we somehow ended up having a very enlightening conversation in the past, even if at first it had started as a joke.

“Not everything Freud has said in his life was completely untrue,” was what started the argument. Spencer, in his oh so need to discredit the behaviorists and psychoanalysts of the past, jumped at the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to let him this time. “While he may have gone about it the… wrong way, Freud was onto something.”

I had unbeknownst to Spencer got up from my seat, and was quietly tiptoeing over to him. “You don’t agree that you wouldn enjoy calling me Mommy in bed, pretty boy?”

“I-I um…” Is what ended the argument.

I pulled back, admiring his swollen lips and eyes fluttering open before pulling my shirt over my head, giving Spencer a full view of my now bare chest. The only way I could describe his face was similar to what I would imagine someone’s expression would be if they had made a groundbreaking discovery. His eyes grew wide and his jaw went slack in surprise, plus he didn’t hesitate to shift his gaze to my breasts. I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my waist, fingertips itching to move up my body to feel more of me.

“Can- can I touch them?” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the body part in question. Spencer was still looking at my chest in awestruck, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel the same way I thought of him.; beautiful, worshipable, special.

I nodded my head, grabbing onto Spencer’s wrists where his hands still remained at my sides and slowly dragged them up to chest. There was no more hesitation, he pressed his palms onto my breasts and grabbed them, pushing them together before kneading them.

“Oh my god, they’re s-so soft” he gasped, eyes blowing wide.“I w-want you. Please, M-”

Spencer stopped himself, and I could feel the muscles in his body tensing at the accidental slip of the name I so desperately wanted to pull from him now that I knew he felt the same about it.

“What was that?” I hummed against him, starting to softly grind our aching centers against each other, eliciting the sweetest moans from the sweetest boy while he continued to palm my breasts.

“Please. Mommy, please.” And there it was, my title for the evening and the reason for the growing wetness at my core.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” The buttons on his shirt were harder to undo than I would like to admit, his fingers that have moved on to tweak my nipples pulling my concentration and causing me to moan quietly as I worked. Eventually I accomplished getting his shirt open, and he helped me to push it off his shoulders and off of him.

I ran my hand down his chest, relishing the whimpers falling from his lips and my featherlight touch traveling further to the waistband of his pants.

“Bedroom,” I whispered, attempting to remove myself from his lap in favor of moving this party to a more comfortable place than the couch. Spencer had other plans.

“Wait,” he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down on top of him. “I-I like it here.”

“On the couch, pretty boy?” It wasn’t that the position we were in wasn’t feasible, but this was Spencer’s first time. I wanted to make it as special as I could, starting with an actual bed.

“I want to be close to you.” If his words didn’t pull at my heartstrings, the way he looked down instead of in my eyes again did.

“Okay,” I agreed, and it was the truth, because the warmth spreading through me at the feeling of our bodies pressed so closely together was intoxicating. Spencer went to go unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. Not because I didn’t want them off, but because he hadn’t realized that my plans for him included him sitting there and looking pretty like he always does. “Let me take care of you, sweet boy.”

I finished the job Spencer had started, getting up to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I heard him gasp at the sight of me now in only a pink thong before reaching out and making grabby hands at me. Instead of sitting back on his lap, I sunk to my knees on the floor, repeating the process on his work slacks and stripping him down to his boxers.

“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down his thighs in the most soothing manner. He responded with a hard nod and an ‘Yes, Mommy,’ shifting his hips closer to my hands in hopes that I would touch him where he craved the most. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I didn’t use my hands, however, lowering my face to where there was an evident wet spot of precum on his boxers and placed a gentle kiss through the fabric on the tip of his dick.

Immediately his hands shot out to grab onto the sides of my face, forcing me away from his member to look up at him insead.

“I- I’m not going to last long like that,” he whispered. “Please, I need you, Mommy, please.”

I stood up, returning to my position perched onto his lap and smashing my lips to his. This kiss was much different than the ones we’ve shared previously, it was rushed, uncalculated and heavy. Tongues fought against each other and I caught his little whimpers in my mouth every time our cores rubbed against each other.

I grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, asking one last time if he was sure. When I got his permission, I pulled them down to reveal himself to me, and my god was he beautiful. The tip was red and leaking precum, and I used my thumb to gather some and bring it to my mouth. Spencer’s jaw went slack again, watching me suck his cum off my digit and not taking my eyes off his own. I shifted once again to hover over him, pulling my panties to the side.

“Are you ready?” I asked, grabbing his hard cock and readying the tip to my entrance. He attempted to buck his hips up and enter me, but I continued to tease him by rubbing my wetness over him without entering just yet.

“Yes. Please, Mommy.” I sunk down, reveling in the way his eyes grew wide and his hands shot up to grab onto any part of me. Slowly, I inched down, feeling the stretch he provided and we both were moaning at the feeling.

“Is this okay?” I asked once more, getting a nod and a gasp at the feeling of me around him in return. His hips were trying to buck up into me, but I wouldn’t let him, lifting up slowly and slamming back down to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” he praised once again, screwing his eyes shut and panting. I picked up a rhythm bouncing on his cock with feaverish intent, neither of us were going to last long, both of us hypersensitive to each other.

Spencer opened his eyes, and couldn’t find where to look. He started with my breasts bouncing in his face with my increased speed, and moved on to where our bodies met, watching himself disappear into me. Lastly, he stopped at my face, finding me already staring down at him with my mouth agape and mewls escaping me.

From there we gazed into each other’s eyes, Spencer not holding back any of his sweet moans and gasps that sounded like garbled versions of my name. The knot in my stomach tightened further when I shifted slightly and felt his tip graze my sweet spot. He must have been close to, his hips thrusting up softly to meet my own in an attempt to chase his high. I reached down to rub my clit, wanting to fall off the edge together.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he panted out, and I clenched around him at the sound of him whimpering. “Ah- ah ah, Mommy please!”

I increased the pressure on my clit, the coil in my stomach reaching its end when I shouted “Cum with me, pretty boy.”

Spencer’s hands gripped onto my waist with bruising pressure as we reached our highs together, crashing down with a shout of each other’s name as I felt his cum cover my pulsing walls. The feeling was indescribable, extending my orgasm and milking him for everything he has.

I slumped forward, resting my head against his sweaty shoulder as we attempted to catch our breaths. Spencer’s arms wrapped around me fully, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into my neck, the sentiment making me smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked once our breathing returned to normal and the cloudiness of my post organsm brain melted. He just pulled me impossibly closer, laying kisses on the expanse of my neck he could reach.

“I’m more than okay. That was- that was-”

“Yeah, I know.” I giggled at his awestruck tone, mimicking his movements and nuzzling deep in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent.

Like I said, Spencer Reid was a special kind of man.

___

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002 @calm-and-doctor @pieceofried @mermaidshmari @missyoumaybank @seasonfivereid @no-honey-no @muffin-cup @90spumkin @spenxerslut

1K notes · View notes

junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

Text

warm embraces & sudden kisses | ot7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | drabbles/headcannons ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ: “ENHA REACTION TO YOU KISSING THEM OUT OF NO WHERE OR JOW THE CUDDLE WITH YOU PLS AND THANK YOU 🙏” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ:

since this is the 100th post on this blog I decided to do an ot7 one

simultaneously, this was a request so it worked out !!

anon said or but I decided to try & write both in here :$ so there’s kinda 2 mini scenarios for each member

also i wrote this on my phone in my notes while i was out today which is why everything’s lowercase :)

anon if you’d like me to rewrite this less as scenarios and more as bullet points just lmk!

Lee Heeseung

[a light’s on in the kitchen]

you wake up with the feeling of warmth no longer around you. looking around, you see that heeseung’s no longer in bed with you. your hand makes it way to your phone on your nightstand, 3:07 am greets your eyes and you hear faint sounds from outside the room. you get up with a yawn, the haze of sleepiness still on you as you make your way around the apartment the two of you share, a light’s on in the kitchen. he’s making ramen, you think to yourself. he stands tall by the stove, your footsteps are quiet as you hear him singing a song. when you get to him, your arms arm around his waist as he turns around to greet you, you jump up to give him a quick kiss, intending to meet his lips but because of how tall he is, your lips meet his cheek. he smiles, pulls you in closer to him, tilting up your chin but teases you by pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[finally home]

you’re nestled up on the couch while a movie plays on the tv. today wasn’t a good day, to say the least. you woke up late which didn’t give you a chance to eat breakfast with heeseung, when you ordered lunch the fries were burnt and the food undercooked, and when you got home heeseung texted you to let you know that practice was running a little late which meant he wouldn’t get to have dinner with you. your eyes stayed settled on the tv until the sound of the apartment door greets your ears, bringing you out of that movie marathon haze you were trapped in. heeseung smiles as he sees you, makes his way to you, as he hands you a takeout bag.

“i bought some food on my way home, i’ll change and then we can eat, yeah?” he notices that you’re sad but doesn’t press you on about it. you nod, taking the bag from him. when he comes back, the two of you eat while a new movie is running. when you’ve finished all the food, his arm wraps around your shoulders and his head rests on top of yours.

“you ok?” he asks. his embrace is comforting and safe, similar to what it feels like when a blanket is draped over you just before you fall asleep.

“i am now that you’re finally home.”

rest of the boys under the cut !!

Park Jongseong / Jay

[flustered and red]

jay’s making dinner in the kitchen while you’re setting the table. you hear him chattering, more to himself than anything as he tries to make dinner the best that it can be. with how busy his schedule was and how much you’ve been swamped with your own work, the two of you haven’t had much time for each other. so, the you both having a free day today was something you were definitely going to take full advantage of. after setting the table, you head into the kitchen to see him slicing up lettuce for a last minute salad. you let out a smile as you see him make a honey based dressing and decided to surprise him by hugging him from behind. usually, he does it to you. despite his confident appearance and composure, you can already tell that he’s getting all flustered and red.

“Yah, who said you can sneak up on me like that!” he says, but makes no effort to pull away. You move so that you’re in front of him,

“If that’s how you react when I hug, how will you react when I do this?” Going on your tiptoes, your arms make their way around his neck as you feel the softness of his lips on yours. Guess honey was good as moisturizer…

[i built us a house]

jay was sitting in his gaming chair, his gaming set up in its own room while you were in the living room doing your own thing. while you were typing away on your laptop you hear your name being called, causing you to look up.

“i wanna show you something,” he said.

“i’m busy, hon,” you reply.

“real quick, i promise.” you sigh, knowing damn well jay wasn’t going to leave you alone until you went with him. so, following him into his game room he sat on his chair.

“why am i here?” you asked. he patted his lap, motioning for you to sit on him. as you did, one of his hands moves your hair to the other side while an arm stays settled on you. you can feel his breath on your neck, the butterflies in your stomach now doing somersaults.

“i built us a house.” your eyes look at the screen to see it on his minecraft server as his character walks around. you smile, turn your head so you’re looking at him,

“this is our house?”

“one day i’ll make it happen in real life.” despite the large promise, deep down you knew jay was going to find some way to make it a reality.

Sim Jaeyun / Jake

[just a little more]

you were on the living room couch, layla’s head on your lap while you pet her. as you do, you’re typing on your phone with your free hand. jake makes his presence known by sitting next to you, his head popping into your line of sight. you set your phone aside, smiling as you pat his hair. he frowns,

“you’ve been giving layla your attention all day, what about me?”

“layla’s cuter than you,” you reply with a teasing smile. he frowns, sighing slightly as he looks at the sight of all your attention on layla. jake heads to your room, glad that you loved layla as much as he did but wished you loved him just a little more. you head to the room, seeing jake seated by the edge of the bed, you settled yourself so that you were sitting on his lap, your legs around his waist.

“i want your attention too.”

“someone’s jealous.”

“naur, i’m not jealous,” he says, looking away. you lean forwards, pressing a kiss to his lips that lingers on for a few seconds longer than it should.

“yaur, ya are,” you tease. he smiles, kisses you again as his grip on you tighten slightly,

“it got you here, didn’t it?”

[a pair of fuzzy socks]

you’re half asleep when you feel warmth to your feet and suddenly a pair of fuzzy socks have been placed over them. you say nothing, wanting to go back to sleep more than anything. a few seconds later, you feel a dip on the bed, two actually, and you’re aware of both jake and layla around you. jake lifts up your head gently. you hear him whisper,

“layla, don’t wake up your mother,” and the feeling brings tingles to your heart, fireworks spreading throughout your body. he snuggles closer to you, intertwining his legs with yours as he traces random patterns on your back just before falling asleep.

Park Sunghoon

[cold]

for as long as he could remember, park sunghoon has lived life cold. on the ice he was cold. towards people he acted cold. you entering his life was like the sun rising after a freezing winter night. you were the heat that rid himself of the icicles stuck to his cold exterior. you melted the snowflakes of winter and turned them into roses of spring. you were the warmth he never knew he was missing. he was in your apartment, washing the dishes after you made lunch. you headed to him placing your hand on his arm. he looked over to you, smiling as you hugged his side. you leaned up as you kissed him, he couldn’t hold back his small laugh. as he felt your lips on his, heat rose to his cheeks. but despite the shyness in him about to take over, he fights it, leaning into you and kissing you once more.

[cold hands]

sunghoon has always had cold hands. and whenever he cuddled with you, he made sure that you knew it. the two of you were joking, running around the apartment when you and sunghoon both ended up on the bed. a glint appeared in his eyes, a plan forming in his head. the tips of his fingers met your stomach as you started bursting out in laugher.

“HOON WHY DO YOU HAVE COLD HANDS,” you yelled as you tried to fight him off. he smiled, vampire teeth showing in all their glory as he settled next to you in bed. his hand rested on your stomach as he brought you to him, his cold feet pressing to yours.

“you’re my personal heater,” he said, pulling you closer to him.

Kim Sunoo

[a little too close]

sunoo has always been clingy around you. some days, he’ll grab your hand out of nowhere and start fiddling with your fingers. at the most random times, he’ll play with your hair and think about how to style it. being in sunoo’s embrace is something that you’ve always welcomed. you were sort of the opposite, accepting and welcoming his touch but never really initiating it. until, today that is. you noticed someone talking to sunoo getting a little too close to him. you didn’t think much of it knowing how friendly sunoo was towards people and how others naturally gravitated to him. but, you couldn’t help yourself when you made your way to them and held onto sunoo’s hand, practically staring down the other person. sunoo smiled, intertwining your hands together while bringing you into the conversation. unsurprisingly, the outsider moved closer and without even thinking, you kissed sunoo’s cheek. his eyes slightly got wide as he looked at you, but it was an action he was glad for. in return, he kissed your cheek with a smile and couldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the day.

[a tough day]

you were having somewhat of a tough day, having cramps, on and off headaches, and an annoying ringing in your ears that you just couldn’t get rid of. sunoo came home to find you layed on the couch, his heart breaking at the sight. he got some things and brought it to the living room,

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“spa day!” he replied excitedly. he rubbed lotion on your hands, placed cucumbers on top of your eyes, and combed out your hair. the night came to an end with you and sunoo laying on the couch together, him patting in the face mask then rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. with sunoo came a bubble of warmth you never wanted to leave.

Yang Jungwon

[make me]

jungwon’s in a playful mood today and with that playful mood comes teasing you. you’re in the living room where he decided to grab your sketchbook and hold it up above your head.

“won, give it back!” you exclaimed in annoyance, glaring at him. he has the audacity to look amused and he tells you,

“make me.” he’s always found joy in teasing you for your height and right now was no different. a plan forms in your head as you take some steps backwards. as you practically run to him, his eyes widen with fear as he’s forced to let go of your sketchbook to catch you and you end up latched onto him like a koala. you kiss him, in those few seconds the entire world stops and it’s as if no one but him exists. the kiss lingers on a second or two longer than you intended as jungwon’s grip on you tightens so that you don’t fall. on his face you see him smiling and those dimples that you’ve always loved appear. jungwon was never good at hiding his emotions, his love for you no different. you close your eyes as he leans down, you expect a kiss returned but instead, he kisses the top of your head. lightly flicking your forehead gently,

“that’s what you get for being short,” he says.

