#BYE I WAS GONE THE ENTIRE MORNING AND NOT EVEN A GOOD MORNING

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

#teepods.writings #fics. #thirstee! #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: Based on the request asked here! This was absolutely adorable, I hope y'all like it!

WC: 2.2k

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Warnings: oral (fem! recieving), protected sex (for the first time ever...), daddy kink (is it really Chan without one?), the reader is called baby girl, good girl, and baby; idk what else tbh!

You didn’t expect to shatter your entire leg just trying to get a dish from the top cabinet of your kitchen, but here you were, having to wear a cast for 4 months, just to make sure that your leg is healing properly even after getting surgery. 

It wasn’t really your fault or rather your cat Boots. If she hadn’t come underneath you, you wouldn’t been terrified to step on her and wouldn’t have slipped. Explaining to 911 how you broke your leg was one of the most embarrassing things you had ever gone through. 

Thankfully, your leg wasn’t as bad as you thought it was, but you were still going to need physical therapy to get it moving again. At first, you were opposed to it, saying that you could “do it yourself” after getting your cast off, but you were so wrong. 

You were wobbling and waddling like a baby giraffe, and you knew that if you didn’t get help you would never get better, and you didn’t want to live with a busted leg for the rest of your life. That was when Chan came into play. 

He was a new physical trainer, but a kind one nonetheless. He knew what he was doing and was so gentle with you, making sure that he wasn’t exerting you too much, but still enough to help you recover. 

“Hi Boots” he giggled, rubbing the underside of his chin as he entered your apartment. You were walking around a lot better since your last session, wanting to make sure you were completing the training exercises he gave you, you had to get back to work as soon as possible. 

It wasn’t hard leaving your bakery to your co-baker to take care of your shop, you trusted them, but it was hard sitting on your ass all day leaving them to morning and brunch traffic. 

The only upside to staying home all day was that you could try new recipes for the shop, which always ended up going to Chan when he came over. 

He took a sniff of the air, noticing the smell of cinnamon wafting throughout your kitchen. 

“Good, you are here!” you giggled, running (more like limping) towards him. “Woah, let’s calm down, shall we? You are getting better, but not that fast” he chuckled.

You simply nodded, going back to a normal pace, a tray of brownies in your hands. “I need you to try these” You held out a brownie for him to try. 

“I’m gonna gain so much weight from being here, it’s unhealthy” he sighed taking a bite, moaning at the taste. “Snickerdoodle brownies? What are you doing to me woman!” he chuckled taking another bite. 

“Don’t worry, they are good for bulking or whatever your gym bros call it. Now tell me, are they good or not?” He looked down at you, you were so adorable, your doe eyes pleading for a response while your lips pouted a bit.

Damn, he wanted to kiss that pout right off your lips, but you were his client and this was strictly professional. You would never feel the same way, would you?

“These are damn good, my friend would love these” he thought to Felix and his huge sweet tooth. “Then take some for him! I’ll pack them, I made too many anyways” you giggled, walking back to your kitchen, putting them in a container for him. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. But on to the more serious business, have you been doing your stretches?” 

“Yes sir!” you giggled, not seeing the slight blush on his cheeks. “I feel like I could be more flexible than a ballerina”

The two of you talked as he helped you with your exercise, helping you complete each and every one. 

“Bye Channie!” you waved him goodbye as he walked out your door, reminding you to do your daily exercises, which you just simply nodded at. You needed to get better because fuck you could feel yourself get hornier by the day, the tension inside you was building up and your vibrator wasn’t doing the job anymore. 

Two more weeks had passed by and it was your final session with Chan. Your leg had started to feel better, you could jog on it and there was no longer a limp. You were talking to him as he helped stretch your leg. 

Looking up at him, you could only look at his lips as he talked, the thought of him running his lips all over your body. You could feel yourself get hot, and your panties getting a bit damper.

“Hey baby, are you okay?” he asked. It was his designated pet name for you, trying to help you giggle through pt. 

“Hmm, what? Yeah, I’m doing fine!” you squeaked and you just heard him giggle from above you. 

“Well that wraps this up, you can now do whatever you want with that leg, as long as it’s not running for a couple more weeks.” 

“Anything?” you asked, trying to get a better feeling of what you could do, trying to make sure sex was on the table. 

“Yup, anything but running, and other physical activities that would take too much out of you,” he said, bopping your nose like you were a kid. 

“So sex is off the table?” you sighed, you couldn’t believe that you had said it out loud, but you couldn’t help yourself. It had been months that you had been pent up, and you just needed something, anything. 

“I don’t think it should be, as long as the person knows that you can’t do too much”

He rubbed the back of his neck, too embarrassed to look directly at you. “So, someone like you?” you asked, feeling a bit more confident in the way you spoke. 

“What?” He looked at you in a state of shock, unsure if he heard you correctly. “Please, it hurts so bad, I need you” you whimpered, feeling your wetness begin to seep through your underwear. 

“Baby, you aren’t lying to me right now, are you?” 

You simply shake your head no, causing him to walk up to you, picking you up in his arms. “Where’s the bedroom?” 

You simply pointed to the door to your room, and he walked you there bridal style, laying you on the bed. “Fuck, wanted this for so long. Let’s see if you taste as sweet as your desserts”

He slowly pulled down your leggings, throwing them somewhere in your room, but you didn’t mind. He began to kiss up your thighs, hearing your sighs of contentment. You looked beautiful beneath him, and he couldn’t wait to ravish you. 

“Baby, you look so good. If you asked me before, I would have done it in a heartbeat.” 

Before you could even reply, he licked a stripe against your underwear, causing you to moan. “So wet, just for me?” 

“Just for you Channie, please need you” 

“You are just such a needy little girl, so pent up” 

You nodded along, needing him to do anything to your body. You just needed some sort of stimulation. He kissed your wet cunt through your underwear before he bit the band of it, dragging it down your thighs with his teeth. 

“What a pretty cunt” he whispered into it before dragging his tongue through your folds. You moaned at the contact of his warm tongue licking you. “I was right, you taste just as sweet” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against your clit, practically slurping you like a man starved. “Do you want me to add my fingers, stretch you out like the good girl you are?”

“Please” you pleaded, the back of your knees resting on his shoulders as he slowly added a finger into your pussy, causing you to moan. His fingers were thick and long, you could only imagine what his cock felt like deep inside of you.