[i'm here]

with all his responsibilities and the things jungwon needs to take care of at such a young age, coming home to you is the one constant in his life. to him, the second he’s able to wrap his arms around you, revel in the scent of your shampoo, and gets to hold you, everything is just complete. at 1:06 am, he came home. it was late, he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. he headed into the room you two shared, only to see you still awake.

“you’re up?” he asked.

“no, i’m asleep,” you reply sarcastically. he sighs, setting into bed next to you, “someone’s tired,” you said.

“i want cuddles,” he mutters unable to hide his need for your affection. you shift and his head lays on your shoulder. you run your hand through his hair while you kiss the top of his head,

“i’m here.”

Nishimura Riki / Ni-ki

[bungeo to his ppang]

more than anything, ni-ki liked to be by your side. whether it was while he was watching something on his phone, showing you a new dance routine, or asking you to dye his hair, as long as you were just with him, he was happy. sleeping is something that ni-ki has always enjoyed, how could he not when it grants him a few moments of peace before a busy day? the two of you are in the car, he rests his head on your shoulders. unlike normal, he doesn’t fall asleep this time. he pretends to, he closes his eyes, stays still while enjoying your warmth, but he’s not actually asleep. you didn’t seem to notice, he feels you messing with his hair a bit, something he’s never minded as long as it was with you. he hears you talking about how cute he is, practically fangirling over him. he feels you kiss the top of his head lightly,

“sleep well, ni-kitty,” he hears you whisper. he doesn’t move, doesn’t show any sign that he’s affected by your sudden actions of love. but deep down, he feels a happiness around you that’s greater than how he feels when he’s on stage. when he performs he enjoys the thousands of eyes that watch him but all he thinks about are how your eyes look at him with adoration and pride. it was in this moment that he knew, you were the bungeo to his ppang.

[take a break]

after dinner, you’re sitting on the floor of the table in front of the tv, trying to get some work done. suddenly, you feel a weight on your lap. you look down to see ni-ki’s head on your lap, his eyes closed but he’s clearly still awake.

“yah, get off,” you said, slightly lifting up your leg.

“no.” you roll your eyes, deciding not to pay attention to him as you go back to sleep our work. it seems that ni-ki had other plans as he took your one of your hand and starting fiddling with it.

“ni-ki, i’m busy.”

“take a break,” he said. you look down at ni-ki… how could you refuse? you put away your things, shifting so that your full attention was now on him. he smiled up at you, fiddling with the edge of your clothes while saying the most random things that made you laugh.

↬ ᴀ/ɴ pt. 2:

if anyone’s read up to this point pls lmk how it was, i’m not really good with ot7 scenarios typa things 😭

❦ written by riri @enhykkul | blog masterlist

requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis

1K notes · View notes

wincestisasincest · 2 years

Text

Waves on the Shore - Chapter 13: He Who Fights Monsters

Viktor x Fem!Reader slow burn enemies to lovers

x posted on ao3 // WOTS masterlist

Summary: Jayce and Viktor questioning you about your weapon (made with farm-fresh Hextech) is the only thing keeping you from going to jail for science crimes. You and Viktor are literally at each others throats lmao. Also you’re from Bilgewater because pirates are fucking rad

Notes: Broskis I'm sorry this one took like over a month ektjherkjth and also this one is not very proofread so sorry if it's kind of bad. Also this fic is officially over 100k words lol. Oh also we still have a discord, lemme know if u wanna join hekrthrek jt

Word Count: 11.9k

Tags: @edenstarkk @chosomybelovedcurse @dedicated2viktor @doctorho @yeehawbvby @arcaneparx @the-lake-is-calling @beeblybub

Mentions of: Nothing I think?

Triggers: Everything from the last chapter is discussed and recalled here, so… that. Also, cops, cop questioning, painkillers, drinks being drugged, booze, vomit, vertigo, guns, and language

“I’ve seen who you are in the dark. And you’re a monster.”

It’s funny. You’ve heard that word a lot - “monster.” You were familiar with every usage of the word before you could load a canon by yourself; from the scariest beasts of the deep to the ruthless criminals lording over your island. You thought that you were immune to its impact.

You were wrong.

Adrenaline fanned from your heart to your fingertips, telling you to move, fight, run, or for gods’ sake do something because you couldn’t take this straight on. It didn’t matter if you were the monster or the innocent, you could not stay trapped in this stupid, shitty loop.

And suddenly, you understood why you’d come back.

There he was, narrowing his eyes at you like a viper. But you clenched your teeth and inhaled through your nose, willing away the hollowing feeling in your chest that tried to tell you this was just a bad dream.

You would show him what monsters could do.

*****

When Viktor woke, his pulse was eating him alive.

He tilted his head, and a seedy whine pounded behind his eyes as his dress shirt pinched his arms. The blinding, sterile light kept trying to infiltrate the cool oasis of his closed eyelids.

Hangover? No, it shouldn’t be this bad. What had he even-

Oh. Right. Enforcers. He remembered those. He could recognize the outlines of their helmets even through the blurry snowfall. But there was someone else... a warm arm around his waist that didn’t let go until medical personnel had whisked him away. That must have been you.

You- where were you?

He sat up and opened his eyes.

Through the ringing in his ears he could hear heels clacking in the hallway and sweat sloshing inside his clothes. Tender bruises and stinging cuts made themselves known as his body woke up. The headache only thickened.

He was in Piltover Medical Center, laid out like roadkill on a clean, stiff mattress in their emergency clinic. It was brighter than it had any right to be, with crisp white walls, shiny medical equipment, and humming fluorescent lights.

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to soothe the wave of nausea.

“Don’t fight it,” Jayce said from his left, “happened to me too. If you’re gonna vomit, better to get it over with.”

“Good morning as well,” Viktor’s throat was dry.

He dragged his legs over the side as a fuzzy column of brown skin nudged the trashcan towards him. He clamped its sides and nearly fell in as he threw up.

Acid seared his tongue and pungency burned through the congestion in his sinuses; welcome back to reality, they said.

Something glass clinked. Viktor hung his head over the trashcan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and permitting himself a minute to regret waking up.

“Caitlyn came by, but we were both still out,” Jayce set a glass of water on Viktor’s side of their shared nightstand, “If she heard, then everyone else probably did too.”

Finally, Viktor willed his head up and got a look at him. He was on the other bed in the room, shirtless, with his legs stretched out and his journal open on his lap. Bandages capped his shoulder and a dark purple cloud festered around his eye. His hair was, oddly, the most surprising; spiked, sweaty, and overall messier than Viktor had ever seen it.

Viktor couldn’t imagine that he looked much better.

“How long have you been up?” Viktor gulped the water, noticing one of his own notebooks and a note from Caitlyn perched on the nightstand.

“Just a half hour. Enforcers came by and asked me some stuff. Said they’ll come back for you.”

Viktor propped his elbows on his knees.

“Did they say anything else?”

“About what?”

As if there was anything Viktor would be wondering about besides the third human life that was terribly injured.

He clicked his tongue, too tired to figure out if Jayce was playing dumb or if he’d actually forgotten about you. But Jayce wasn’t the forgetful type, and he didn’t play dumb unless the situation was dire. Something was wrong here, but Viktor wouldn’t press him. Not yet.

“About anything. I’m still not sure what exactly, eh... happened.”

“Yeah. Neither are they.”

Viktor hated how unclear his picture of last night was. The drugs and the booze already wiped half of it from hi smind, and the remaining flashes of consciousness were focused on the most irrelevant things.

Your hands loading that gun. Your eyes screwing shut as you bit your tongue. Your hot breath against his cheek as you checked his head for any damage.

“Well, at least give me something to work with,” Viktor grumbled, falling back onto the mattress.

Jayce fidgeted with his fingers, squeezing them anxiously.

“All they’ve got so far is a timeline. We were drinking, those guys came, at some point we were drugged, the bar cleared out, I went into the alleyway and got the shit beat out of me while they were getting ready to haul you away in the bar.”

Jayce looked down.

“And then?”

“Well, y’know,” Jayce swallowed, “then my... assailants got, uh, taken out. Then yours did. Then one of mine did... again. Apparently the autopsy of that last guy was, uh... well, anyway, then the Enforcers showed up.”

“Yeah. Some help they were,” Viktor paused, deciding that now would be the time to press, since Jayce was clearly intent on pretending you had never existed, “and then we came here?”

“Yup.”

“Just us?”

“In here? Yeah.”

“In here as in this room, or in here as in PMC?”

“...this room.”

“Jayce.”

“Yeah?” Jayce gave him a strained smile.

“Where is Penny?”

Jayce’s entire chest deflated when he sighed.

“Yeah, I figured you’d ask about that sooner or later. But, listen, I wanna talk to you about something first.”

“Why are you being so evasive? What... what happened?” Viktor raised a stern eyebrow, “Is she-”

“No, she’s not dead, Vik. She’s fine - in one of the other rooms. But please- humor me, will you?” Jayce’s puppy dog eyes were indomitable, “And then you can go see her.”

Viktor leaned back on his hands, studying his partner. The fog cleared from his head and he realized that Jayce was shaking. Every part of his body twitched or trembled or tightened, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and starting to crumble under the weight.

“What’s on your mind?” Viktor asked softly.

“I...” Jayce wrung his fingers around his bracelet, “I think we should put Hextech on hold for a bit.”

The dryness in the corners of Viktor’s eyes cracked when he widened them.

“We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Yes, I know,” Jayce’s fidgeting was persistent, “but things have changed.”

“How so?”

Jayce frowned.

“How s- Vik, you were nearly kidnapped last night, and I was beaten within an inch of my life. That’s how so,” he exhaled, “and don’t give me that ‘the lives of people are endangered every day’ story.”

“But they are,” Viktor’s blood pressure rose, “and we have just made a major breakthrough. You really wish to stop now?”

“What if... we’re not so lucky next time?” Jayce winced as he briefly lose control of his volume, shying away from his point.

“It was not luck that we survived,” Viktor said, “it was Penny’s intervention.”

“Yeah, about that...” Jayce gave up on looking Viktor in the eye, “the Enforcers aren’t as, uh, convinced as we are.”

Viktor scoffed, pushing his hand through his hair. Of course they weren’t, gods forbid someone different did anything in this damn city.

“She’s not in jail again, is she?”

“No. Mel got her bail...”

“But she was going to be?!” Viktor barked, furrowing his brow, “How could they possibly justify that?”

“They think it’s weird that Penny was the only one who wasn’t drugged, and... I mean, I can’t really say that they’re wr-”

“Stop,” Viktor put his hand up, “you cannot believe that Penny is responsible for the attack?”

“No! Obviously not,” Jayce splayed his fingers out, “I don’t... look, I like Penny too, okay? I don’t think she did anything malicious on purpose. I’m just trying to tell you that we’re involved in something really dangerous here and this goes to show how little we know about it. Five people are dead.”

“You care more about your own security than all of the Undercity or Ionia.”

“Do not put words into my mouth. It’s one thing to be dedicated, but we can’t just go putting ourselves in danger. If we die, then Hextech is gone forever,” Jayce said darkly.

“But we didn’t die-”

“Because we have a fucking murderer on our staff! That’s not a good thing,” Jayce gestured violently at him.

Viktor parted his lips cautiously. The crack of Jayce’s voice, the unsteadiness in his usually confident forearms, the peakiness baked into his expression as he looked through Viktor - Viktor hadn’t seen Jayce like this before, but there was no doubting it.

“You’re... you’re afraid of her,” Viktor said.

“I- not of her,” Jayce sniffled, “just... of what she did. And I know she had to, I know,” he scolded himself, “but...”

Jayce rubbed his nose. The only other time Viktor had seen Jayce’s eyes get this watery was when he’d laughed too hard. The contrast between then and now was sobering.

“I keep seeing them,, Vik,” Jayce confessed, head in his hands, “the bodies, I keep- they’re in my head and they won’t leave and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

VIktor only had scraps of what they looked like - their body fluids weaving through the cobblestones in the street and melted flesh peeling from metal bones.

“I refuse to let us end up like that,” Jayce’s throat trembled.

The mental image was there before Viktor could stop it. His partner, his friend, his best friend, with his throat slit; the only moving part of him left was the blood oozing from the thin red line.

Viktor knew that wouldn’t happen. He knew that he had nothing to worry about, and even if he did, worrying rarely helped anything. He knew that.

He also knew that no logic could stop the sinking feeling in his chest when he saw Jayce break down.

Against his better judgment and moral impulse, he grabbed his cane from against the night stand, nudged Jayce’s knee, and quietly said that “we can slow down Hextech if you’d like,” all the while fighting the frustration simmering at his core.

Neither he or Jayce were particularly up for conversation after that, so he left to find you.

He didn’t even want to see you anymore, but in this awful mood he was in, he was bound to snap at someone, and he’d rather it be the person who already thought he was a waste of space than Jayce or an Enforcer.

In fact, Viktor found that he wouldn’t mind snapping at you right now, though by the gods he could not fathom why.

Perhaps it was that he knew you’d only be mildly inconvenienced by Hextech’s hiatus. You weren’t trying to hide it - you’d made it very clear that you thought their goals were nothing more than a foolish boon to their egos. Viktor had long since decided that he didn’t care about what you thought as long as you did your work, now, it made his blood boil.

Of course you did what you had to. Of course you planned those attacks. Of course you never meant for things to end up this way.

And, of course, it had to end with Jayce being traumatized and Hextech being needlessly stalled.

He was being unfair. You didn’t deserve this. Not after everything you’d done.

But he couldn’t help the feeling.

A similarly confusing feeling bubbled in his chest when he floated in the doorway to your hospital room. You were still, fast asleep, though you wouldn’t be moving even if you were awake with your wrist cuffed to the bed like that.

And you looked so small.

Not physically - if anything, the swelling in your nose made you look bigger. They’d straightened it and kept it in place with a loose bandaged, but the darkened, irritated skin and indigo bruises pooling beneath your eyes betrayed the nastiness of the initial impact. Your left ear was swaddled in bandages, still very much half of its original size. No essential parts of the ear seemed to be damaged but it looked... well, it looked awful. The rest of the damage was covered by a standard issue PMC blanket.

He’d never seen you sleep before. Your overflowing personality, the one that made you the godsdamned force of nature that could bring anything to its knees, was kept at bay by the thoughtless rise and fall of your chest. The greasy hair and injuries and bloody clothes were a part of your image, but without you being awake to act the part, you just looked like a person who had been through a lot.

You and no one else against the world. That could make anyone feel small.

Viktor’s face soured at the thought of your self image. You chose to wear your violence and selfishness and apathy as badges of honor, along with your hatred of Viktor. And he was so ready to look past all of that, just for last night, because... of something.

And then, somewhere in the cocktail of anger and confusion and fondness, it clicked.

You weren’t thinking about him when you saved his life, you were just being yourself.

You didn’t care about Viktor. And why the hell would you, if the rest of Piltover couldn’t be bothered? You were becoming like them - helping Viktor because he helped you and suited your needs, not because you believed in him, his ideals, or Hextech. Viktor should’ve been used to this.

It was only human. And that’s all you were. A Bilgewater spitfire with a deep longing for the world that she came from, jumping at the first excuse to indulge in it.

Viktor could only blame himself. And it ached as he considered just how desperate he must’ve been to look for deeper meaning in what you did.

“‘Scuse me, sir.”

Viktor jumped. An Enforcer, with a cinderblock jaw and wispy sideburns, materialized next to him, his palms out.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya,” he smiled apologetically, “I was just wonderin’ if you were the, uh, other victim of the attack last night? I ain’t on the case, I’m just here to take her cuffs off” he chuckled, jingling his keys.

“Yes,” Viktor smoothed out his wrinkled pants, “yes, that’s me.”

“Ah. Well, good to see you on your feet then,” he slapped Viktor in the back with his sweaty hand and turned to observe you, “I heard she was quite the killer.”

You gave no false pretense about what you were. Building you up into something you weren’t was his mistake.