“Baby you are so tight, bet you haven’t been fucked well in months. Not to mention how wet you are for me, you are fucking soaked baby girl”

“So wet, just for you daddy” 

“Fuck, so wet just for Daddy, aren’t you a good girl for me?” You nodded as he slowly added a second finger, causing you to clamp your hand around your mouth, tightening your thighs around his head. “Baby, be good for Daddy and take that hand off your mouth, want to hear you while I eat you out” 

You whined, but moved your hand, not wanting to be a brat while he was making you feel so good. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of you as he absolutely ravished your cunt. He had never tasted something as good as you, he was addicted and he never wanted to stop. 

He began to hit that spot inside of you that caused your pants to get heavier. Your mouth was hung open as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Come on baby, tell Daddy how it feels,” He said, straight into your cunt causing you to feel the vibrations of his mouth as he spoke directly into it. 

His nose slightly rubbed against your clit as he went back, slurping at your hole as his fingers thrust inside of you faster. 

“Fuck Daddy feels so good. You feel so good Channie, can’t hold it in anymore” you screamed. 

“Then be a good girl and cum for Daddy, cum all over my fingers and mouth” 

And you did, you felt your body shake as you held his head in between your thighs, borderline crushing it as your hands ran against his hair. He didn’t stop, overstimulating your body as he continued to eat you. 

He slowly removed his head from your cunt, your juices covering his face as he licked his fingers clean. “Fuck you taste so good, might have to come back for more after I fuck you”

You simply nodded, sitting up a bit to paw at his shorts, trying to indicate that he should take them off. “Please, need your cock, Daddy, need you inside of me” you whispered. 

“How could I say no to such a good girl?” He slowly removed his shorts and boxers, allowing you to see the sheer size of his cock. He was huge, and you were thankful he fingered you beforehand to stretch you out or else you would have struggled to take his cock. 

“Where do you keep your condoms baby?” 

“Top drawer” 

He pulled out a condom, tearing the foil with his teeth before rolling it onto his already leaking cock. He slowly dragged the tip of his against your wet cunt causing the both of you to moan. “Daddy, it’s so big” you moaned as he slowly inserted the tip of his cock into you. 

“You can take it, can’t you? Such a good girl for me” He bent down, kissing your lips as he slowly pushed the entirety of his cock inside of you, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths. 

“Fuck baby, if you keep clenching me like that, I’m gonna cum in seconds” 

“Sorry,” you whimpered. “Baby, don’t be sorry, you are just too good” 

He slowly began to thrust into you, making sure to not put too much pressure on your leg. You felt so good around him, so tight. If it wasn’t for the condom he was wearing, he was sure he was going cum as soon as he entered you. 

Your moans were so cute as he thrust particularly deep into you, lifting your legs slightly higher in an attempt to hit that spot he had hit with his fingers only minutes prior. 

“So good, Daddy, hitting so deep inside of me” you babbled on underneath him, forgetting how to speak. He thought it was fucking adorable how you lost your mind from him just fucking you in missionary. Imagine how well he could fuck you in other positions once your leg healed fully. 

“Yeah baby, hitting you so deep? I can feel you clench around me. This pussy is heaven, and I need to be in here all the time. You ever going to let me go baby girl?” 

You shook your head, stuttering out a “never” as he thrust into you at a faster pace, causing you to scream. It was too much, him fucking you so hard while he brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing it in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Gonna cum Daddy, gonna cum for you” you whined. It took another rough thrust for you to cum, him cumming into you mere seconds after, filling the condom with his hot seed. He slowly pulled his cock out of you, causing the two of you to whine. 

“That was”

“Amazing?” you responded before kissing his lips. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, basking in the heat of your body. 

“I think I’m glad I broke my leg” you chuckled from beside him, hugging his sweaty body. 

“I am too” he whispered, kissing the top of your head before the two of you fell asleep. 

#ju <3 answers #ju <3 writes #stray kids #skz #skz smut #straykids x reader #skz x reader #straykids smut #bangchan #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bang chan #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #straykids #stray kids smut #skz bang chan

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {7}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A short skip over the winter break and into 2024 season.. Warnings: 18+ only, fluffies WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight

Christmas Eve 2023 - French Alps The air was still when you woke to a fresh dumping of snow on the mountain. The window provided a picture of tranquillity and the embers in the fire gave a peaceful glow to the dark wood walls. Charles had disappeared at dawn for a morning ski with Arthur and you squinted against the white glare to try and find them on the mountainside. 

You probably could have gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for the door crashing open and the sudden weight of a child on your legs. Penelope crawled up to the headboard with a squeal and jumped into your arms as Max just reached the bedroom door. 

“P, watch out for auntie’s tummy,” Max reminded. She now had to watch out for yours and Aunt Vicky’s tummy, since your sister had announced her pregnancy a few weeks ago. “Sorry, she slept the whole flight so she’s full of energy. I tried to get her to play with Luka but she wanted you.”

“That’s okay,” you said as she burrowed under the blankets and put her cold feet on Lando’s back. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

Penelope nodded eagerly while Lando slowly woke and you were grateful he was wearing a hideous pair of santa-themed pyjama pants. With even more children around for Christmas this year, everyone had taken to wearing pyjamas. It was good for moments like these, but bad for quick access when you were spooning in the night.

“Papa let me open some presents early!”

Max disappeared out of the room with a wave, heading back to his suite with Kelly down the hall. The small mountain retreat had been completely rented out for another combined family holiday and at the rate the Norris’, Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s were procreating, an entire resort would be needed to host you all next year. Your bet was on Max and Lorenzo becoming fathers next. 

“How exciting! And what did you get?”

Penelope held out her arm to show a mermaid inspired charm bracelet. “That’s beautiful!”

“It’s got Ariel!” she exclaimed, pointing to a red haired mermaid as she bounced excitedly. 

“Is that an earthquake?” Lando asked as he scooped the little girl up into a hug. “No, it’s little P. Why are you waking your favourite uncle up so early?”

“You’re not my favourite,” she said with a fit of giggles.

Lando hung his head and shook it with fake sadness. “Kids are brutal.”

“Kids are honest,” you corrected before kissing his pout away.

“Gross,” P said as she screwed up her face and started to climb off the bed to find ‘Maxie’. She did a sudden u-turn and scrambled across the bed to gently touch your stomach before leaning closer and whispering, “Bye-bye, baby. Love you.”

She was gone again, this time the door swinging shut as she left with no farewell for you or Lando. He let out a little chuckle as he pushed you back into the pillows and drifted down the bed, taking the blankets with him. 

“Hello, baby,” he murmured softly to the bump. At just more than half way along your bump could no longer be mistaken for overindulgence or bloating. “You are looking lovely and round this morning.”

“Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you chuckled as you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Shh, I’m having a conversation with my daughter, no eavesdropping,” he warned with a smirk before brushing your shirt up and pressing a kiss to your skin before continuing his conversation. The moustache and shaped beard he was slowly but surely growing thicker tickled with each whispered word, the movement of his lips dragging the coarse hairs over your sensitive skin until goosebumps prickled. 