But now he had to see you for what you were.

“She was,” Viktor said, “brutal. Without remorse. Didn’t even bother with talking, just went straight for the vitals.”

He didn’t give you a final glance as he parted from the Enforcer, determined to not make that mistake again.

*****

Unlike rain, which evaporated quickly in the sun, snow stuck around. After you were discharged from the hospital, you were in a completely different Piltover. The air hovering above the smooth white blanket was clean, numb, and slow, entirely jarring after everything else had happened so fast.

Nothing felt real, outside in the world or inside your head.

But you didn’t really mind the effect. Apparently, you weren’t supposed to use the good painkillers into tomorrow morning, after all the alcohol was out of your system, unless you wanted to throw up your guts onto the street. If the hurt subsided, then you could stay in the unreality until then.

Or maybe not.

“C’mon, you paid my bail,” you reluctantly plopped into the spindly chair, “and it’s not because we’re great friends. So what’s the catch?”

Coming into the warmth of Mel’s office just as you grew accustomed to the outside made the red in her paintings eerie. Though you normally liked her office, one of the few places truly rich in color in her marble palace, the contrast with the blank slate of Piltovian winter reminded you that it was just as manufactured as everything else.

“There’s no ‘catch,’” Mel folded her hands, “as an investor in Hextech, it’s my job to look out for the best interests of the company. I think we’ve all learned by now that having you in jail waiting for a sham trial is not productive.”

“So there’s nothing that you want from me, then?”

“I didn’t say that,” Mel picked at her nail, “I understand that the Enforcer’s narrative of last night’s events is inaccurate. I’m not surprised - Enforcers are only interested in maintaining the image of Piltover for the people of Piltover.”

“Sounds like you.”

“Maybe,” she eyed you curiously, “but I’m also interested in the truth. Which is something we share, isn’t it?”

It was rare that your goals aligned with powerful people, and though you were becoming more practiced in it the longer you stayed in Piltover, trepidation stalked every offer that someone like Mel gave you. If enemies can be temporary, then so are allies, and sooner or later, the good will of someone who does anything to be above others will run out.

But she could help you. She could help Jayce and Viktor. Regardless of the motive, you needed that.

As sure as that knowing smirk dug further into her cheek, you knew that there was no good will here; just business. Good, you thought, at least you understand each other.

“Fine,” you rolled your neck, “so, what, you want me to start from the beginning?”

And you did.

You rolled your head back and stared at the ceiling lights like you were in a therapist’s office, and told her the entire story as it actually happened, making especially biting remarks at the Enforcer’s faulty logic along the way.

They were claiming that, not only were you the one who had drugged Viktor and Jayce, but that you had pre-planned the entire incident in order to murder five sailors on shore leave. Their “evidence” was that, not only were you the sole undrugged person, but that once you were aware of the drug’s chemical makeup via Jayce and Viktor’s blood test, it was a substance you recognized - Whalefall, something that literally every Rat recognized.

Yet, you still had no explanation for why everything happened the way that it did; why you weren’t drugged, why they were after Viktor, why they beat the shit out of Jayce, why anything. The Enforcers didn’t really have one either, but their blanket appeal to Piltover’s xenophobia combined with their “trustworthiness” was enough to negate that.

Even if they hadn’t actually seen anything happen.

“Honestly, if that’s their response time, I’m surprised any crime in Piltover gets dealt with,” you grumbled.

“That’s not their response time,” Mel said, “they’re usually much faster. But there’s a silver lining - inadequate Enforcer response is probably going to be the main argument for your innocence in the trial.”

“Really?” you crossed your arms, “What about Jayce and Viktor’s testimony? I... well, I haven’t actually talked to them yet, but shouldn’t that be exonerating?”

“They’re not using their testimony.”

“What?!” you sat forward, “Why the hell not?! That was like... the one thing I had going for me.”

“Well, the real answer is that it destroys any chance of making you the scapegoat, but what the Enforcers are saying is that the drugs found in their system make their memories unreliable.”

“But- but that’s bullshit,” you snapped, “Everyone knows that Whalefall makes it hard to remember stuff, but it doesn’t make up false memories. Anything they can recall is still true.”

You’d already spent too much time wondering if Viktor recalled how close you were when you gave him a once over. You weren’t sure if it was embarrassing or exciting or what, all you knew was that the image of him, half dazed, but eyes full of reverence that no one had ever given you before, made your stomach flip.

“I’m sure, but that’s not how this game is played,” Mel said grimly, moving her hands below the desk, “I have some things of yours.”

Your face perked as she rattled inside the drawer, returning to the surface with your knife, ruefully caked in dry blood, and a silver pistol. Oh shit - the pistol.

“Gods, do they just let anyone in the evidence locker?” you grumbled.

“This pistol doesn’t belong to you,” Mel observed, picking it up loosely, as though it were a museum artifact and not an item designed to take a life, “why did you have it?”

“Heh, you’re already doing better than the Enforcers,” you said, “what gave it away?”

“You’re too poor to afford this.”

“Thanks.”

She was right, of course. The model was, at the very least, unique; you’d never quite seen a gun that looked or behaved like it before. It was pure silver, with svelte engravings curling from the handle to the barrel, and while it looked like a revolver, with a rotating cylinder in the center, there were no slots to load bullets, leading you to believe it functioned like a pistol.

“I guess it was just too interesting to leave,” you shrugged, “Damn thing didn’t fire when I tried to shoot it, so I wanted to take it apart and see what was going on.”

“I see,” she brushed her thumb on the barrel, “and this knife was already yours?”

“Yeah.”

You reached out, but, your fingers inches away from the cold metal, Mel’s hand smoothly came down on top of it.

“Actually... there is a catch for this one.”

You looked at her from under your brow, exhausted from the theatrics. She noticed, but she continued coyly without a care.

“The Enforcers get in the way of Hextech’s work and have done a fairly poor job thus far at resolving this pirate issue. Yet, now more than ever, Hextech needs a guardian,” she delicately set the pistol on the table, “One that is equipped to handle both problems.”

“Oh, I see,” your eyelids went slack, “listen, I appreciate the offer, but, like, I was barely qualified to deal with what just happened. Hell, I almost left Jayce and Viktor, I only decided to come back at the last minute, and even then, I got...” you gestured to your face, “all of this. So, thank you, but no thank you. It was a one time thing.”

“Well, if you’d consider making it not a one time thing, I’d be willing to help,” she was toying with the hilt of your knife, yet somehow kept her digits clean of any blood.

There was nothing to consider, but you were hungry for more information anyway.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I want to get those portals on Ionian shores as soon as possible,” she said frankly, “Figure out what’s going on, stop it, and ensure the safety of Jayce and Viktor in the meantime. You’ll have my full legal and financial support for any issues that arise, and, depending on how successful you are, there will be additional compensation.”

“I don’t need more money,” you lied, because everyone could always use more money, “the stipend is enough.”

“Compensation need not be money. I understand you’re having trouble finding a permanent residence due to your... reputation. With my connections, that would be an easy fix,” she offered the handle of your knife to you with a crafty smile, “but it’s your decision, of course.”

Damn her.

You were smart enough to know that no one really escaped the rat race. People would always, on some level, do dubious shit to survive, because there would always be people willing to put them in that position for exploitation.

But you thought that you were done with violence. Sure, it happened once in a while, because that’s just life, but you were supposed to be free of the cycle; your hands, attached to strings that were puppeteered by someone else, dripping with blood.

Hell, even last night, delirious with lack of sleep as the Enforcers kept you awake long into the night to try and “force” a confession, you’d been caught in an unfamiliar emotional deluge. You weren’t one to regret things, but as the sting of alcohol cleared other people’s viscera from your wounds, you caught the stray, remorseful wish that things had gone better. That you didn’t have to kill five people, that the Enforcers believed you, that this was something everyone could reasonably move on from.

But you were expendable. Those pirates would’ve killed you first if you let them, those Enforcers would toss you into jail if you let them, and this godsdamned pit of brutality would drag you asunder forever if you kept letting it.

The blade of your knife gleamed through all of the damage.

Money wasn’t the only currency you’d need to stay here in Piltover. If you didn’t take Mel’s offer, you’d end up taking someone else’s sooner or later, lest you face the long, slow death of the life you were trying to set up here.

Even with allies, you were still alone. You were the only one that could make things work, and sometimes, that required discomfort.

Reluctantly, you accepted the handle of your knife.

“Okay. It’s a deal.”

“Excellent,” Mel’s grin widened, impassively watching as you scraped the pistol off of her desk and shoved both weapons away.

“We’ll be in touch,” you stood brusquely, pushing the chair out and stretching your legs as you approached the doorway.

“One more question,” Mel crooned, waiting for you to turn back around and face her before continuing, “why did you come back for Jayce and Viktor?”

The warmth in her office became sickening; you were trapped inside of a hotbox slowly increasing in temperature. The only breath of fresh air was the blinding white light that stretched from the large window behind her. She and her gold sat in it like a throne.

Each painting stared at you, all painfully aware that you had no answer.

“Let me ask you something instead,” your boldness was unconvincing, “why is the Noxian so concerned with getting these portals to Ionia?”

Mel looked away from you, pursing her lips and considering one of the larger paintings on her wall. It depicted a Noxian ship from behind, heading towards the sun and away from the desolate land they’d ravaged. The shadowed backs of the sails were the only ones in her entire room that reflected authentic blood red.

After a minute, she cocked her head to the side in defeat.

“Touche,” she said, “perhaps we both have something to answer for.”

You prayed that was the end of the conversation and scuttled out the door.

You weren’t even trying to be standoffish, just struck with the overwhelming need to use the bathroom. You’d been holding in this piss since you’d left the hospital.

Shambling through the corridors, without the time or mental capacity to admire them, you spun the question around in your head - why did you come back? You remembered crouching on the parapet, greeting the moon fondly and preparing to make your daring escape, until the gut-wrenching sound of Jayce getting ripped to shreds sucked you into the fray.

There were obvious reasons.

Jayce and Viktor were your crew, and you need them to sail the ship. You’d had allies before, and occasionally, you’d even saved them at great personal risk to yourself. But you weren’t one to jump in and take a non-lethal hit for someone else - that is to say, you weren’t stupid.

Because they weren’t going to die. Viktor’s captors had told you that explicitly, and if they wanted Jayce dead, then it would’ve happened within the first five minutes of their ambush. Both of them would’ve lived had you not stepped in.

You always had a reason for defending people, but you didn’t have a reason for that night.

You’d had an impulse bouncing around in your head, telling you that if you didn’t act, you’d regret it. It wasn’t the raw, cold-blooded instinct that helped you survive, nor the ferocious sixth sense that guided you through battle. It was a small, gentle urgency, older than any of the beasts living under your skin.

What the hell was it really, though?

At last, you spotted the cool, tiled floor and white hand towels of the fanciest bathroom you’d ever seen.

After you were relieved, you washed your hands, and unwittingly saw yourself for the first time since last night in the mirror.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. You looked as bad as you felt; the bags under your eyes were replaced with crescent shaped bruises, your nose ached every time you breathed, and- and your ear. The bottom half of your left ear was gone.

You clicked your tongue.

You could still hear out of it fine. That was why you’d nearly forgotten about it in the first place. And it was just cosmetic. You shyly caressed the bandage stump. Your earlobe had disappeared into thin air and was never coming back.

Sailors lose limbs all the time. You knew this. In fact, you hated that it was the first thing on your mind as you inspected the damage. You hated that you could fucking smell the saltwater being lobbed on the fresh cut as the ship’s surgeon told you not to touch it. You hated how you would go out on deck and commiserate with everyone else who had lost something far worse than you.

You hated how you already missed the cheap earrings you wore.

Here you were, in the center of progress and luxury and culture, but you’d never looked more like a dirty fucking Rat.

Thankfully, you had no time to dwell on it.

*****

Viktor was always amazed at how easily Jayce could fake ease.

“We have plans to shut down the test circuits in the city. Anything else will remain locked in the lab until further notice,” he told the Council, unwavering.

Viktor dreaded returning to the lab. He liked to think that he was levelheaded, but he knew that, at his core, he was a slave to his reckless, passionate impulses, and nothing ignited that like his work. To have to look it all in the eye and tell it to wait was torture.

“It appears we’re all on the same page, then,” Heimerdinger said.

“They would know better how to regulate themselves than any of us would,” Shoola added, “I am satisfied with this course of action for the company. However, its personnel - and potentially, the rest of Piltover - remain at risk.”

“One of them is the risk,” Salo gave a pointed stare.

It took Viktor a second to remember that he didn’t need to swallow his pride and hold his ground. He followed Salo’s beady eyes back down to your unamused deadpan, bathed in fresh sunlight. You were the risk in the moment.

Even though you bothered to clean up and generally look like you hadn’t just been thrown off a mountain, one could only look so good two days after near death. Jayce had opted to use makeup so his bruises wouldn’t show, exactly because he feared having any imperfections in front of the Council. It was one of the thousands of ways they could brand you as the other.

In spite of that, you wore the battle-hardened mask of injuries with complete sincerity.

Viktor wasn’t sure what to make of that, and he had no interest in ever finding out. Perhaps for the same reason he dreaded returning to the lab; this situation required detachment.

He hadn’t spoken a word to you yet.

When he entered the Council room, you were sitting at the table, discussing something with Jayce. Viktor wanted to interrupt so Jayce wouldn’t have the burden of pretending to be calm for the entire conversation, but when he sat down next to his partner and you peered at him expectantly, he mumbled a “good morning” to his feet and feigned interest in the handle of his cane.

“She’s awaiting trial,” Mel said, “we cannot make any determination until she’s been given a chance in court.”

“While I’m in favor of a fair judicial process, we can’t afford to wait,” Kiramann said, “something must be done sooner rather than later. And when it comes down to the safety of Piltover or the legal rights of a foreign criminal, the choice is clear.”

Viktor looked at you. You looked at Jayce. Jayce looked back at you.

You stood up.

“You don’t have to choose between those,” you began in a languid voice, “and you shouldn’t. Focusing on my alleged crimes is exactly what these pirates would want you to do - waste time on a false lead instead of addressing the greater threat.”

You waited for objections, but to yours and Viktor’s surprise, none came.

“You have a proposition?” Heimerdinger raised a bushy eyebrow.

“I do,” you placed your hands on the table, next to the stack of papers,” I looked over the logs from the night of the attack-”

“And how did ye get access to those?!” Hoskel, who was very pleased with himself, pounded his fists on the table.

“You guys have an open records policy,” you said, almost impressed with how unaware of his own city, “anyway...”

Viktor tuned you out.

“Did you know about this?” he muttered to Jayce.

“She caught me up like 10 minutes before we started.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“She did it behind our backs.”

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

“What would you call it?”

“Can we talk about this later? I wanna listen.”

But Viktor wanted to talk about it now. All of a sudden, you were the most proactive person in this mystery, after weeks of not doing anything unless absolutely necessary. It was... not suspicious, but Viktor liked to know things.

Jayce was good at faking, though. Perhaps he was pretending to not be bothered to save face.

“...the delay in Enforcer arrival was caused by an issue with the radio system,” you were still talking, “The Public Emergency Radio on the docks were down, so none of the calls that bystanders on the docks made went through to the station. The Enforcers only heard about a crime from the PER by the bridge. I looked at the maintenance reports, and,” you put a new piece of paper on top of the pile, “it said that the resistor inline of the PER on the docks was soldered somewhere it clearly didn’t belong. This is an error that can only be done by human hands and by someone who would have the key to the fusebox.”

You inhaled through your nose.

“The obvious conclusion is sabotage from within the Enforcers, which is something that many people in the station have suspected for a while. If you want to focus your efforts on something, you should conduct a thorough internal investigation of the Enforcers, because there’s at least one spy in there.”

Self-assured doubt began to cloud the Council’s expressions. You glowered.

“Look, pirates expand, okay? If you let this slide, then one day, they won’t just be after Hextech. They’ll go for your jewelry, your booze, your spices...” that got a few of them to straighten their spines, “The longer you leave a spy in there, the harder they are to find. I’ve seen entire enterprises destroyed this way, and it will happen again, unless you nip this in the ass by finding that spy now,” you strained slightly.