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he said with a smile as the door creaked open and Charles walked in with wind-kissed cheeks. “I just want to hurry up and hold you.”

“Patience, mon cher,” Charles said with a grin, depositing the second layer of cashmere he had worn under his ski jacket on the coat hook. “It’s only four more months.”

Lando groaned at the reminder before shifting on the bed to make space for Charles. 

“Anything you want to add this morning?” you asked. 

You reached for the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it down if it was a no when a knock had you freeze. No, it wasn’t a knock. The thud hadn’t come from outside, but inside. You dropped the shirt and stared at the jut of your hip, right where the skin went soft as it stretched up to your ribs. That soft tissue bulged ever so slightly as you felt the strange sensation of pressure and it drew a gasp that shocked your boyfriends.

“What? What is it?” Lando asked, his voice thick with concern. 

“Give me your hand,” you ordered, already reaching for one of each as you placed them on the spot. “Shhh, just shhh.”

You felt it again and Charles exhaled a shaky breath that ended in a joyous laugh before grabbing Lando’s hand and shifting it slightly. 

“Wha-”

“Shh,” you urged as Charles pressed a finger to his lips. The silence grew and everyone held their breath, waiting.

The air wooshed from Lando with an exclamation, “No fucking way!” His eyes grew wide and he stared at his palm as if the imprint of his daughter’s foot was permanently held on his skin. “Holy shit! She…she…kicked.” 

Charles wrapped an arm around Lando as their shimmering eyes met yours. Pure happiness saturated the room, spilling out into the hall as the door opened and Oliver appeared a little worried. “Everything okay? I thought I heard Lando screeching.”

“Everything’s perfect,” Lando grinned, ignoring the joke he had heard since hitting puberty. 

“She just started kicking,” Charles explained with an equally bright grin, while you danced your fingers along your side, trying to tickle her foot. 

“Core memory unlocked, huh?” Oliver laughed at his brother’s eagerness, remembering the first kicks with his own daughters. “Breakfast is ready when you are.”

“Thanks, we’ll be there soon,” Charles said as Oliver closed the door again.

“Do we have to?” Lando asked as he curled back down and stared at your stomach intently. “I could watch this all day.”

“You can stay but I am hungry, and she is now shy,” you teased as you pulled your shirt back into place and climbed out of bed. With a groan he followed you to the walk-in wardrobe, just like you knew he would. 

“Is the powder good?” Lando asked Charles while they changed into some casual day clothes perfect for the warm interior of the retreat.

“It’s perfect,” Charles all but moaned, it was hard to believe they were talking about snow but both of them loved to ski. “Arthur wants to head back out after lunch.”

Lando looked at you and you waved a hand. “Sheesh, babe, I’m not your keeper. You can go if you want.” 

Lando hated being away the most, not that Charles enjoyed it, but there wasn’t the same level of separation anxiety that Lando had. “I don’t want to leave you here on your own.”

“On my own?” you laughed and slipped your feet into some simple flats before heading to the door. As soon as it opened the cacophony of everyone congregating in the great room down the hall spilled into your room. “I couldn’t be on my own if I tried.”

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxvertappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,382,589 others yourusername This kid scored the gene pool the lottery. Merry Christmas from my family to yours.

Round One - Bahrain 2024 Fuel fumes drifted up from the pitlane to the balcony you stood upon as the start of the season's first race grew closer. It was strange to look down the entire length of billboards and see no new faces among the driver line up. Fernando still filled the garage beside Lance, but you held no resentment for your replacement. He was making the most out of an opportunity and it almost gave you hope that even after leaving Formula 1, maybe - just maybe - there was a way to get back in. 

Next year would be interesting with so many contracts up for renewal. It was a chance to see new faces on the grid, or perhaps some old faces returning if rumours were to be believed. You wouldn’t mind seeing Sebastian make a return. For the moment, everyone was still too busy talking about Lewis and his move to Ferrari to give much thought to the other shocks that might come with the disruption. The open seat at Mercedes was going to be sought after by every driver stuck in a midfield car. 

“You look deep in thought.”

You broke away from staring at the starting lights to accept a cup of herbal tea from your mother. “Just thinking about how the grid will look next year.”

“Gotta get through this one first,” she reminded. “Speaking of…it’s going to be hard having a newborn at home with those two away so much.”

“I know,” you sighed, resting your arms on the balcony rail as you blew the steam from the mug. The wall calendar at home was already marked with the first half of the season, all the nights Lando and Charles would be away circled in red ink. It had been collectively agreed that flying with a newborn wasn’t a great idea so you would only attend the races you could drive to until she was at least three months old. “This year’s calendar is fucking intense.”

“I want you to know you can call me day or night, sweetie, and I’ll be on the next plane.” She reached for your chin and turned you to face her as your throat clogged with emotion. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to do on your own, you saw it firsthand.”

“You’ve got your own life, I don’t want you to drop it all for me.”

She laughed softly and wrapped you in a careful hug. “You’re my daughter, you are my life, my granddaughter is too.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled and wiped your eyes, seeing the cameras in the pitlane pointed your way. “Gah, you made me cry. Now I’ll be on fucking Drive to Survive. I can already see the subtitles ‘Y/N crying as the season starts without her’. Wankers.”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at the camera and flipped them off, making you choke on a laugh. “So much maturity for a grandmother.”

“Yeah well I have been wanting to do that for a while, and I figure I can’t get you fired since you’re unemployed.”

You shared a grin and thought maybe you had more in common than you realised. You thought your fight came from Jos but now you saw a flash of it in her protectiveness and your chest warmed.

“I’m not unemployed, I’m a Lady of Leisure.” You laughed at the roll of her eyes before adding. “I might even get a Birkin for a push present to complete the initiation.”

“What the hell is a push present?”

“It’s a present a new mother gets for destroying her vagina pushing a baby out.”

It was her turn to choke on a laugh. “That’s a thing?”

“Apparently so.” 

“Does the baby not count as a gift?”

“Hmm, maybe you should go ask them?” you said as you jutted your head to the plethora of influencers walking around the grid taking selfies with everyone. She wrinkled her nose at the idea, quite content to stay out of the fray like you.

“No, thank you. Oh, there they are.”

You scanned the crowd and saw Max, Charles, and Lando walking out to the grid together, their heads huddled close as they tried to hear each other over the crowd. They made a beeline to the strips of red carpet and Max stood between the other two as they took their places for the national anthem.

“Looks like the podium lineup to me,” your mother whispered.