Viktor realized that you’d been paying more attention than you let on, with the way that you targeted the specific business interests of the Councilors. For someone who never made an effort to please them, you could be quite convincing when you wanted to be. All that haggling expertise didn’t come from nowhere, he supposed.

It was silent. You didn’t sit down yet, practically challenging one of them to say something.

Finally, someone did.

“Councilors, all due respect, that would be an utter waste of time” the voice was irritated with pride.

Its speaker left the shadowed corner; he had a precise black mustache, geometric brows, and an Enforcer helmet tucked under his arm.

“So is bringing a Helmet to a Council meeting, Mister...” your fingers tightened against the tabe.

“I’m the Sheriff of Piltover,” he stated, directly to you, before turning to the Councilors, “and in all the years I’ve been working for this city, we’ve only increased our internal defenses against spies due to the threat of Undercity subterfuge. Our hiring process is thorough, and we screen for them regularly, which is why I can safely say that there are no agents of the Undercity, or anywhere else, in the Enforcers.”

Somehow, even when the subject was entirely unrelated, the Undercity always came up in Council meetings. Viktor scoffed, but said nothing.

“But how can-”

“Further,” he interrupted, focusing on you again, “I urge the Council to question the integrity of her argument. For all we know, she could be the insurgent, trying to distract us while the real problems go unnoticed,” he folded his hands, “Her character would suggest so.”

“This isn’t about me,” you growled.

“Our testimony would suggest that it is about you, actually,” he pulled a piece of paper from his brest pocket, “One witness reports that you were, and these were their exact words, ‘brutal. without remorse, didn’t even bother with talking, just went straight for the vitals.’”

Viktor’s heart fell into his stomach.

“Now, Councilors, that doesn’t sound like someone who has anyone’s best interest in mind, let alone Piltover’s,” the sheriff concluded, and Viktor felt a new level of guilt.

“You’re taking that out of context,” you said.

“Is that so?” the sheriff put the paper away, “But you still were engaging in such behavior, weren’t you?”

Viktor cringed, sinking down deeper into his seat. His internal logic sounded a lot less valid coming from this pompous asshole’s mouth.

“It was self defense,” you said.

“Right,” the sheriff returned his focus to the Council, as though you were a speck of dust on his shoe, “now, I recommend that we...”

Your palms relaxed. You plopped back back into the chair, defeated, and Viktor never thought that he’d see you give up an argument that easily.

A vote and a disappointment later, you three regrouped in the lobby.

“They’re screwing themselves over,” you tutted, “all the work we’re doing to shut this down is gonna mean nothing.”

“This isn’t our last chance,” Jayce nudged your elbow, “we can always ask again. That sheriff can only damage control so many times.”

Jayce was very convincing. If Viktor hadn’t actually seen him break down yesterday, he would’ve believed that you two were pals and nothing ever happened.

“Right,” you said into your hands, “godsdamnit, of course they had some random asshat’s testimony on file like that,” you surveyed Jayce and Viktor, “I didn’t even know anyone else was watching.”

You locked eyes with Viktor, and before he could anticipate how it would come off, he found himself quickly looking down at the floor with the confidence of a frightened rabbit. If he had to under the spell of the discerning, yet unsuspecting, crinkle in the corners of your eyes for any longer, he might just confess.

Which wasn’t even warranted, he told himself. How was he supposed to know that they would use his words like that?

When he poked his head back up and caught your face, your expression wasn’t unsuspecting anymore.

“I gotta go,” you said suddenly, getting up from your chair, “Alex and I have a dinner date. But I’ll be there early tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. We’ll get started on lockdown. See ya, Pen.”

Viktor only felt that he could breathe again when you closed the door behind you.

“Are you alright, Vik?” Jayce patted his friend’s back without warning.

“Yes-” Viktor regained his composure, “yes, I am fine. I do wonder,” he narrowed his eyes, “how she read those Enforcer logs by herself, though.”

“Oh, Caitlyn helped her,” Jayce said, “they met up at the station.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all?!”

“Why would it bother me?” Jayce frowned, “Does it bother you?”

“Well-” Viktor swallowed, “I thought that you were interested in keeping tighter security. Penny doing things without us knowing does not align with that.”

“Look, I was a little freaked out earlier, but once I processed all that shit,” Jayce sighed, “I remembered that it’s just Penny. She’s still the same person. And I trust her.”

Ah. Jayce wasn’t faking earlier - he was actually comfortable with you. And so was Caitlyn. Even after everything you’d done. After everything you’d shown yourself to be.

If there was one thing he learned after moving here from Zaun, it was that, despite all the glitz of Piltover, people will eventually show their true selves to you. Especially if they don’t see you as an equal.

And you should always believe them.

“Now, we better get started on clearing out the lab,” Jayce grunted.

“We should divide the labor,” Viktor said lifelessly, “I will remove the test circuits.”

“You sure you wanna do that alone?”

“Yes.”

Viktor refused to be near the Academy any longer. He needed time, away from the vestigial defensive reflexes of his Zaunite heritage, away from reminders of his work, and away from the notion that you ever existed.

*****

You squinted, as though it were any trouble to recognize that silhouette.

You could recognize a lot of things about him now. He stood out from the crowd. Those weren’t just keys on the table, those were Viktor’s keys. That wasn’t just sloppy handwriting, that was Viktor’s sloppy handwriting. And, earlier today, that wasn’t just anyone’s evasive maneuver, that was Viktor’s evasive maneuver.

And he was never evasive. The bastard was hiding something, and you hoped that you were wrong about what it was.

“She had a knife like yours,” Alex said.

Right. You were supposed to be bringing him home. You were sure that he could make it by himself, but given everything that had happened in the last few days and the fact that it was approaching midnight, you weren’t taking any chances.

“Hm?” you tilted your head to the side, refocusing your attention on the winding street.

“That lady. Pearl. She had a knife like yours. I saw it when I went to the bathroom.”

“You sure about that? Mine’s as custom as they come.”

“I didn’t look that close,” he paused, half his face shadowed by the street lamp, “but it did look like yours.”

“Maybe I’ll ask her to see it next time,” you looked at him from the side, “You liked her though, right?”

Though you very much enjoyed dining in the servant’s quarters of the mansion she worked in, you had other reasons to consider the visit a success; she basically confirmed that you could house sit for the winter, starting next week and lasting for a month.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, “I just wish that there were more Rats in Piltover. Monty says I’m not allowed to go to the Undercity.”

You clicked your tongue. You didn’t know much about the family that he lived in, but that sounded like standard fare for Piltover.

“I’m not allowed to go there either,” you said, “but hey, it’s not gonna be like this forever. I’m sure we’ll get to meet them eventually.”

Even if the entire godsdamned city, including Viktor, was working against you.

In the meantime, you could make do with Pearl’s company.

She was happy to find a kindred spirit and you were desperate for one. You got the sense that both of you were not considered worthwhile company by most of Piltover, so it was nice to be wanted for a change. And, despite your initial caution, she was fun to be around; she’d retained her Bilgewater slickness.

You hardly got through your request for a housesitting recommendation before she was on board, saying that she did something similar in her youth and that it was “only right that the people who would actually use a property like this should get to live in it.” Apparently, she’d thrown some wild parties in the ballroom, with her employers none the wiser.

She’d even taken her employer’s best booze from the cellar for that night, though you had to decline since you were on proper painkillers now.

“I don’t get tired of the luxury, because it was never really mine to start with,” she had said, “though, if you ask me, I think being bored out of my skull but filthy rich is a pretty good deal.”

“Maybe so,” you had answered, “though something tells me we’ll never get to find out.”

After you dropped Alex off at his house, you closed the door and leaned against it, resting in the porchlight oasis. Finally, one damn thing had gone right in your life, and you worried that the minute you walked down the stairs of the deck and surrendered yourself back to the quotidian night, you’d lose the feeling.

But Viktor was still there, by himself, looking like a mugger’s dream. You should probably make sure that he didn’t get himself killed.

“You shouldn’t be here by yourself,” you said when you approached him from behind, holding back a smirk when he flinched, “did you learn nothing from that bar ambush?”

His screwdriver stilled, then gently floated away from the open test-circuit reactor. The light around Viktor’s shadow on the cobblestone melted from brassy street lamps to hex crystal blue, which glimmered in his exhausted eyes when he faced you.

“I know that you don’t get out much, but you really ought to find a better hobby than following me,” he leaned against his cane with that smug, self-assured lack of fear that he always had when he realized it was just you.

“Alex’s house is that way,” you jerked your chin towards the street, “in case you forgot. And I think following you is a more worthwhile hobby than giving vindictive, inaccurate testimony to Enforcers.”

He wasn’t surprised at your retort. He just winced, like he’d seen it coming, which had the frightening implication that he recognized the signs of your mood just as easily as you recognized his.

“I did not know they would use it like that,” he said, all too defensive for your liking, “but it was not inaccurate. I was merely telling the truth.”

Something rustled in your coat pocket.

“Oh, bullshit. Jayce saw a lot of the same crap you did, was even more disgusted by it, and they weren’t quoting him in front of the Councilors, so obviously there was a right thing to say, and you didn’t say it.”

“I’m not arguing with you,” he said, though he didn’t turn around.

“Right, because you were so busy working on that circuit,” you gestured to it, “c’mon, I saw you there like five minutes ago. It doesn’t take that long to deactivate,” you curled your lips cruelly, “What? Too worried that you’ll feel some remorse?”

The mass in your pocket was... warm against your upper thigh.

“I’ve been standing here,” Viktor’s words came from the back of his throat, “for four hours, because you could not stop yourself from going fucking berserk and how Hextech is suffering for it. You couldn’t think for a moment about how this would affect anyone other than yourself,” he swallowed, “I am losing everything.”

“I’m sorry?!” you crossed your arms, “Am I hearing that you’d rather lose your life?”

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Viktor rolled his eyes, “no one’s-”

Blue light cracked from your coat pocket. Viktor stopped as a similar surge of magical energy stretched out behind him in bolts. The pen reactor.

You went dead still, wondering if this was really how it ended.

But a few moments passed, and you were both still alive, goggling each other with empty, frightened eyes. You bit your lip and reached down into your pocket with a trembling hand.

The long, smooth grip of the pistol was raging with internal magic, like there were storm clouds lashing out inside of it. You followed the energy back to its cylinder, wrapping your fingers around the center and rattling your bottle of painkillers on the way out of your pocket.

Viktor stepped aside to examine the reactor.

Blue embers radiated from the pistol’s cylinder, as though hot coals burned inside. It didn’t feel like a solid object anymore, but an extension of your body, united with your hand.

Viktor pushed the shutter away. The reactor’s hex crystal emanated the same muted embers. THey were less flashy than normal, but still fluttered with life.

The pistol and the reactor chittered back and forth rhythmically.

You unsheathed your knife from your belt and pressed the tip into the blue edge at the bottom of the cylinder, applying the slightest amount of pressure to open it.

Pop.

You saw the hex crystal inside for only a second before everything went white.

*****

Falling, falling, falling, but with no air careening against you.

It was so godsdamned bright. The inverse of outer space, where, instead of the absence of light, every single molecule reflected it at you all at once, bursting and flashing with lurid vertigo. It felt like you stared into the sun too long and now the rays were extending past your scope, consuming you whole.

It lasted for only a second.

Your feet were on solid ground again, and traces of salt water tickled your nose. Spots clumped in your vision, mitigated by the steely cobalt color of the sky.

The sky... wasn’t like that before. Storm clouds herded above, still an opaque mass as the last strands of light dipped below the horizon. It was not the clear, inky night that you’d come from.

“Hhhng.”

Viktor.

You blinked harshly, forcing the disorientation from your system. You were outside, it was nearing night time, and... and the familiar sound of clinking glass and drunken whoops spun from your right. A strip of dull lantern light came from an open door.

Viktor materialized into focus, standing up, in the same physical condition as he was before, but just as lost as you were. And past him... that couldn’t be.

It was the alleyway that Jayce was attacked in. You’d recognize it anywhere. Scuffed, aging buildings formed a lane to the docks, but as your eye followed them down, the street was lacking something that should’ve been there, and it made you sick.

It should’ve been coated with thick, white snow, shoveled into small piles on the side so the crunchy salt could break apart the thin sheet of ice on the road.

But there was nothing. The streets were clear, like it had never snowed at all. And the ocean was angry.

Anxiety twanged in your chest.

You looked at Viktor, distracted by the street, and apparently coming to the same conclusion as you. Something was very, very wrong.

And then your own voice, scratchy and free and spent, and curled around your ears. But you hadn’t said anything.

You cleared your throat, confirming that, yes, your vocal chords were still under your control, but the onslaught of your own words, entirely divorced from your being, continued.

Jayce’s brazen voice replied.

“Do...” your voice cracked, and Viktor turned around, “do you hear that?”

He paused, listening intently to the inside of the bar. And his eyes were wider than you’d ever seen when he heard his own voice blurt something out, the unmistakable accent even thicker with booze.

You crept into the doorway, barely touching the edge with your fingers. Another sensation would send you overboard. The asymmetrical beat of Viktor’s footsteps followed behind you.

Moving just one eye out, you took a peek at the bar.

Every poet from every country from every lifetime could not describe the uncanniness of seeing yourself from the outside. It wasn’t real, it didn’t feel real, because there was no way that was you, because things like this did not happen. You were not supposed to be an object on a plane, you were the damn plane.

It was like those trick paintings, where everything looks okay on the surface, but as you notice more macabre details the only picture you get is just how little you know about the world being presented to you. Every small thing about yourself sent a rolling wave of dissociated, horrified deja vu. And yet you couldn’t pull yourself away.

You felt faint.

And it only got worse when you saw the back of the original man with the pistol, the motherfucker that drugged your friends and tried to shoot you, sitting at the bar. The same young man hiding behind a still-developing beard. His pistol, a creamy silver, was sturdily attached at the hip.

He didn’t see you spying on him, as he was intensely focused on other you getting up from the table with a half empty mug of rum and beckoning to the bartender.

You took a seat right next to him and faced away, leaving your drink on the table.

Gods, you were an idiot.

You were watching everything go wrong in slow motion. The bartender went around back to get you some fresh mint, and you passively engaged in conversation with someone sitting farther down the bar.

The pirate fingered a bottle of clear liquid, passed it over your drink like a ghost, and left the bar counter without you noticing. He faded into some far off corner, waiting for you to take the bait.

He must’ve already gotten Jayce and Viktor, then. So what stopped this drug from getting to you? And better yet, what would stop you from beat his ass this very moment instead of letting past you take the lead an hour from now.

You couldn’t just attack him, you knew better than to run head first into... whatever was going on. But, for comfort, your hand raced down to your belt and closed around the hilt of your knife. Your bottle of painkillers rattled in your pocket.

Painkillers. The ones that made you vomit when combined with alcohol.

You’d asked the bartender for mint. You were making a mojito, which you’d thrown up that night.

And then you understood that all of this had already happened to you, and your intervention was an important part of saving this night. But you had to do it now.

You edged further into the bar, pressing your palm down on the cap of the painkillers.

This was a bad idea.

You crammed a chalky white pill between your fingers. Your drink was open. The bartender was gone. No one would notice.

This was a bad idea.

Jayce and Viktor were enraptured by a debate with each other about... something stupid probably. Your heartbeat was fast.

This was a bad idea.

“Wait here,” you said to your Viktor, the one looming over your shoulder, who was too stunned with anything to reply.

This was a bad idea. You can’t change the past.

But clearly, you already had.

You blacked out for a bit. You forgot to breathe the entire time as you snaked out from your hallway and hugged the edge of the bar, trying and failing to act casual.

You were less than a foot away from yourself when you stalled, because that was you, right there. Your back was facing you, and you could’ve reached out and touched it.

But this timeline was meant to be changed, even if you had to be the one to do it.