You chewed your lip and hoped the data from testing was as promising as it looked for McLaren and Ferrari. But you could never tell quite how much of it was real with the strategies and sandbagging. “I hope so, my boy’s need a good start this year.”

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

[urfavstargirl]

inner man challenge! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

hey babes!! okay, i know i said i was going on break but i got this sudden inspiration and yk i had to make a post!! so this challenge is called the inner man challenge, because it's all about fulfilling your inner man and staying in the wish fulfilled!!

WHAT IS THE GOAL FOR THIS CHALLENGE? ★

making the state of the wish fulfilled your dwelling state

fulfilling your inner man

falling in love with imagination

not caring about the 3d

FIRST STEP! ★

this is crucial! remove the intention of manifesting to be for getting in the 3d!!! "but girl.. the whole point of manifesting is to get it in the 3d" okay yes, if u want to believe that i can't change your mind. but to get it in the 3d we need to be fulfilled, and you can't be in the SOWF if you are still trying to get it! read this if ur still confused <3

me personally i feel like the reason why some people don't get results from methods, challenges etc is because they are doing the method to get it in the 3d, not to feel fulfilled. but thats just me 🤷🏾‍♀️

SECOND STEP! ★

now for the fun part, decide what you want!! df, db, sp, a billion bucks in ur account, being the smartest of ur class, moving out of your paren'ts home, getting into your dream college, literally go wild!!

THIRD STEP! ★

fulfill your inner man when your inner man needs fulfilling! if something bad arises in the 3d that shakes ur confidence, fulfill!

having the urge to look in ur bank account to see if you have a billion bucks? close your eyes, imagine your inner man looking at her bank account and seeing the numbers go up by the second!

one of your family members makes a comment about how ugly you are?? would your inner man care?? NO! bc she's fine asf!

if anything 'bad' happens in the 3d, imagine your inner man saying "uh.. thats cute but i'm living my dream life rn sooo.."

WAIT, IS THERE A SCHEDULE? ★

there's no schedule to this challenge!! no "in the morning say 1409834 affirmations, in the afternoon vaunt for 3 hours, in the night do starfish position and affirm for the void" NO!! literally just fulfill your inner man when ur inner man needs fulfilling!!

"don't force yourself to do a method you don't want to do! don't force yourself to visualize the same scene someone else even though it doesn't create any feeling of knowing inside of you and feels like a chore to you. don't repeat affirmations if you don't want to and don't repeat an aff you don't resonate with. do what you think is fun! and do what feels natural to you! by taking the pressure of being perfect off yourself, it's easier to imagine in order to experience, rather than to get it in your 3d." - @remcycl333

HOW DO I STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED THE ENTIRE DAY? ★

no need to stay in the SOWF the entire day, we are always changing states! for example, right now you're in the state of reading this post, and i am in the state of writing this post. it's all about making the SOWF your dwelling state! so if you accidentally stay in the state of lack 7 times but you are in the SOWF 8 times, then the SOWF is your dwelling state! (btw don't count the times you enter a state lmao)

ANYTHING ELSE? ★

get off tumblr, just delete the app.. like this place is literally just making you overconsume. you have better things to do!

if you have a negative thought don't spiral and think all your progress has gone to waste. breathe in and out, your inner man has it and that's all that matters.

have fun!! this challenge isn't like other challenges (soo quirky i know 😜), it's meant to fulfill you instead of making you stress about the 3d. make fun scenarios in your head, vaunt, just have a good time!!

WHEN you get successes (whatever you consider to be a success: feeling that your inner man is fulfilled, or getting it in the 3d) send it to me or make a post about it using #star's-inner-man-challenge!

if you have any questions let me know in my inbox, bye yall!! 💞

#star's-inner-man-challenge #imagination creates reality #living in the end #loassumption #manifestation #master manifestor #loa #neville goddard #law of assumption #loa affirmations #manifesting #the law of assumption #manifest #spiritual #spirituality #shiftblr #reality shift #things to manifest #shifters #shifting realities #reality shifting #void success story #void state success story #void state #i am state #loa tumblr #loablr #loa blog #manifest your life #manifest your dreams

[padfootagain]

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #hozier fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oneshot

[honey-words]

spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis:   you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there. 

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)

part 1 of the spider boy series

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process. 

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did. 

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh. 

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video. 

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face. 

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless. 

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief. 

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too. 

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus. 

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep. 

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am. 

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep. 

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused. 

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings. 

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready. 

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed. 

She never hissed. 

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle. 

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out. 

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately. 

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep. 

It was 4am. 

You could not help the gasp that escaped you. 

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense. 

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him. 

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again. 

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again. 

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony. 

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action. 

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was. 

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.” 

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at. 

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs. 

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.” 

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse. 

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.  

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door. 

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question. 

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong. 

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you. 

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments. 

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap. 

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said. 

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone. 

“Midoriya—” 

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door. 

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised. 

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.” 

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya. 

“What was that?”

“Promise.” 

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update. 

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room. 

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest. 

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door. 

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around. 

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back. 

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in. 

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear. 

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head. 

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing. 

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it. 

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring. 

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

masterlist

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x you #mha x reader #bnha x you #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x oc #spiderman deku #bnha fanfiction #spiderdeku

[misc-obeyme]

You know the drill.

Spoilers for Lesson 40 below, including locked and hard lessons.

Just to clarify: when I say that it’s “the end” in my rantings, I am referring to season two, not the entire game. ☺️

Hmm.

I'm confused. And... underwhelmed? What even just happened?

I mean, we had lovely moments with the side characters and we got to kiss them all and of course I'm incredibly pleased I got to kiss Barbatos and Solomon, but aside from that we just... went back?

Most of the lesson was about the RAD founding ceremony. We say good bye to the side characters and they even address how we told Solomon his cooking was bad (more on this later).

But just as the ceremony is about to start, a dark rift opens in the sky. It's a rift in space and time. Barbatos straight up asks Solomon if he did it. Solomon says he didn't, but that he wasn't expecting it to show up so soon. (So who did create it? Nightbringer? And if so, doesn't this prove Solomon at the very least knows enough to know when Nightbringer is going to open a portal back through time??)

We miss the ceremony because we have to go through that rift if we wanna get back. The brothers come with us because we need their power. Just like when we summoned the white dragon, we call upon each brother for his power. Then Solomon adds his. Then there's a bright light and..

...roll credits.

Yeah. That's it. That's the end.

There's a locked lesson where Diavolo gives a speech at the ceremony.

And then the HARD lesson... is us returning to the House of Lamentation in our time. The brothers are all like oh hey MC good morning like nothing even happened. They say it's weird because it feels like it's been a long time since they've seen MC but that can't be right because it hasn't been that long at all.

AND THAT'S IT.

No Nightbringer. No further insight from Solomon or Barbatos. Not even sad angsty brothers who have been missing us.

It was like they didn't know we were gone.

So either we went back a little further in time or there was never a point where they decided as a group to send Solomon back to help us.

We didn't even get a Michael appearance!

THAT WAS VERY ANTICLIMACTIC.

I am confused because it wasn't bad, it was kinda cheesy, there were some sweet lines and like I mentioned previously I got to kiss my malewives but WHAT THE JUNK.

I'm not suffering, more like I'm just left hanging???

My one consolation is that we're back in our timeline now. So maybe NEXT SEASON we can FINALLY get some ANSWERS.

I really thought they couldn't drag it out any further and yet...

I didn't take a whole lot of screenshots this time because again, it was kinda just... underwhelming. Overall this lesson was just me going that's it?! And being baffled.

First I'd like to present you with these lovely Barbatos moments.

As sweet as this is, the man knows. Not that I ever thought anything else, but he's so subtle about it. I'm onto you, Barb.

My HEART. If I wasn't going back to another version of him, I would just be like nope staying by your side forever the end I don't care about anybody else.

But before all that, there was also this:

I'm glaring at you because you let Solomon into the kitchen.

I DIDN'T WANT TO.

OF COURSE I DIDN'T.

GOOD. SOMEONE ELSE CAN SUFFER WITH ME.

OHHhhhh Barb I love when you get all threatening and smile like that 💕

But seriously, then Barbatos and Luke help Solomon make a lunch that's actually delicious and we eat it with everybody and they're all amazed. I was like OKAY WELL I do feel a bit better about that whole fiasco now. But still, was it even necessary to begin with? No amount of sweet kitchen buffoonery with these guys is going to make me forget the pain.

At least we had a cute Solomon moment, too.

Yeah but I'm still wondering about the past version of you, Sol. I'm just saying, where is that guy?

I mean you don't have to look so sad about it.

Ah. Your jealousy is showing, Solomon. (I don't mind.)

Hard Lesson bits because I'm still just ????

YEAH BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T.

YEAH IT'S BEEN TWO WHOLE SEASONS.

Once again, I am left with more questions than what I started with. Will MC tell the brothers what happened? Will we just never see the past brothers again? Will we return to the past in the next season? Will we ever see Nightbringer again, the being for whom this game was named?

At the very least, we still have Mephisto being himself and man I can't believe I ever disliked this guy.

THAT'S MY BOY.

I'm feeling extremely unsatisfied but it isn't like that's anything new.

I will say that it wasn't as bad as I expected. I was expecting them to do some really terrible things that made me freak out and scream and scare my cat. But no, I was mostly just ?? the whole time. And confusion is preferable to suffering in this case.

But I am also ANNOYED. We have waited long enough for the Nightbringer reveal, please give it to us now Solmare!!!

I fear we only have a short time before we are dragged further into this game that has truly become a hell of its own when season three is upon us... (I'm being deliberately melodramatic but still...)

#??? #???? #????? #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me nightbringer lesson 40 #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #misc lesson recap #misc rambles

[jupitercomet]

The Grow Apart

summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, mentions of drinking, mentions of suggestive themes, my limited knowledge of boxing, no use of y/n, Jake is 6'5" because I said so, I recommend that you read the orange butterfly before this chapter

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.4k

one new voicemail masterlist

You’d never been the most tech savvy person, you know that.

You understand the basic functions of your laptop and definitely aren’t hopeless. No one would ever call you technology deficient. But your knowledge ends with the essentials. 

So when you overheard one of your coworker’s talking about the way she learned to delete her voicemails, you didn’t exactly question it.

“You just have to press *67 as soon as you’re finished and it’ll delete it. It’ll make it look like you never called.”

It didn’t seem like vital information at the time, but nights later, as you were sitting on your couch slightly drunk, watching The Fox and the Hound, it suddenly became much more useful. Unable to stop yourself, you called Jake that night, leaving a brief and somewhat tearful voicemail before typing out *67 and hanging up.

Admittedly, you were a little weary of your coworker’s tip—maybe you’d watched too many TV episode plots that revolved around tracking down someone to delete a voicemail off their phone. But you woke up the next morning with no questioning text from Jake. When a week had gone by and he still hadn’t reached out, you testingly left another voicemail.

You don’t entirely know when they became such an integral part of your daily routine, almost a voice diary you found yourself using on every walk home after work. But it became a comfort, a way for you to talk through your grievances with someone you used to think cared about them. It got so lonely in San Diego, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

You could talk about whatever you needed to and then delete it, without ever having to worry about Jake answering his phone either. Back when you were still dating, you learned that Jake had two phones—only keeping his older one in case people too far back in his past to have his new number ever tried to reach him. In the entire year you’d been together, no one but a telemarketer had called it and it stayed untouched in a drawer.

So you could cling to the first man you’d ever loved, like you wanted, and Jake could forget you ever existed, like he wanted. It was a win win.

“Hi, Jake. It’s me again— I feel like I don’t have to keep introducing myself, sorry. Today was pretty good. I got a lot of tips, so I think I’m finally gonna get new shoes. Even customers started noticing, it was really embarrassing. 

I see my therapist tomorrow. She wants to talk about you, which I’m kinda nervous for, but it’ll probably be good for me. She’s been really helpful actually and she’s really nice when we work though stuff… I don’t know, I like to think you’d be proud of me for that.

I’m pretty sure it’s, like, 8:30 in Texas, so you’re probably at the gym right now. Unless you’re not— Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. But, um, what else?

Oh! I saw a dog that looked like Harley today. It was walking past the window at the diner with a cute bandana and I got a little excited... I miss him. I miss—

Anyway, I’m rambling so I’ll probably hang up now, but, um, I hope you had a good day. Bye, Jake.”

Jake’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles white as your voice cuts off in his headphones. He has to force himself to loosen his grip on his phone out of fear of breaking it, the old iPhone 6 was hardly durable as it is. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

He can still hear you in his head, your quiet voice, your soft breaths. He hates it. When he goes home, he’ll screen record your message so he can keep his voicemail box empty for you.

In truth, Jake had discovered your voicemails entirely by accident. Moving back to Texas eradicated his need for his second phone since he was now close enough that any friend or family who didn’t have his new number could probably just walk to his condo if they needed something. He’d completely forgotten about the phone for months until Javy’s sister said she was looking for an older phone to give to her son as he started 8th grade.

It took him hours to find, but when he did, the last thing he was expecting was notifications for no less than 10 missed calls and voicemails. Jake was even more surprised when he realized they were all from you. He listened to every one of them, as you talked through the highlights of your day. And the lowlights. For a moment, Jake could almost pretend you were still together.