So, when the pill slipped from your hands, into the shallow pool of Whalefall and rum at the bottom of your mug, with past you none the wiser, you felt a rush of raw determination. Everything would be okay.

You retreated into the hallway, a stop on your way back into the alleyway. Viktor just watched you, shaking.

“Did... did you-” he whispered as you gave yourself a final glance before you left the premises.

Your attention returned to your drink after the bartender gave you the mint you asked for. You scooted off the chair and joined Jayce and Viktor again, about the mix the mojito that would’ve been your doom.

“C’mon, let’s-”

A fading conversation bounced down the alleyway. You saw them from the corner of your eye.

Jayce’s attackers, lying in wait. You were fucked if you went back down the alleyway.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit,” you muttered.

You couldn’t just walk through the bar either, not when you looked like you had just seen a ghost. You needed time to think. To come up with a plan.

But you were trapped.

You hastily backed into the bathroom, brushing against Viktor’s chest as you pushed his immobile body with you.

You shut the door and twisted the lock with numb hands.

“This can’t- I can’t- what the fuck-” Viktor panted. He was on the verge of hyperventilating.

You turned and leaned against the door, realizing for the first time since you’d arrived here that the gun was gone.

Well, shit.

The bathroom was tiny; the bare necessities of a rusty sink, soap, a hand towel, and a toilet were surrounded by aged wooden walls reminiscent of a ship’s head.

Not the time to reminisce.

“What- what did you do?” Viktor collapsed onto the toilet, rubbing his face with the heels of his hand.

“I, uh- I think I just drugged my own drink,” you said blankly, “so that I would throw up that shit they put in it. And then I could...” you trailed off.

“No! I mean-” Viktor caught a breath, “what... what happened? Why are we here? Is this... this is real, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “this... is real.”

“The reactor, and the... it must have been affected, and transported us...”

“Into the past,” you finished slowly, “when it connected with...”

“What was in that gun?!” his voice cracked, “Why did...”

“It came from the guy,” you said, “the first one I killed when I... when I came for you. The one we just saw. It was his...”

“And it connected with the gun from the past, meaning that we-” he groaned, anger gradually replacing the confusion, “And you- why did you have it?!” he snapped.

“Hey! This isn’t all me, okay, it did some shit with that reactor too!”

“Of all the godsdamned places we could go!” he threw his arms in the air, “And now we’re stuck here.”

“We’re not stuck,” you said, “We’ve got time before... everything happens. We’ll just wait for our opening and then-”

“And then what?! Get involved with all of this crap again?” he chuckled mirthlessly, “Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I was making sure that we don’t die just now, dickweed!” you howled, “I don’t wanna see any of this shit again!”

“If you don’t want to see it again, then maybe you shouldn’t have done it to begin with.”

And finally, the cord inside of you that was wound so tight around your emotions broke in hafl.

“Alright, that’s it!” you slammed your hand down on the sink counter, “Did I do something wrong? I don’t understand how saving your bitch ass could possibly be a fuck up on my end, but I assure you I will not repeat that mistake.”

“Again with this rescue drivel! You can give it a rest, no one else is here.”

“You think I did all that shit, to them, to me, for fun?!”

“I don’t know why you did it, but it’s not because you wanted to help me,” he hissed.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You may have everyone else on your side,” he pointed a bony finger at your chest, “but you made a mistake. And I’ll tell you where you made a mistake.”

HIs spit shined in the artificial light, disturbing the dust mites suspended in the air.

“You came back for me,” he barked, “and if you think for a godsdamned second that I believe you came back, risked yourself, not even for my life but just for my wellbeing, with no ulterior motive, then you are dumber than you look,” he said, “You did not do anything for me. You did it for yourself because you wanted an excuse to do all that. I know it.”

He was sweating. He was hurting. And you were so, so close to channeling your turbulence and bewilderment straight into your fists, because you didn’t even have a good answer.

But then he said those words, and everything fell into place.

*****

“I’ve seen who you are in the dark, and you’re a monster.”

None of the catharsis that was supposed to be there came. You blinked once, twice, overflowing with nothing, like a dormant volcano.

The patter of footsteps outside was deafening.

And then your hands moved, and Viktor thought you were going to kill him.

BUt instead your fingers, steadier than he’d ever seen, met at the collar of your shirt and undid the first button. The fabric shifted as you inhaled.

“See, the thing about a lot of what happens on ships,” your cadence was stony, “is that it’s designed to not be debilitating, but to still hurt like hell.”

Viktor didn’t answer, watching as you weaved down to the second button.

“Injuries that you can still do your job with. You get this little jolt of pain every time that you move.”

You crept down to the third button.

“And you can see it for a while after if you look. Because they don’t want you to forget.”

The fourth. The placid mauve color of your bra poked through, and though Viktor was very briefly tempted to follow the luscious line of your chest, the rapid descent of your hands and the severity in your voice killed the thought.

“And if you’ve been sailing for a while, and it happens over and over again...”

The fifth.

“Then you get something to show for it.”

The sixth. You turned around and peeled the shirt off your back.

Starting at your shoulder blades and extending to beyond your pants was an explosion of scars. They were raised, long, and straight, overlapping with each other but occasionally grouping together in parallel rows as though they’d come from some vicious, clawed animal. There were so many.

The craggy lines reminded Viktor of a map, perhaps a conglomerate of rivers or mountains, but only on the surface. These were far too angry, tangled with each other like they were trying to suffocate themselves, yet aged into your skin like hieroglyphics.

Whip scars. Viktor did not need to ask where they came from.

After a small eternity, in which Viktor fought off the urge to reach out and trace them with this finger, you pulled your shirt over your back and turned around, leaving your clavicle exposed as you addressed him.

“Because everywhere has monsters,” your voice was almost a whisper as you snared his eyes with your own, narrowed ones, “and I’ve seen Bilgewater’s. I’m reminded of what they’re capable of every single day.”

You straightened your posture, and the sharp corners of your eyelids softened in a way only Viktor could notice.

“Is it so wrong of me to want to protect you from that?”

The silence sighed.

Peals of laughter - laughter from you and Viktor and Jayce - bled through the bathroom door. Yet Viktor said nothing.

And he wanted to say everything.

He had a million answers to your question, and a million questions for you to answer, and a million grievances to take up with the gods themselves, and as they were all tearing his mind apart in every direction and giving him a searing headache, he couldn’t stop plunging himself into your frustrated, yet painfully earnest gaze as you waited for a single answer that he would never have.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said, pressing yourself against the door and buttoning your shirt. All the ire had evaporated, and left disappointment in its place.

You expected him to be better - not just expected, even, but worked for it. Put yourself out there, in the cold, cruel world to keep him on track, because you thought he had something worth protecting.

And the worst part was that he could be better than this, but the thought of letting you down was suddenly so terrifying, that he didn’t know where to begin,

He had to try, though. He couldn’t miss his chance.

“I... I thought it was too good to be true,” he said softly.

You laughed.

“Oh, really? That was what was too good to be true, Mr. Heimerdinger’s assistant who does break-ins on the side?” your fake smile dropped, “Don’t fucking patronize me.”

Viktor raised a melancholy eyebrow.

“Being Heimerdinger’s assistant was too good to be true,” he said, embarrassed for some reason.

And... he’d lost you. You rolled your eyes and prepared to sit down on the floor, but, before Viktor even thought about it, he gently grabbed your knuckles.

“No, please, you don’t understand,” he stammered, looking past your pupils.

Your face was still, and Viktor could really focus on your ear and nose while you were awake, with everything he knew about you to evaluate it against.

And despite his best efforts, all he saw was someone who had been through a lot, and was putting even more on hold so they could listen to him speak. The least he could do was give them a worthwhile explanation.

“I- those years, when I had to work the hardest job on campus just to say there, to even have a chance at making something of myself... those were some of the worst years of my life. I hate the story of how I became Herimerdinger’s assistant.”

He exhaled, keeping himself together for your sake.

“But everyone knows it, because people in Piltover love to tell it. Without my permission, too. It makes them feel comfortable in their system; that somehow, the people who ‘deserve’ to be here will always find their way to Piltover, even if they have to deal with a lot of... eh, bullshit.”

Your hand was smaller in his own. He had your attention, but he kept holding it.

“Every success that I’ve had here is like that. You have seen it with how people, the Council, treat Hextech. Piltover talks about my- our wellbeing in times like these, yet in reality, they could not care less about what happens to us as long as they get what they want,” he said, “And what- what I’m trying to say is that, when things started to go bad, when we were losing Hextech, and when I was very angry, and I wasn’t thinking straight, I thought that you were one of those people. And that was upsetting because-”

Everything he thought to say here made him sound like an office manager or the world’s biggest sap. Because I value your company? Because you remind me of the person I want to be, even when I feel like crap? Because I finally understand you, and I keep wanting to know more?

He heard himself guffawing in the bar. He remembered this laugh - you had just recounted the time that you had to pretend to be Freljordian, but only knew the swear words in the language.

In a few minutes, Viktor would feel comfortable enough to recall the time that he accidentally brought Heimerdinger a smut novel instead of the biology text he requested, because of the similar covers.

“Because I really thought we were starting to be friends,” he said sheepishly, “even though I have not acted like one in the past few days,” he placed his other hand on top of your knuckles, “and I am truly sorry.”

You sharply exhaled and looked at your shoes before returning the eye contact with curious resolve.

“Piltover doesn’t deserve you, y’know,” you said bluntly.

Viktor understood Jayce’s apprehension with the company now. He would shut the entire thing down to prevent anything like this from falling on you.

“Perhaps not, but... you risked your life and I still get to be here. I cannot thank you enough,” he squeezed his hand, “And Penny, I promise you that as long as I have something to say about it, you will not be in that position again.”

However impossible that was, he meant every word. Precious few people ever considered him something to be deserved, and even fewer defended it with their bare chest and back.

And there was only one you.

“Psh, alright,” you pulled your hand away, leaving Viktor to grasp at the cold, “apology accepted, don’t overcomplicate it. Now you know... cause we’re both kinda fucked, so we gotta watch out for each other, right?

You smiled, slightly apologetic for killing the atmosphere, and a bit... nervous? Your hands were fidgeting.

More laughter came from inside the bar.

“Indeed,” Viktor sat back down on the lid of the toilet, “we do.”

“And, uh, don’t worry about trying to make it up or anything. You’ve helped me before. We’re equal.”

“That was different,” Viktor didn’t know exactly what you were referring to, but he assumed that none of it had the same weight.

“It still meant a lot,” you insisted, “and besides, things wouldn’t have gotten this far if I hadn’t avoided talking about the whole, uh, murder party, so...”

From the onset of tact in your voice and the way that your body froze as you tried to process a single emotion, Viktor could tell that you meant it. Yes, you were a tad emotionally constipated, but liked you as you were.

He stayed silently committed to his promise.

“We should... leave here,” he changed the subject

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be too hard, now that we’re not acting too suspicious or anything, so I think we’ll just wait for our opening and go out the front without attracting any attention,” you cracked open the bathroom door, surveying the minefield of potential sightings, “only trouble is that we don’t really have anywhere to go after that.”

“There is one place we could go,” Viktor said.

After a nerve-wracking fifteen minutes of watching bar customers slowly clear out as the night got darker, you two left with a large wave of them, making it into the outside’s chilled embrace without a hitch.

You broke apart the awkwardness with commentary about the snow that just started to fall, saying that you were “a fan of this frozen precipitation,” to which Viktor chuckled at through his exhaustion.

The last stop on your journey was a call made at the PER by the bridge to the Enforcers, to report your own incident. Viktor got to hear your terrible Freljordian accent again as you faked being a Helga Olafersson.

And you left Piltover, the memories of the bar, and any other bullshit behind as you crossed the bridge, side by side, to the Undercity.

~ End Notes ~

Your daily reminder to not tell shit to cops

End Credits Song: "The Night" by Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons

79 notes · View notes

babblydrabbly · 3 years

Text

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

#peacemaker #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker x you #Christopher smith #dceu smut #dceu fanfiction #I don't know what happened; I had ideas for some dialogue between peacekeeper and reader and it turned into thiS #peacemaker smut #smut #mywords*

483 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Note

wine: ingredient 44 + sugar 7 + spice 12 for gojo satoru *slams table* thank you for feeding us kind maam

for sukirichi’s milestone event:

the meal order : 🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) your dinner has been served! also bruh LOL you’re a choso simp this is hilarious spspsps

— who are you to deny him when he only wants to worship you?

gojo satoru x fem! reader

contents/warnings: nsfw, slight angst, reader is hot girl shit, gojo long schlong, hate sex, car sex, spanking, riding gojo, slight angst, praising kink taken to a DIFFERENT LEVEL (i want to make people question the extent of their praising kink), body marking, rough sex lol it’s always rough in my stories, unedited

Your friends pushed you out of the club, all of you laughing, hands clutched around your waists as loud, drunken giggles fill in the night air. It was a wild night; your friends invited you to the club to take your mind off your stupid boyfriend. You thought you’d end up moping around, too much of a buzzkill to ever let loose because it wasn’t that easy to stop thinking about him, but even you were surprised when you started grinding with people on the dance floor just three drinks later.

The gals were more than delighted to see you enjoying your night, only dragging you out the club when you nearly shoved your tongue down another man’s throat.

Scratch that – your friends called you to hang out because you lied about having a shitty day at work. You’ve had your fair share of shitty days, but you were one of the most prominent lawyers in your firm, no one dared gave you a bad day. Your subordinates knew that if they even looked your way without your permission, you wouldn’t hesitate to dump paperwork on them, or assign them to the nastiest cases just to piss them off.

Yeah, you were sort of a bitch, but you didn’t care.

It took a lot to get where you were now. It wasn’t easy to be a woman in a male-dominated workplace and you were forced to strip your softness off, replacing it with hard armor and sharp tongue concealed under bold red lips, a tight pencil skirt that accentuated your curves, and a pair of black suede pumps.

You deserved all your success. You were smart, stunning, confident, powerful – so then why did you feel like shit around your shitty boyfriend?

The answer was loud and clear. It bothered you to no end that he wanted to keep your relationship a secret because his family was too different from yours, coming up with a shitty excuse that you were just “too different.” He never bothered explaining, and every time you confronted him about, he’d only wave his hand, distract you with those delicious and soft lips of his until you forget it over and over again.

You were okay with it at first. It wasn’t a really serious relationship; you only started dating him because you saw yourself a lot in him – confident, self-assured, maybe even a little cocky – plus, he was extremely attractive.

But the longer you spent time with him, you were beginning to fall in love.

Yes, you, the ice princess of one of the most respected law firms all over the city was beginning to soften up at a certain blue-eyed man who had magical hands.

But tonight – tonight you’d forget about him.

Your stomach was heavy with expensive liquor and you were nearly staggering on your knees, the only thing preventing you from falling were your more sober friends. The others were holding you close to keep you upright, while one of your friends moved to a quieter part of the block to call an Uber for you. Your friends were all happily married, some with children, so they couldn’t really stay out too late at night and chaperone you all the way back home.

You were well-aware you were being a bother, but fuck, couldn’t you lean on someone for just once? Sighing, you leaned closer to your warm friend, mumbling something about wanting to forget about everything you’ve been through.

“There, there,” she patted your head comfortingly, “You’ll be fine, babe, you’re a strong woman. I know you’ll get through this.”

“But I hate it,” you drunkenly admitted, lips trembling the more you thought about him, every stupid little thing about him – his soft white hair, those pretty blue eyes he always hid under shades even at night, his large, calloused hands that always felt so rough when keeping your legs open for him and you couldn’t even start talking about his cock, he was just so blessed and perfect in every little thing that you hated it. You hated him. “I don’t like this feeling,” you sniffled, “I feel like I’m being looked down on, that I’m being pushed to the side. I feel unimportant, like I’m not good enough.”

“Who said you aren’t?”

You froze in your friend’s arms, eyes meeting with those blue ones you could never get enough of. As if noticing your silence, your friend immediately covers you with her arm, glaring at your boyfriend. “Do we know you or something?”