But you weren’t talking to him—you were talking to the idea of him. Because that’s all you had. That’s all he left you. 

Jake must have stayed up all night playing your voicemails over and over again.

The logical part of him, the part he usually listened to, told him to forget about it. He should just put the phone back where he found it, and let you reach the voicemail limit, and never think about it again. The logical part of him told him that clearly even you didn’t want him to listen to them and why would he want to listen to him anyway? Jake Seresin doesn’t get hung up on his ex.

And Jake suddenly carrying his old phone everywhere with him and recording every voicemail so he could still listen to them while keeping his mailbox empty was Jake not being hung up on you.

He’s allowed to still think about you, to still care about you. And that didn’t mean he regretted breaking up with you. Just because he always felt lonely, and started letting Harley sleep on the bed with him which he had never allowed before, and found himself wanting to pick up your call if only just to hear your voice in real time, didn’t mean he regretted it. It didn’t mean he thought it was the stupidest decision he ever made. And it wasn’t the reason he was so ready to move back to California.

“Dude.” Javy’s voice breaks him from his reverie, and Jake turns to see his best friend giving him an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the gym tonight.”

Jake tries to shake you from his head, sliding his old iPhone 6 discreetly into his gym bag. “Sorry. I was changing my music.”

He knows Javy doesn’t believe him, the other man just crossing his arms without a word. He has that look on his face, the one Jake sees quite frequently now, the look of wanting to step in but being hesitant to push him. Jake hates that look more than your voicemails. 

“Dude… If you wanna talk about something—”

Jake rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t do that,” Javy points an accusing finger at him. “You’re doing that thing you do where you get mad at people for caring about you.”

“To get mad at you would require caring in the first place,” Jake walks away from his bag with a snippy tone.

Because Jake doesn’t care.

“I don’t know, I’d like to think you’d be proud of me for that.”

Jake doesn’t care that he is proud of you. He doesn’t care that it feels like a knife through the heart every time he realizes that he is now something you have to work through, that the pain he caused you is something you have to learn to let go of.

“I miss him. I miss—”

Jake doesn’t care that you miss him. It doesn’t rip him apart that maybe you don’t. It’s not like he has dreams where he’s with you, where he’s telling you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. He doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat, shaky fingers swiping through his phone before he plays one of your voicemails because your voice is the only thing that calms him down. He doesn’t do any of that because doing that would require him caring. 

And Jake doesn’t care.

“Hey, Harley.” You give the dog a scratch behind his ears as he greets you excitedly, stubby tail thumping against your legs.

Harley prances after you as you walk further into the house, hanging up your jacket and dropping your purse on a chair like shedding those items will be enough to shake off the day. It’s not, you still feel drained, and you hope that Jake’s up for something from Charlotte’s tonight.

“Angel? That you?” 

Jake’s voice drifts from the living room and you start heading in that direction. You’re mildly surprised he’s home at all, he spends most of his time at Maverick’s and you usually don’t see him until much later in the night. But it’s only 6:30 and he’s looking through his laptop as he sits on the couch.

“Sorry,” you move to sit next to him on the couch, the cushion in the middle feels like feet between you but you’re not quite courageous enough to move any closer. “I didn’t know you were home. I thought you’d be back later.”

Jake nods offhandedly, continuing to scroll through whatever is on his laptop. You hardly take offense to it, though no one would guess Jake is weirdly responsible and it’s a very real possibility he’s filing away things for your taxes or something. Instead, you pull out your phone, reveling in the quiet for a moment.

Though working at Knockouts paid the bills, it was by no means your dream job. It was loud and customers could be cruel and almost all your coworkers were looking for other work—or, at the very least, didn’t plan to stay there forever. Jake promised you that once his boxing career took off, you wouldn’t have to work there anymore. You could go back to school, and get your masters in English like you always wanted to.

That hasn’t happened yet though. And you can tell it frustrates Jake every time you come to his house exhausted or on the verge of tears that he’s still waiting for some big break to be able to provide for you. But you always try to assure him that it isn’t his job, that eventually he’ll find his footing and everything will be okay. You’ve gotten better at hiding the bad days from him.

In fairness, it seems like he has too. These past couple days he’s been scarce—more than usual—this is the first time in a long time that he’s been home before you’ve fallen asleep. You know he’s taking things more seriously at the gym, training more, winning more. He’s also going out partying with Javy a lot more too, it only stings a little that he doesn’t invite you. 

It’s not like he hasn’t always been doing this, but something about this time around feels different. Like, this time, he knows something that you don’t. 

“I think we should break up.”

Your phone falls from your hand and into your lap. “What?”

“I think we should break up,” Jake repeats, reaffirming that his words weren’t something you’d misheard. That they weren’t some nightmare you’re having while awake.

“I… I don’t— Why?” You swallow thickly, your chest feeling heavy as you try to understand what feels like a blindside on Jake’s part. 

Jake sighs, looking up from his laptop. “Mav told me there’s a guy back in Texas that’s looking for fighters. The fighting scene isn’t as competitive there. This would be my shot.”

“You think we should break up because you want to move back to Texas?”

You don’t understand how Jake can be so nonchalant about this. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t want to go with him? But you would. You would go with him. You weren’t loyal to San Diego. Hell, you weren’t even loyal to California. It would take you a bit of time of course, you’d have to put in your two week notice and figure out how to sell your apartment—

“It’s huge for me, you know?” Though he sounds excited, he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. “And we really aren’t serious enough for long distance to make sense—”

Oh.

There was a part of you that was always a little wary of Jake. Of the guy you met at a bar, who called you “angel” before he called you your name. And maybe this was why. Because guys like that didn’t do serious relationships. But Jake had been loyal and yours for so long that you thought that, maybe, it was okay. Maybe it was okay to trust him. All squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.

You clear your throat, biting down on your lip harshly. “Right, um, that makes sense…”

There’s a flash of something in Jake’s eyes—maybe hurt—but it’s gone before you can know for sure. “I’ve been thinking about this for a bit and I just think it makes the most sense.” He laughs suddenly, but you can’t seem to find the joy in it like you used to. “It’s not like you were planning to spend the rest of your life with some underground boxer.”

You were, but it feels childish to admit now. Like Jake was just some fantasy and you’ve reached the end to find no happily ever after. You swallow thickly.

“I mean, this is a really big opportunity for you.” You’re grateful Harley is playing in the backyard, because he’d have certainly called you out on your clear distress if he were here. “So, you should do what you think is best.”

It’s silent for a moment as Jake stares at you, and you wish he would just say something. Because you don’t know what he’s thinking and you don’t know what he wants you to say. You’ll say it, whatever it is. You don’t know what he wants from you. 

Jake wets his lips. “And we— I mean… We can still be friends.”

You knew what that meant. He’d never talk to you again. You’d no longer be there for him when he just didn’t want to be alone. You’d no longer be the first person he thought of when he caught a trailer for a new movie that looked good. You wouldn’t speak to him for years and years and then suddenly, out of the blue, you’d get a pity invite to his wedding to some Russian super model and all he’d introduce you as is someone he knew from college. Because that’s the kind of “friends” exes became.

“Right,” you force a smile. This time, not even Jake could make you believe him. “I’m— I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t until months later, when you were wine drunk watching The Fox and the Hound, that you finally admitted it out loud. “Hey, Jake. I, um, I lied. When I said I was okay with you leaving, I lied. I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay…”

The soft scent of floral notes fill your lungs as light mist lands on your skin. You take a deep breath, looking up at the fluttering butterflies moving in the air above you. It calms you, how silent butterflies are, like they’re the only creatures that don’t intrude on your space. Silent, and soft, and beautiful.

Dr. Elsher’s words ring in your head as you walk your feet through the familiar turns of the butterfly pavilion. The two of you had been talking about Jake for the last couple sessions, working through what he meant to you and what he made you feel about yourself. It was painful, you won’t pretend that it wasn’t, but it helped. You’d even stopped leaving Jake voicemails every day. 

It wasn’t a lot, you know that. But it was something. It wasn’t that you stopped loving Jake, or missing him, or wanting him, you just didn’t need him. You could live without him. Because you had other things—or, at least, you’re working on that. For now, you have butterflies.

For a moment, you think about leaving Jake a voicemail, but you shake it off. Not today. Today is about you and your happiness and the fact that you can live without Jake.

“And that’s important,” Dr. Elsher gives you a knowing look. “That you look at it as living. Up until now, you’ve been surviving. I want you to know that you can live whether or not you have Jake, or your parents, or anyone else.”

A blue butterfly flies in front of you and your shoes stop on the concrete to watch it for a moment. It lands on a peony growing near you, its wings spread to show off their iridescent shimmer. Your fingers brush against the edge of your phone case in your back pocket, but you stop yourself. Though you can’t explain it, you decide not to take a picture of the butterfly. Instead you just watch it until it flies away.

The bench you always sit at is just behind the flower bush in front of you and your shoes start moving against the concrete again. Dr. Elsher had recommended you try journaling for a bit and you figured this would be the nicest place to do it—sitting at your bench, in the quiet, surrounded by butterflies.

Your breath feels like it was ripped from your lungs when you finally move past the flower bush.

“Jake?”

The blond’s head turns at the sound of your voice, confirming his identity. He looks equally as shocked and he hops up from the bench quickly. “Hey…” He swallows.

You stare at him. He’s bigger now, muscles more toned and firm. He looks taller, if that were even possible, and you have to crane your neck a bit just to look at him. He’s still Jake though. He’s just a bigger Jake with slightly longer hair and… softer eyes. He’s Jake all the same.

“You’re, um, you’re back,” your voice is small and you wet your lips out of habit. “I thought you were in Texas.”

Jake scratches the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. So unlike the Jake you know, he seems nervous and for a fleeting second panic fills you. Has he been getting your voicemails? “Yeah, I just moved back. It’s— It’s nice to see you though. It’s been a while, huh?”

A year and a half. That’s how long it’s been. One year, six months, and eleven days.

“Yeah.”

When you say nothing more, Jake clears his throat. “Well, I should go. I mean, I know this is your spot and— I was just—” He stops himself, his expression morphing into one that almost looks like he’s disappointed in himself. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

With a strained smile, Jake brushes past you, heading towards the exit as he runs a hand through his hair. He seems anxious, fidgeting with himself as he leaves. You can’t stop staring at him.

Jake doesn’t spare you another glance before he’s gone.

Jake feels like he’s going to get a headache from how loud the music is, the flashing lights making his eyes squint. California feels different compared to Texas, but not by much. Alcohol is still alcohol after all. 

Not that Jake’s having that good of a time due to that fact. The amount of bodies packed into this club has him more irritated than anything and even the alarming amount of shots he’s been taking doesn’t seem to help. He’s just annoyed. Javy’s been pushing him in the gym, critiquing every mistake and making him practice punch combinations again, and again, and again. And there’s no reason for it either because, while Jake thought he was just competing with Rooster for good fights, he came to learn that some other up-and-comer has carved out his place in Mav’s lineup and now Jake has to sit back and watch the Grim Reaper take fights that should’ve been his.

It feels like the beginning of his career all over again, except this time he knows he deserves better fights. He’s stronger now, he knows how to put on a show, and if he just stayed in Texas he could be fighting whoever he wanted. If he just stayed in Texas a lot of things would be simpler.

Throwing back one final shot, Jake gets up. At this point, he might as well stop moping around and do something that’s actually going to make him feel better. There’s a buzz in his head that has the ability to take his mind off things if he focuses on it and what looks to be a bachelorette party has just made its way to the dance floor. Despite how in his own head he’s been, he isn’t stupid enough to remain oblivious to the redhead that’s been eyeing him since she got here.

With confident strides, he makes his way over to where she’s dancing with a few friends, gaze locked on the carefree swaying of her hips. She moves to make another glance at him, but she seems to have not realized that he’s already spotted her as her eyes widen slightly when she sees he’s coming closer. Whispering something quickly to her friends, she pulls herself away from the group.

Jake watches the way her chest rises and falls, taking in oxygen deeply with how much she’s been dancing. Sweat pools at the dips in her collarbones—something Jake can see because of her low cut top—making her skin look like it’s shimmering under the neon lights. She looks up at him through long, innocent lashes, biting her lip shyly.

Like it always is, the way he speaks to her is a blur. He says something to make her giggle and she steps closer to him under the guise of wanting to hear him better. She tells him her name and he forgets it and he pretends to be interested in what she’s doing in the city. One thing leads to another and then she’s grabbing his hand, leading him away with that same giggle, and then he’s pressing her against the wall in some dark hall before he inevitably takes her home like he always does.

Jake ignores the somewhat queasy feeling in his stomach, chalking it up to one too many shots, and lets his hands fall to her hips. Her head tilts up just slightly, an invitation to kiss her, and Jake can see the pink lip gloss that’s reflecting off her parted lips. 

The lights from the club travel over them occasionally, illuminating the scene enough for Jake to catch details about this woman, like the freckles peppering her shoulders and the glitter she’s smeared on her eyelids. But Jake never usually takes the time to notice these things, not when they truly and utterly don’t matter, he hardly ever gets with these women just to look at them.