“No,” Satoru replies coolly, brows furrowed in the state you were in. You turned away from him with a scoff, arms crossed on your chest. Why did he have to be here out of all places? Wasn’t he busy with work or whatever family shit he apparently couldn’t tell you about even though you’ve both been dating for a year and a half now? He just wasn’t giving you a break, and the hairs on your arm stood up when he said, “Not that you have to, but may I please drive Y/N home?”

“She’s not going anywhere—”

“She’s a friend of mine,” he insisted, turning to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You almost melted. Almost. “I need to talk to her about something.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped forward, your friend’s arm latching onto yours. You could tell she was worried from the way her gaze darted back and forth between you two. Satoru was, after all, clearly uninvited, and he didn’t seem like your type either. You always insisted you preferred refined man, men like his friend Nanami Kento, but alas, you were stuck dating this one instead.

“It’s fine,” you told her with a fake smile, “I’ll call you later when I get home.”

You never got to call her – simply because you didn’t make it home. The moment Satoru closed the car doors behind you, you both got into a heated argument. Satoru hated silences and always made sure the car was filled with music, but this time, he didn’t notice there weren’t any songs when you opened your mouth.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the anger and pent-up tension of not being able to hold him and kiss him in public like normal couples did, in addition to the fact Satoru never explained why he insisted on keeping you a secret – whatever it was, you just snapped.

“I don’t even understand why I’m still dating you!” you huffed, legs crossed on top of the other as you gazed out the window. Lips trembling, you tried so hard to not cry, especially not in front of the man who was breaking your heart. “This is hardly a relationship when I’m not free to call or text you as you please, when I can’t go out with you on dates and we’re always hanging in my apartment. I’m your girlfriend, Satoru, we’ve been together for a long time but I honestly don’t even feel like it. What the hell are we dating for then?”

Satoru clenched his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you,” he said coolly, acting unbothered and unaffected as ever, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise. “If that’s not enough—”

“Of course it’s not enough!”

“I’m trying here too, okay?” Satoru slammed on the brakes and parked on a desolated spot, hands running through his hair while he breathed heavily. Once he’d calmed down, he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eye like a man. “I’m trying my best. It’s just hard. It isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“What isn’t easy as it looks? Dating me? Letting the whole world know I’m yours?” when Satoru didn’t respond, you scoffed, patience running low and thin. “You’re pathetic, Satoru. Dating you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I thought I was a smart woman.”

With a shake of your head, you slung your purse over your shoulder and reached for the car door. You were about to leave when Satoru suddenly pulled you towards him, his lips slamming into yours. Like always, you fell into his trap, into the blissful pleasure that was his lips and his hands, and you hated it, hated him, hated him so fucking much because you were so tired of his entire existence.

You wanted to let him know he was insufferable.

You wanted him to feel the pain and misery he put you through.

“I fucking hate you,” you snarled as Satoru kept fucking into you, the entire car windows fogged and the vehicle shaking. “I wish I never met you, you asshole,” Satoru, displeased, only buries himself deeper into you, as if they would erase his mistakes and shortcomings.

Satoru’s large hands snake to your waist and onto your breasts, expertly tweaking them between his fingers. Your head fell back to the crook of his shoulder, your back pressed against his hard chest as Satoru trapped you in his strong arms, impaling you on his cock over and over again. “You’re lying,” he whispered into your neck, tongue and teeth playfully sucking at the tender flesh. His grip on your hip was bruising and possessive, and your breasts bounced fervently at how he snapped his hips upwards to feel your walls coat him and hug him tightly and warmly. “Why would you hate me, sweet girl? Don’t I always make you feel good? Don’t I remind you enough that you’re the best fucking thing ever?”

You didn’t respond right away, your breath taken away with how you could never get enough of this, of him. He was right no matter how much you denied it. Despite being terrible in everything else, Satoru knew and respected you, even admired your dominance and intelligence when other men were intimidated by it.

No, he worshipped you. He made you feel like you were a divine goddess when he tugged at your hair to tilt your cheek to him, his tongue slithering to your lips to taste himself on his tongue from when you previously busted his nut with just your mouth.

Lipsticks smeared on his cheeks and crescent moons on his pale thigh from your nails, Satoru looked wonderful beneath you like this.

He was beautiful, so damn beautiful, but it didn’t change the fact he’d put you through hell these past few weeks.

No, it wasn’t just the past few weeks. Things were always complicated with him. He was perfect in everything else but when it came to you, he made it a mission to hide you and your relationship, changing your contact name to a totally random one “just in case.”

Your mind was confuzzled and you felt like you were on the urge of breaking apart from both his ministrations and his confusing treatment over you. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back fervently with the intensity of your hatred over this man.

Your hand reached his to guide it to rub at your clit, and Satoru, eager to make you feel good as always, happily obliged. Satoru kept bouncing you on his cock until you were too overwhelmed to speak, crying and mumbling incomprehensible words.

Him, only him, would ever have the ability to let the sharp-tongued and intelligent woman who never bat an eye in court lose her wide vocabulary, falling apart in his arms while his long length abused your puffy lips.

“You made me feel like shit,” you finally admitted, tugging at his hair until Satoru is lowly groaning at the slight sting. But did you care? Of course you didn’t. You wanted to hurt him too.

“How so, sweet girl?”

“I can never have you the way I want,” you answered through gritted teeth, moaning out when Satoru suddenly thrusted too deep, hitting your most sensitive spot that had you quivering in his hold. “You don’t—” you gasped, “You don’t understand what I feel, how you make me feel like I’m never good enough for you. That’s the reason why you don’t want anyone else knowing, right? ‘Cause I’m not good enough for you, never gonna be good—”

Satoru didn’t let you finish your words, shutting you up with his cock instead. The vehicle shook uncontrollably with your mating sessions, and Satoru silences you by pulling at your leg to press it on his chest instead.

The sudden switch in positions had your muscles tensing and stretching, adding only to both your pleasures with the new thrown in factor of slight pain. You felt Satoru kiss your neck down to your shoulders, scraping his canines until you were absolutely lost. You gave in, you gave up, head lolling back next to his loving lips that murmured sweet nothings.

“Not true, sweet girl,” he reminded you, flattening you on his cock and making you roll your hips while you slid up and down his pole sensually. Unlike the previous pace, the slow sensation of your pussy hugging his cock with your arousal letting him slide in easily allowed you to feel every part of him, almost mind-wrecking at how good he’s able to make you feel even after such a long time of having him already.

“You’re the sexiest and most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, the best, the absolute blessing of my life, and I just want to protect you, sweet girl. You’re too precious for me to lose,” Satoru kept mumbling over and over again.

You could no longer process his words functionally, not when he’s slamming you down his length like that and burying himself in you as if he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Satoru’s hands were still curious, appreciative and gentle as he runs his hands, dipping into all your curves and pressing into your most sensitive spots the way you liked it.

“You’re always so good for me so no, sweet girl, never gonna let you go, not when you’re so perfect for me,” Satoru eased your worries – temporarily – with his words, and you’d believe his lie, you’d fall into the same mistakes over and over again because you were just that weak and powerless when it came to him. “You’re made just for me, sweet girl, you’re the prettiest and your pussy is the prettiest – I worship you, I adore you. You’re so divine.”

You blamed it all on your ego.

He praised you so well, made you feel so good and always placed you on top of the world when he’s inside you like this. Even if you knew he’d knock you down the pedestal just hours later, you opened your doors for him all over again.

Satoru knew this too, because he rammed inside your walls and ruined everything that you held firm beliefs in, his large hands smacking your ass to urge you to bounce on him like you weren’t made for any other purpose than to be the woman he adored.

You lied to yourself – you always did – but did you care? So what if you couldn’t be the one he really loved? What did it all matter when you were the one he worshipped?

For the sake of the praise and the compliments, you’d let him fuck you and play with your heart over and over again. It was a toxic routine you’d never get tired of, and you no longer complained, forgetting about everything he’d done and every heartbreak he caused you because he was there, whispering into your ears how good you made him feel and how you were the only one made to take him, and you didn’t care. Not anymore – not when you were worshipped.

2K notes · View notes

uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

Text

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

#mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjirou x male reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo Revengers #Sano Manjirou #sano manjiro #manjiro sano #manjirou sano #i tried #im so sorry #pls dont cancel me #PSA: don't masturbate in the same room as baji

641 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 3 years

Text

shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not.

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had.

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good.

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin.

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.”

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up.

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.

“Know what?”

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around.

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings. Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become.

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly.

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him.

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.”

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university.

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting.

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.”

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you.

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?”

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information.

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.”

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist.

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years?

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.”

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits.

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away.

“P-please, Jungkook…”

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?”

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected.

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come.

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed.

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year.

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew.

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore.

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world.

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.”

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder.

#ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

1K notes · View notes

xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Boyfriend’s Best Friend - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader (ft. Kirishima)

Warnings: CRACK, Fluff, Cursing, Frisky moments

Summary: This was not how Bakugou wanted to spend his weekend. Trapped inside his best friend’s body?! Hell no. What makes it worse is that before he can tell you, you’ve already smothered Kirishima (who is in Katsuki’s body) with more than enough attention. Attention that belongs to the angry Pomeranian. And what does Kirishima think about all of this? Fuck nitroglycerin and boners.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This shit is gonna get real confusing so KEEP UP and STAY FOCUSED

“Shit.”

After fighting off that petty thief on their way back to school, the two best friends took a look at each other after feeling a throb in their heads. But something wasn’t right. Bakugou was looking at..Bakugou and Kirishima was looking at...Kirishima???

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!!” The red blonde headed boy asked. Kirishima made a face at his now very deep and gruff voice. He looked down and noticed his tan skin was the slightest bit paler and his clothes had changed. He turned his gaze towards the position where is best friend should be but only saw..well, himself.

“Argh, shut the hell up Shitty Hair. My head is pounding.” Bakugou said while holding onto his now red hair. He looked towards his friend to see a frantic look on his face. “Quit making me look like a bitch, Kirishima.”

“I can’t help it!! Not after what just happened!!” Kirishima said. Bakugou rolled his eyes and huffed before walking over to his friend and dragging him to a reflective window.

“We switched bodies you idiot. That damn thief must’ve hit us while we were distracted.” Bakugou took a look at his new body and cringed. Not that he thought Kirishima was ugly or anything, but he wanted to be in his own body. It just felt wrong having someone else’s dick.

“Well then we should get back to the dorms and find Mr. Aizawa. Maybe he can help.” Bakugou agreed and the boys started their journey back to the dormitory. As they walked, they took notice of a few things.

“Ugh. All these damn extras are staring at my hair.”

“My palms feel so sweaty.”

“Fuck! I keep biting my inner cheek. Stupid shark teeth.”

“Why the hell am I getting a random ass print?!”

“Nitroglycerin works like viagra Shitty Hair! Just fucking get used to it and learn how to control it!”

“I have your hair man! Does that mean you have shitty hair?”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!!”

“.....Is that..*sniff sniff*...caramel?”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

—

“You’ll be back to normal in 2 weeks.” Aizawa bluntly said.

“2 WEEKS?!?” The boys screamed.

“Wha- HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” Bakugou screamed, trying to jump onto Aizawa with Kirishima holding him back. To anyone else, it would look like Bakugou holding Kirishima back. Oh how the tables have kinda turned.

“I know because officers have been trying to catch this thief for some time now. Even I’ve run into him on some occasions. His quirk is is called ‘Swapped.’ He takes your soul and spirit and places it in a different form...obviously. It doesn’t do much harm but it lasts for some time. Don’t worry though, you’ll be back to normal eventually.” Their teacher explained. “‘Till then, just tough it out for the next 2 weeks. Dismissed.”

The boys groaned and walked back to the common room floor. They walked in to find a few other classmates who thankfully didn’t seem too suspicious of anything. The boys went their separate ways, going to their own dorms to soothe their still aching heads.

—

Kirishima was the first to come out of his room. After contemplating whether he should take a shower or not, he chose the latter. He could survive the rest of the day without one, he’ll just worry about bathing later. Besides, he doesn’t mind smelling like a sweet treat for the next few hours and you know…not having to see and wash his best friend’s body and dick.

He walked down into the kitchen to find it empty. He was glad he wouldn’t have to explain his situation to anyone. If anyone saw Bakugou acting like the sweet bean that Kirishima is then I’m pretty sure a lot of people would have questions.

Looking around, he saw a batch of brownies left on a tray. He couldn’t help himself and went in to grab one. Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware of how chewy they were and after taking a few chomps, he realized the treat was as tough as glue. He couldn’t even open his mouth! And just to his luck, Bakugou’s girlfriend had walked in, seemingly back from her training session.

“Hi baby.” Y/N said. She went up to who she thought was her boyfriend and gave him a hug along with a peck on his cheek. “How was your day?”

Kirishima grew nervous. He didn’t know how to handle this situation. He would totally tell Y/N that it was actually him in her boyfriend’s body but the brownie sealed his mouth shut! He resorted to going with the flow and just nodding with a nervous smile. A very Bakugou smile.

“Tiring?” Y/N asked. Kirishima nodded his head. “Umm..okay. Well, same for me, but I still have enough energy for movie night, so I’ll see you in the common room. ‘Kay?”

Again, the now blonde nodded his head again. You smiled at him and went in to give him another hug. To your shock, you felt something poking you when you gave your boyfriend a hug. You looked down and noticed a pretty impressive print through his sweats and smirked. You looked up to your “boyfriend” and gave him a sly look. “You sure you’re tired Suki? Cuz your friend down here says you’re down for something else.”

Kirishima began to shake due to his nervousness now. He couldn’t help the damn boner! One, nitroglycerin is apparently 12x stronger than viagra, and two! He can’t relieve himself! Looking at and touching his best friend’s dick was wrong! And weird! Even if it was attached to him now!

What Kirishima wasn’t prepared for was you being so willing to help relieve his stiffy. On the bright side, he’d relive his hard on. On the not so bright side, he’d be fucking his best bro’s girl. Big no no. He definitely wasn’t prepared for your hand to travel down his torso and grab onto his Bakugou’s dick. “You still tired Suki?”

Kirishima couldn’t help himself. It felt too good to stop. He threw his head back and enjoyed the stimulation, even though he knew it was wrong. All he knew was that if he let this whole thing play through, he wouldn’t have to worry about walking around with a huge ass boner. A blush grew on his face as he moaned. He felt you peck at his neck a bit before stopping all your motions. The now blonde looked towards you in confusion and saw your laughter.

“Hehe, sorry Suki. Save it for later tonight, okay? I’ve gotta freshen up but I’ll see you later, Love.” You said before giving him a sweet peck and walking away. Once you were out of sight, Kirishima fanned his face to try and get rid of his blush. He then quickly ran to the fridge and chugged a few gulps of milk down to wash away the brownie.

“Fuck.” Was all that he said. Did that really just happen? Shit. Should he have let that happen? At this point he didn’t know. The man in him said HELL NO, but the nitroglycerin said otherwise. All Kirishima knew was that apparently he had a movie date to get to.

—

So now here we are, Y/N and Kirishima (in Bakugou’s body) all cuddled up on one of the common room couches during the late hours of the night, watching a movie. Kirishima thought Y/N looked really tempting in her booty shorts and tube top. The way her plush chest pressed up against his own as she watched the screen with a smile wasn’t aiding Kirishima’s mission to relieve his hard on.

Throughout the whole movie, Kirishima watched from time to time how Y/N would rub her legs together. It seemed she was growing some urges as well. Kirishima couldn’t shake his nerves..like...AT ALL.

Finally. It was almost the end of the movie. Kirishima had almost made it. All he had to do was finish the last 10 minutes and he could go..well honestly he didn’t know yet but he’ll figure it out later! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans. Kirishima watched as Y/N sat up to grab the remote and turn off the T.V. She placed the object down on the table and faced who she assumed to be her boyfriend. She wrapped her arms around his neck and went to straddle his groin.

“Uh-..Y/N?” Kirishima asked with a shaky voice as he gulped down a nerve. You smirked at him and leaned down to leave kisses all over his neck. Kirishima shook a bit and let out a shudder at your soft lips.

“Relax Suki. We won’t get caught. ‘Sides, when have you ever been afraid to fuck in public?” You said. You then went up to start off your session with a hot kiss to “Katsuki’s” lips. Kirishima had wide eyes as you took in his lips, but eventually, your sweet taste and bouncy lips made him succumb to your wishes.

He placed his hands on your waist as he kissed you back. When he opened his mouth you slid your tongue in as your hands entangled themselves in his hair. The kiss was fiery and passionate and eventually you and “Katsuki” both began to moan into the kiss. His hands traveled to your ass and gave in a firm grip which made you release a loud moan. Things were definitely heating up now.

—

When Katsuki came back to the dorms, he had already been exhausted by the entire situation. The only thing on his mind was getting some rest to ware off the headache, hours had passed and he eventually woke up in the middle of the night.

“Shit, how long have I been out?” He stretched and yawned a bit before he got up. The mirror hanging on his wall reminded him of his new body. “Oh, right. I’m in Shitty Hair’s body......gross.”

Bakugou felt his mouth become dry and so he planned to get a glass of water from the kitchen. As he walked down the halls, he couldn’t help but think about you. His precious girl. The love of his life who’s been with him since childhood and who he’s been dating since their second year in junior high. You were with him through it all and he couldn’t help but feel a little bad that he had to miss movie night.

‘Fuck, did I even tell Y/N I wouldn’t make it to movie night? Crap,’ he thought. Oh well, he’d just have to make up for it later. As he walked near the common rooms, his ears picked up a sound. And not just any sound, it was a moan. And he knew exactly who’s moan it was, for he had been the cause of those exact sounds and he’s heard them time and time again.

Bakugou ran to the common rooms to find his girlfriend and his body making out and slowly grinding on each other on the couch. He watched “his” hands travel to grope Y/N’s ass and bit his lip when he heard his girlfriend’s pleasured moans. He wasn’t gonna lie, the scene before him had turned him on, but what became a huge turnoff was the fact that Bakugou knew it wasn’t him in there and he knew exactly who was in his damn body!

“THE HELL?!” Bakugou screamed in Kirishima’s voice. He watched the two of you jump away from each other in shock and saw a look of fear flow through Kirishima’s his own eyes.

“Jeez, Kirishima. You scared us.” You said to your actual boyfriend without knowing it. Bakugou fumed at the fact that you were just making out and were probably about to fuck his best friend but he couldn’t blame you. You called him Kirishima so you must’ve not known about the switch.

“Can I talk to Bakugou real quick, L/N?” Bleh. Calling someone else by his name was weird and calling you by your family name was very uncomfortable.

“Umm..we’re kinda in the middle of something so maybe if you could jus-“

“Thanks.” He said and dragged “Bakugou” away behind a hallway corner. He pinned his body up against the wall and got in Kirishima’s face as he held the man by his collar. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING KISSING MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

“IM SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO! SHE CAME ONTO ME!” Kirishima explained while being held against the wall.

“NO SHIT SHE CAME ONTO YOU! YOU’RE IN MY BODY! YOU’RE ME! I’M HER BOYFRIEND! SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE ME SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. Kirishima just laughed nervously as Bakugou continued to fume. After venting, Bakugou finally dropped Kirishima back on his feet and pressed the bridge of his nose with 2 fingers. “Okay. Why THE FUCK did you not tell her about the quirk?”

“Because man! .....Your quirk has built in viagra!” Kirishima said in defeat as he threw his hands in the air due to the pent up frustration. “I’ve had a fucking stiffy ever since I got put in your body! So I thought-“

“You thought you could relieve yourself with my girl?!” Bakugou asked with big, angry eyes.

“.....Yes?”

“KIRISHIMA!”

“ALRIGHT!” Kirishima sighed. “Well what now?”

“We go out there and explain to her what happened so you don’t end up fucking her!” Bakugou explained as he tried to walk back to you but Kirishima pulled him back.

“Okay but what about my fucking boner?” The pent up boy asked.

“Just rub it out!” Bakugou exclaimed.

“No way! I’m not touching your dick!” Kirishima rebelled.

“Why not? I’m clean. And big! Just saying, I got a pretty dick dude.” Bakugou said with both hands up in defense.

“BAKUGOU!”

“Yeah, fair.” The ex blonde said. The boys thought about it for a bit before something hit Kirishima like a train.

“Wait..if you’re so okay with me seeing your dick..does that mean..you took a look at mine?!” He asked while shaking Bakugou’s his shoulders.

“What?! Gross! No! I was napping all day Shitty Hair so relax! And get your damn hands offa’ me!” Bakugou said while squirming out of Kirishima’s hold.

“Alright, fine whatever! Let’s just go out and explain to L/N.” Kirishima said.

“Good!”

“Goooooodd!” Bakugou said more dramatically. The two boys finally made it back to you and instead of your boyfriend’s body taking a seat next to you, it remained standing. Meanwhile, “Kirishima” took the seat “Katsuki” previously had. You looked towards the red head and then to your boyfriend in a confused tilt.

“Suki? Are you gonna sit?” You asked to “Bakugou.”

“I am.” “Kirishima” replied. You looked towards the muscular boy sitting next to you with a raised brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“Listen, L/N, we got something to tell you.” The actual Kirishima said. You looked to your “boyfriend” with almost a hurt look on your face as to why he was calling you by your family name. The real Bakugou took notice of your sad voice and softened his eyes at your now upset demeanor. “I’m actually Kirishima...”

Your face grew in surprise and then silence hit the room. The boys gazed your looks for a reaction but got nothing other than pure shock. You couldn’t even say anything other than “Eh?!”

“Yeaahhhh..I’m your actual boyfriend.” The red head said. You looked to Kirishima and inspected him closer.

“Uh..Suki?” You said while zooming in of his face.

“Tch. It’s me Teddy Bear, relax,” Bakugou said while looked away with a blushed face as he pushed your face away. You grumbled at his push and took his hand off.

“Yup. That’s you.” You said, relaxing. “So...you’re Katsuki..and you’re Kirishima?”

You watched the boys nod their heads and you were settling down until another thought came to mind. “Wait..so I was-..on the couch-...I thought-...”

“Yeah, you were making out with Shitty Hair but in my body..” Bakugou said with a hand behind his neck. Your face jumped in shock once more until it was replaced with anger. You watched as Kirishima’s new face became nervous and gave a shaky chuckle.

“Kirishima...” you seethed with slanted eyes before you attempted to jump onto the new blonde. Mid-jump, Bakugou grabbed onto your waist and pulled you back onto his lap. You fought against Katsuki’s hold on you but alas he was too strong.

“Nope! No, settle, settle.” Bakugou said with an iron grip on your waist. You finally calmed down until you took notice you were sitting in BASICALLY Kirishima’s lap. Feeling uncomfortable you scooted off your boyfriend and sat next to him. Bakugou looked at you with a confused expression that demanded an explanation.

“Heh..sorry um, Suki. But I’m not sitting on you or doing...anything else that’s lovey dovey until you’re back to your own body.” You explained.

“Wha- that’s not fair! You were all over here grinding on him just a few minutes ago!” Bakugou whined and pointed at his body.

“Because I didn’t know it wasn’t you!” Bakugou just grumbled and groaned at you. Your reasoning was fair but he just wanted his girlfriend.

“Okay, whatever. Be pouty. Just- When is this quirk gonna wear off?” You asked. Bakugou continued to pout with crossed arms but luckily Kirishima answered.

“2 weeks.” He said.

“Alright then!” You said while clapping your hands and standing up, gathering Katsuki’s attention. “For the next 2 weeks or until you go back to normal, Suki, no touching, no kisses, no overly-friendly hugs, no cuddles, no lap-sitting....”

Bakugou listened to you list all the things he couldn’t do. As you went on, his jaw dropped as he realized he wouldn’t be able to do all the things he usually does to you for the next 2 weeks. The list went on and on until you finished it with one final detail. “...and finally. No sex.”

“WHAT?!” Bakugou said while standing up now. “WHY?!”

“Katsuki. I’m not fucking my boyfriend’s best friend’s body. No offense Kiri,” you said to the other boy.

“None taken!” He said with his winning smile. Just less shark-toothy. Bakugou just mumbled about until you cut him off.

“Anyways! I’m going to bed. After this long and frankly awkward day, I think we all should.” You said and the boys agreed. You all walked to your respected dorms but when Bakugou tried following you into your dorm while he was still in Kirishima’s body, you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Uh, sorry Suki. You’ll be sleeping in your own dorm for the next 2 weeks. No sleeping together either.” You watched as Bakugou became much more agitated as he huffed. He grumbled as he reluctantly walked all the way to his own dorm room. You giggled as you watched the now red head walk away and shut your door. You couldn’t help but laugh as you laid down on your bed but 10 minutes passed and before you could fall asleep, a knock was at your door.

“Suki, I said we can’t sleep on my bed together.” You said once you opened the door, finding Kirishima’s body holding a pillow and blanket.

“I know it’s just- *sigh* look, if I can’t cuddle with you can I at least sleep on the ground and hold your hand?” He said, looking away with an embarrassed blush. “I know you said hand-holding isn’t allowed but you won’t be seeing me since I’ll be out of your sight and on the ground.”

You smiled at how clingy he was being. It was adorable and you just had to give in. “Fine, come in.”

Katsuki perked up with a small smile and happily followed you into the room. You got comfy on the bed while he set up his little pillow and blanket. You finally dropped your hand down so he could hold onto it and his warm hand held a strong grip on your own.

So now here you were, late at night, “cuddling” with your boyfriend. In a way. You smiled as you held onto his hand and couldn’t help but giggle when you felt his lips place a sweet kiss to your knuckles. Oh well, I guess there was nothing wrong with holding hands with your boyfriend’s best friend. As long as it’s your boyfriend who’s in his best friend’s body.

You couldn’t believe this was gonna be your life for the next 2 weeks.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

720 notes · View notes

sodasback · 3 years

Text

Let Go

Reposting Let Go from my deleted accounts. Minor edits made.

JJ Maybank x Reader

Just SMUT. Real filthy smut.

Warnings: Very explicit sexual content. Cursing. All consensual. 18+

JJ got a gig cleaning pools on Figure 8 for the summer. And your family had a pool. Ergo, JJ was at your house every couple weeks cleaning your pool.

Of course, you knew JJ Maybank. He was the gorgeous bad boy Pogue every girl swooned over. And JJ Maybank knew you too. You were the Kook man-eater, currently on the arm of none other than Rafe Cameron. And sure you and Rafe had a good time together and you loved how possessive he was over you, but you both knew deep down your relationship was all about status. You were the ultimate young power couple of Figure 8.

You and JJ, on the other hand, despised each other. …but like many have said, there’s a thin line between love and hate. And the truth was: you and JJ hated each other because you wanted what the other seemed to have.

You wanted to be free. Free of the obligation and the standards and the suffocating expectations. And JJ wanted to feel secure and cared for. Fuck, he just wanted to know where his next meal was coming from and what roof he was gonna sleep under without getting yelled at.

Right now, JJ was standing shirtless and sweaty with perfectly messy wet hair as he used the net to get crap out of the pool at your house while you were coming home from a day of waxing, tanning, manicures and pedicures.

You saw JJ and decided your day just hadn’t had enough excitement in it yet.

“Hey pool boy” You called to him with the perfect amount of flirtation and snobbery. JJ looked up at you.

“You missed a spot.” You said, pointing to the leaves that were in the pool near you. He walked over to you with his usual cocky, Kook-hating attitude.

“Yeah, so did whoever sprayed that fake tan on you.” He retorted back, gesturing to a blotchy spot on your hip exposed by your cropped tank top.

You looked down at it, “Fuck!” you cursed, causing JJ to laugh as he scooped the leaves out of the pool.

“Shit, money can buy you everything, can’t it Y/L/N?” JJ asked casually, “Fake hair, fake tan, fake nails. Is anything about you real?” He asked looking down at your bare cleavage pushing up through your top.

“There’s only one way for you to find out.” Your was voice dripping in sex and JJ looked at you in shock, not expecting your answer as his lips parted slightly, exactly the reaction you wanted.

“...too bad I don’t date stoner surf bums though.” You shrugged.

And JJ regained the composure he lost for a second as he leaned the net against the wall and turned back to face you.

“Yeah, you prefer psychotic, spoiled coke addicts, right?” He narrowed his eyes down at you and you glared at him.

“He doesn’t do that shit anymore.” You stated definitively, referring to Rafe’s drug habit.

JJ snorted and nodded at you, “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night princess. …But I did literally just see him doing lines and drinking cocktails when I was cleaning the Cameron’s pool today.”

You felt disappointed, hurt and angry at this news. Because 1. Rafe canceled plans with you today to do “something important” for his dad and 2. You also knew Rafe wouldn’t usually drink and get high by himself, so you were pretty sure JJ was leaving part of the story out. 3. Rafe promised he wasn’t using coke anymore.

“You know he’s an asshole, right?” JJ asked, wanting you to admit you were a better person than your reputation made you out to be.

You were quiet as you internally acknowledged that JJ was right.

Without an answer from you, he sighed, “But I guess… superficial Kook princess like you will tolerate just about anything to make mommy and daddy happy with that Cameron last name.” He shrugged.

You smirked at this, “You almost sound a little jealous, Maybank.”

JJ scoffed, but you continued taking a step towards him as he held his ground. “I mean, I may not be some desperate tourist or some grungy surfer chick, but I know you think I’m hot.”

JJ broke eye contact with you and shook his head, opening his mouth to object but you took another step towards him and you could hear his breathing falter slightly as he looked back at you. So now you were ready to lie and say the thing you needed to say to get what you and JJ both desperately desired.

“And I know you wanna fuck me.” You said dangerously, taking another step so you and JJ’s bodies were almost touching, running a finger down JJ’s bare abs, making him shiver before you looked up at him, “But you’re scared. You’re scared that you wouldn’t live up to Rafe Cameron because you’re just a dirty, little Pogue from The Cut and-”

“Shut the fuck up.” JJ commanded through gritted teeth as he grabbed your hips and pushed you roughly against the wall of the pool house. You gasped and your eyes widened.

You and JJ both knew you said what you said to get to this point: You looking up at JJ with a little fear in your eyes as your heart raced and your core clenched. And JJ looking down at you like a wolf trapping his prey as he pressed your body firmly into the wall behind you with a harsh grip on your hips. He stepped in closer to you, pressing his body into your’s to keep you in place as he lifted one hand to grip your chin and smush your cheeks a little bit.

“You run that little mouth of your’s so much and no one ever puts you in your fucking place.”

You let the shock of JJ actually making this move leave as quickly as it came and you pushed back against JJ’s chest with your hands and tried to push his arm away from your face, not wanting to give in so easily. But JJ wrestled with your squirming body and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them on either side of your head. You huffed in frustration.

This caused you both to smile at each other, knowing this is what you wanted. But just in case, JJ loosened his grip on your wrists ever so slightly and looked in your eyes seriously for a second, “Hey, you want this right? Say ‘red’ if you actually wanna stop, yeah?” He asked. You looked in his eyes and nodded.

“Like how far do you want me to take this?” He checked one more time.

“Anything JJ” You told him. And he still looked unsure. “I’ll say ‘red’ if I want you to stop, promise.” And he searched your face for a second, then nodded at you sweetly before he smirked going right back “into character.”

His grip on your wrists tightened as he moved them further above your head so he could hold both of them with one hand and move his other hand to squeeze your chin and cheeks again.

“I know you’ve wanted this for a long time. I see the way you look at me. You think I don’t, but I know you open your window whenever I’m here cleaning the pool, so you can catch a glimpse of me. Or even when you’re with your douche boyfriend and see me on the street. You think I don’t see the double take you do?” He said and you tried to turn your head away from him, but he firmly turned your chin so you’d look at him again. JJ moved his grip to your jaw so you could talk.

“If you noticed all that, that means you were looking at me too. At the beach, you stare at me in my bikini. And I saw you at Boneyard parties watching me dance with my friends.” You told him.

JJ just narrowed his eyes at you, knowing he had gotten caught too. You slipped one of your wrists free and grabbed JJ’s wrist to move his hand from your jaw. But he overpowered you and pinned your arm to your side.

“So if you’ve wanted this for such a long time, why are you still fighting it? Are you this much of a fucking brat for Cameron?” JJ asked, still looking in your eyes before he moved next to your head to whisper in your ear.

You closed your eyes feeling his hot breath hit your ear as he continued, “I think it’s because, unlike me, we both know, he doesn’t give a fuck if he makes you feel good.”

JJ pressed a small kiss just below your ear and then nibbling and sucking on your earlobe causing you to let out the smallest whimper you couldn’t hold back.

“You know I’m gonna make you feel better than he ever has, but you can’t admit that, even to yourself, so you’re gonna resist me as much as you can so you can feel like you aren’t betraying him and being a shitty girlfriend for letting a pogue, none the less, be the one to make you so wet.”

JJ continued, sucking on your neck just a little and speaking again, “And you get to run the show wherever you go and even if you won’t say it, you crave for someone to take control from you and put you in your place. For once, in your god-damned spoiled princess life, you want someone to not let you be in charge.” He finished as he pressed his body against your’s before checking your expression.

You chest was heaving up and down as you breathed heavily being way more turned on having JJ Maybank pin you against a wall than you cared to admit. You glared at him with a furrow in your brow. Then you surged forward. JJ released your wrists and you grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other as your lips crashed on his. JJ’s hand immediately went to the back of your upper thigh as he hitched one of your legs onto his hip. His other hand was squeezing your torso; his thumb sneaking underneath your bra and skimming the underside of your boob in the most aggravatingly teasing way possible.

Your mouths were already open, tongues wrestling each other, teeth hitting in the process. You jumped up and wrapped your other leg around JJ’s waist as he squeezed your legging-covered thighs.

After the initial surge of adrenaline, you both slowed down a little. You tugged at the roots of JJ’s hair and he groaned a little before biting your bottom lip and pulling away from you slightly, giving your thighs a hard squeeze at the same time.

When JJ released your lower lip, you pulled away from him, “Pool house.” Was all you said before your lips started moving against each other again and JJ walked through the door of the pool house, into the guest bedroom.

He kicked the door shut behind him as he nudged your head to the side to start leaving hot, wet open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck causing you to moan as he let your legs slide down his waist so you were standing again.

His hands gripped your hips as he kept working on your neck while he walked you backwards towards the bed. He gave you no space as you fell back onto the bed and he continued to crawl over you, now taking his time to suck your neck as he propped himself up with arm near your shoulder. The other hand massaging your hip.

“Maybank, no hickeys. …Rafe.” You said. And really you said it for both your sakes, knowing if Rafe found out who you cheated on him with, it wouldn’t be good for either of you, but worse for JJ for sure.

“I really don’t give a fuck.” JJ said as he continued leaving more hickeys along your neck just to spite Rafe even more.

“Take your top off.” JJ commanded.

You rolled your eyes and took your tank top off before JJ’s hand flew to your throat holding it with only slight pressure. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” He said calmly and almost teasingly, which only made it that much more intimidating. He knew he was really pushing your limits of being told what to do.

So after the breath hitched in your throat, you just stared at him defiantly in a stand off. JJ raised his eyebrows expecting an answer from you, but you stayed silent, rubbing your lips together firmly, contemplating your next move so JJ snaked his fingers in your hair and slowly but firmly pulled, cranking your neck to the side and eliciting a sigh full of pleasure and pain to escape your now open mouth. “Fine.” You spat out.

JJ let out a dark chuckle. “You’re such a fucking brat. But you love this don’t you?” He asked before dipping a finger in your bra cup and pulling it down so your breasts were exposed to him.

He took a moment to admire them as he squeezed one before going down and swirling his tongue around your other nipple and biting at it lightly. He looked up at you, “You like to push back because you want me to show you how much stronger I am than you. You love being dominated, huh?”

You took a deep breath as JJ put his mouth on your boob and sucked a harsh hickey there, while his hand started playing with the waist line of your leggings teasing you. “You love feeling helpless underneath me?”

He snuck his fingers underneath your leggings and your lace thong but didn’t move further yet, “Answer me.”

And with the anticipation of JJ finally touching you where you need him, the answer easily fell from your lips “Yes” you breathed out.

“Good girl” JJ praised as he ran his fingers through your folds. You let out a pained breath at finally being touched but JJ also saw the way your mouth twitched like you were going to object and then stopped.

JJ chuckled. “You don’t usually like being called a good girl. But you wanna be my good girl, don’t you?” He asked gently stroking your clit, causing you to close your eyes and open your mouth.

Then, JJ abruptly plunged a finger into you, “Don’t you?” He asked more sternly this time.

“Fuck! Yes.” You answered.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s see how much of a good girl you can be. Take off your leggings and your bra and get on your knees.” JJ said as he quickly pulled his fingers from you. And stood up from the bed.

You sat up on the bed and gaped at him as he smiled at you evilly. He knew he was really pushing your limits, but he also knew it was only turning both of you on even more.

“Seriously JJ?!” You asked getting mad about all the teasing.

When you didn’t immediately get up and follow JJ’s orders, he came over and put his hand under your chin as he pulled your lower lip down with his thumb, “Don’t make me tell you twice, sweetheart.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but grabbed his wrist as his thumb released your lip, to pull yourself up from the bed.

JJ took a step back as you stripped down to just your thong. You smiled, catching him indulging himself drinking in your naked body.

“Knees” he reminded you. And before you could even do it, JJ said, “Don’t even think about rolling your eyes.” You gathered all your strength to not be bratty back with a deep breath as you got on your knees in front of JJ.

As much as you had a love-hate relationship with the way JJ was teasing you, being in this position, on your knees in front of him, only made your panties that much more drenched. Your hands wasted no time going to his swim trunks and pulling them down releasing his cock as it slapped up against his stomach. Your mouth was practically watering.

JJ ran a hand through your hair, “Is my good girl desperate to have me in her mouth?”

“Are you gonna keep making me answer questions this whole time or are you gonna let me suck your dick?” You asked bluntly.

JJ smiled, but harshly pulled your hair eliciting a whiny “ow” from you.

“For once, you need to work for everything you get and you need to be the one not in charge Y/N. And then I’ll make you feel better than any guy ever has. But you have to be good.”

“What if I’m not?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.

JJ smiled, “Then there’s just gonna be more pain with your pleasure.” He said simply and then added, “But I’m learning you’d probably like that too. You’re dirtier than I thought. You like being a little slut, huh?”

You contemplated. Wondering if you should give in to JJ or keep resisting.

You looked up at him and nodded, “Mhmm”

He smiled down at you knowing he had won a little. He pumped his cock a few times. “You want my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes, JJ” you breathed out.

“Tell me how much you want it. Work for it.”

You gathered more strength and finally decided to fully submit to JJ’s whole power dynamic.

“JJ please, I want your cock down my throat.” You said, placing your hand below his, around his cock.

“Put your mouth on it baby.” He encouraged. And you licked your lips before running your tongue along the underside of it. JJ took a sharp inhale and gathered your hair in a ponytail as you wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue around the head. You took more of him in your mouth sucking as your hand pumped the rest.

“Fuck Y/N.” JJ groaned and threw his head back. Your head bobbed up and down on his length as saliva started to drip down your chin just a little. Each time you went down, you took a tiny bit more of him into your mouth. One hand now running your nails along his thigh.

Finally, you took all of JJ in your mouth and his cock hit the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Fuck” JJ cursed again. He let you be in control for a few moments longer before he couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth.

“Ahh you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N. You take my cock so well.” He told you as he hit the back of throat repeatedly. “Touch yourself baby. Is choking on my cock making you wet?”

You slid your fingers through your painfully throbbing cunt and opened your eyes to look up at JJ and nodded. JJ pulled out of your mouth completely letting you breathe. “You want more baby?” He asked and you nodded your head eagerly.

“I want you to cum down my throat, J” you said. JJ bit his lip and looked at you painfully, having so many places in mind where he wanted to cum. “Fuck” He cursed again as you took him back in your mouth.

“Put your hands behind your back, pretty girl.” He said and you immediately obeyed as he fucked your face. A few more thrusts and JJ was cumming down your throat and you continued bobbing your head up and down on his cock working him through it while you swallowed. JJ pulled his cock from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting the two as you caught your breath. JJ’s body was flooded with a rush of oxytocin motivating him to lift you from the ground and onto the bed.

“Fuck, so good for me baby.” He said, wiping the saliva and cum from the corner of your mouth his thumb and then peppering kisses along your jaw and neck.

You ran your hand through his hair and pulled him away from you for a second so you could kiss his mouth. JJ and you kissed sensually as he held some of his body weight off you and then he started kissing his way down to your stomach.

He left one more gentle kiss just above the waistline of your thong before he put his arms under each of your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed while he got on his knees on the ground. He sucked red marks that would surely be turning purple on your inner thighs as he ran his finger underneath the side of your thong multiple times.

“JJ stop teasing and do something already.” You whined.

JJ chuckled, “Someone’s desperate” he teased as he pulled your panties down your legs.

“Spread your legs for me” He commanded as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs again and took a long look at your dripping cunt like he was looking at a piece of cake. “Ahh your pretty little pussy is so wet, Y/N. Who are you this wet for?”

“You, JJ.” You sighed out feeling his warm breath hit your core and dying for some physical contact.

“That’s right baby” He praised smugly before giving your clit a gentle kiss and then kitten licks that quickly turned to sucking on your clit.

You immediately threw your head back and closed your eyes at the pleasure. JJ was truly an expert at eating pussy. After giving your clit attention he moved down and fucked your cunt with his tongue causing your legs to clench around him and your hips to move. JJ untangled his arm from under your thigh, and grabbed one of your hands as he laid his forearm across your lower stomach to keep you still. You moved your other hand into his hair, tugging at it and making him moan into you. He then sunk 2 fingers into you and pumped in and out; curling them in just the right way while sucking on your clit again.

You moaned loudly as your legs began to quiver. “Fuck JJ!”

“You’re close pretty girl. Let go. Cum for me.” He told you and you let the rubber band snap and the waves of your orgasm rush over you. You tried to close your legs but JJ kept them open working you through it and lapping up every drop of your cum he could before you pushed his head away gently. JJ stood up and pulled you up to a sitting position on the side of the bed after you caught your breath.

JJ held his fingers dripping in your cum in front of your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth and sucked on his fingers, tongue swirling around them. “Such a good little whore for me.” You leaned forward, loving the way JJ talked to you and he noticed.

He pulled his fingers from you mouth and held your chin tilted up at him. “God, you’re so much kinkier than I thought. You like being called names, huh?”

You nodded and then looked away and blushed. “I like when you call me names. I don’t know why- I-”

“No. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s fucking hot. I love that you wanna be called my little cockslut. That for once you don’t need to be this perfect Kook. You can be a dirty little slut for me.” He said pecking your cheek and rubbing his thumb across your chin.

Then, he paused for a second like he was hesitant about something but then he said, “Open your mouth for me and stick out your tongue.” He commanded as he pulled down your chin with his thumb.

You did as you were told and stuck out your tongue. JJ bent down a little and spit in your mouth. “Fucking swallow.” He ordered lowly. And you swallowed it greedily, feeling your pussy throbbing again. JJ noticed your legs rubbing together and he grew hard again at the sight of you being turned on from him spitting in your mouth.

“Fuck” JJ cursed to himself for the umpteenth time. Then, he was caught off guard as you pulled him onto the bed and crawled on top of him.

“JJ, I need you inside me.” You told him as you straddled him and pinned his wrists to the bed.

JJ looked at you amused, “Oh you think you’re gonna be on top for this?” JJ asked incredulously.

You smiled at him. “Yup” you said, as you released one of his wrists so you could line him up with your entrance. But before you could, JJ easily flipped the two of you over and pinned your arms down.

“JJ!” You protested in frustration and tried to sit up or flip over again, but JJ just kissed you hard into the mattress. Then he sunk into you, pulling away from the kiss at the same time to hear your moan as you felt him fill you up.

“Shit y/n/n.” JJ hissed, “You’re so tight, baby.” He laced his fingers through your’s, “Ready?” He asked. You nodded your head. And JJ started to rock his hips slowly into you.

“Faster, J” You told him and he just smirked at you causing you to furrow your brow in confusion.

“Beg for it.” He stated.

“JJ” You warned sternly and you wrapped your legs around his waist to try and get leverage to flip you both over so you could control the pace but it was no use.

“Nice try. ..Tell me I’m better than Rafe and I’ll give you what you want.” He said smugly. You immediately rolled your eyes and JJ stopped completely.

“Wrong move princess. Get on your elbows and knees, ass up.” he commanded darkly as he pulled out of you. You whined at the empty feeling. “I’m not telling you again.” JJ said.

“Relax” You grumbled as you got on your elbows and knees and JJ immediately landed a hard slap to your ass.

“Ow! Fuck J!” You yelled at him. JJ spotted a scarf hanging off the headboard and grabbed it.

“Sit up on your knees. Give me your hands” He said tying your hands together with the scarf.

“Really JJ?” You asked.

“You know, I wonder how hard I need to go to fuck that attitude out of you” JJ wondered out loud as he turned to grab something else.

“Maybe if you actually fucked me hard, you could find ou-” You couldn’t finish what you were saying because JJ had stuffed your drenched lace thong in your mouth making you even more turned on and frustrated at the same time.

JJ pushed you down onto you elbows and then propped your ass up further in the air. “There” he said satisfied landing another slap to your other ass cheek causing a muffled squeak to come from you.

“You’ve been such a bratty little slut for me. I don’t think you deserve to get fucked. But I can’t resist your tight little cunt.” JJ said sinking into you from behind. “Fuck Y/N” he groaned stretching you out again and then slamming into you hard. He continued thrusting into you and then felt your walls clench a little. “Don’t you dare cum, pretty girl.”

“Please JJ” You whined around your thong. JJ reached around and pulled your panties from you mouth. “What was that sweetheart?”

“Please JJ.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum. I’ll do anything.” You begged as he continued thrusting into you.

“Tell me I’m better than Rafe.” He spat out.

“Yes, JJ you’re better than Rafe. Fuck!”

“Are you mine or his?” He asked.

“I’m your’s JJ. I’m a filthy little slut for you. Please!” You whimpered.

“Cum all over my cock, baby.” He told you. Your orgasm hit you hard and JJ fucked you through it and then he kept going and reached a hand around to play with your clit. You whimpered from the overstimulation.

“Fuck J, stop, too much.” You whined. And tried to move his hand away. He used his other hand to pull you up by your hair so your back was flush against his chest. “Fucking take it.” He said through gritted teeth as a second orgasm built. “Cum with me one more time. Be my filthy little cockslut baby.”

You moaned loudly as JJ bit into your shoulder and you both reached your climax again. JJ thrusted slowly as you came down from your highs. He slowly pulled out of you and gently laid you both down. He pulled the comforter over you both as you turned to face him and nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as you both laid together naked and completely blissed out.

“You okay? Was that okay? Did we go too far?” JJ asked with his chin on the top of your head. You leaned back a little so he could see your face.

“That was fucking hot Maybank.” You said and pecked his lips before snuggling back into him. He let out a relieved chuckle and pecked the top of your head.

As you laid there in JJ’s arms, you felt …free. You reached a hand around to comb through JJ’s hair at the back of his head as you rubbed your thumb back and forth his skin where your hand was on his back. And JJ felt …secure and taken care of.

It turned out that you could give each other what the other one so desperately needed.

#JJ Maybank #JJ Maybank Imagine #JJ Maybank Fanfiction #JJ Maybank x Reader #JJ Maybank x Y/N #JJ Maybank Smut #Outer Banks #Outer Banks Imagine #Outer Banks Fanfiction #Obx #Obx Imagine #Obx Fanfiction

899 notes · View notes