When he finally dips down to kiss her, the lights pass over them again, right before her eyes can fully flutter closed. Jake jerks his head back.

“What?”

Jake knows the woman is looking at him in confusion, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead he shoves his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the clear effects of alcohol he’s experiencing like he’s trying to wake up from a dream. Because this woman doesn’t have your eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath, letting his hands fall. The lights pass over them again. The woman looks heavy with concern. But she has your eyes and your perfect nose and Jake feels like he’s going crazy because she’s not you.

She’s not you.

And he was going to kiss her.

Jake feels sick. He takes a step back from the woman, eyes darting all over the club as he tries to collect his thoughts. He knows that running into you had thrown him, he hadn’t been expecting to see you, not so soon and not when he still didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been expecting to be so grateful though, like seeing you suddenly made everything feel right again, like he didn’t know how much he needed it until it finally happened.

He saw you at the butterfly pavilion and had to stop his heart from skipping beats because he had never truly realized just how right he’d been when you were together. You are an angel. 

And Jake always thought poetry was stupid, but now he wishes he paid more attention when excitedly you spoke to him about your literature classes in college because no words seem sufficient to describe what it felt like to lay eyes on you again. Beautiful didn’t even hold a candle—ethereal maybe? He felt like a lovesick idiot.

And here he is trying to kiss another girl that isn’t you.

“Are you okay?” A delicate hand weighs down on his shoulder but it feels like it’s 1000 pounds.

Jake flinches away from the woman’s grip, only able to shake his head. The alcohol is catching up to him now, as is the realization that this entire time he’s been doing everything he can to forget you and he’s finally reached his limit. He can’t forget you because he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to find women that only like the idea of him and who he only likes the idea of too. He only ever wanted them because he can’t have you.

“I have to go.” Jake says finally. He doesn’t want this. “I have to— I should go.”

He’s walking away before the woman can even say anything, shouldering his way past people to get out of the stuffy club. His ears are ringing and it feels like all he can see are flashes of you. Jake knows that he should go home, sleep off the alcohol and the memory of you so guarded at the butterfly pavilion. At the very least, he should call Javy so that he isn’t alone

Instead he stumbles his way to Mav’s with the plan to hit a punching bag until he physically can’t anymore.

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Jake taglist: @dempy @cottagecori @avengersgirllorianna @under-the-seas @auroraacrane @olivia21blunt @dreamlandcreations @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @sgt-barnesveins @lillunna @mayhemmanaged @appledressing @bradswolfe @lynnevanss @babyyy2020 @thekebs @deliriousfangirl61 @callsign-cacti @yoonbutterfly @liliana234567 @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @kmc1989 @redbarn1995 @wishingwell-2 @justenoughmadness @petemitchells @hookslove1592 @pietrothemovie @tiredqueen73

#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #hangman imagine #hangman imagines #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman angst #hangman au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #one new voicemail #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

[mamoonde]

i really really really love the idea of wei wuxian revolutionizing modern cultivation over breakfast and conceptualizing these different theories simultaneously because the adhd brain has no brakes and the only reason it took him a decade to publish all these ideas was because he could not stick to a single train of thought long enough to finish (verbalizing) it, let alone put it down on paper coherently.

the only reason he even got to publishing them eventually (and enrolling to cultivation theory grad program to get on that track) was because one morning, his undergrad thesis advisor, lan qiren, finally got fed up and sat him down for an early morning progress check-in because it was midterm season and wei wuxian still hadn't decided on a topic.

wei wuxian, fueled by an unhealthy amount of redbull and three all-nighters, finally word vomits all his 'convoluted' ideas which he'd thought were uselessly obvious and redundant (because he's gone over these like a bajillion times, it's very plain-as-day to him, so he probably just hasn't read the articles that say these exact things).

lan qiren, teacup frozen halfway to his mouth: ...first of all, i only understood half of how you got to these conclusions, which only means they are indeed too convoluted and will need to be pared down; secondly: you have never mentioned any of these ideas before. why.

wei wuxian: oh. haven't i? oh well, i just thought, xyz, because, obviously, abcde. which is really what the 2 centuries old law on ghjkl was alluding to, right? and so, logically, xyz.

lan qiren: [mind blown, screaming, good gods this is the same child who's always tardy and spent freshman year pulling on the metaphorical pigtails of my straight-laced nephew?!?!??!??!?!] ..again, why...how have you never even spoken or submitted these ideas?

wei wuxian: because!!! they're so obvious!! surely, it's been published somewhere already? i can't be the only one to connect these dots, surely??

lan qiren: incredibly, you are. no one else has even thought to question tradition nor pursued more thoughts on the law of ghjkl, with half as much...sound arguments as you seem to have. in the past century, the focus of modern cultivation has tended towards practical uses and tools, some fine-tuning, perhaps. not entirely new theories.

wei wuxian: huh....

lan qiren, sighing, feeling a migraine: your problem with your thesis is not a lack of focus or ingenuity, but likely to be more a lack of recent, evidentiary sources. you will need to become very familiar with the university archives and dig deep for sources that will back up every argument you make.

he jots down notes on a paper. "you will also need to strictly adhere to the structure and methodology of these articles, especially given how radical your thesis will be. if you are diligent enough, you may just be able to submit your thesis without too much of a delay." he slides the list of materials to a gaping wei wuxian. "depending on your output then, we can discuss the possibility of submitting this for peer review."

"peer review." wei wuxian repeats. "as in, that thing where some uppity committee of old coots put their stamp of approval for it to become the reading materials of undergrads like me. you're joking."

lan qiren chooses to ignore the sentiment about peer review committees being uppity old coots, especially considering how he can't completely deny it on account of some of his colleagues, but also as a member said peer review committee, he isn't exactly pleased about being lumped in the same category.

wei wuxian backtracks at his unamused look. "right, you're not joking, of course you're not." he slowly inches the list towards himself. "right, yes, i guess i'll uh, get to it then. ok bye."

----

idk, just, waves hand at wei wuxian candidly explaining new modern cultivation theories over cheerios at 2 in the afternoon to lwj who's trying to help him structure his grad thesis, getting mind blow dick hard at how this messy genius who's talking with his mouth full of half eaten cereal is the object of his affection....

wwx: --oh, oops, your highlighter fell

lwj: mn

wwx: ...aren't you gonna get that?

lwj: it's fine; i'll pick it up later. finish your thought.

wwx: right... i'll pick it up for you!

lwj, fighting for his life, trying to think unsexy thoughts: NO! sit. finish your meal, and then your thought.

#big brain wei wuxian #wei wuxian #genius wwx #in an interview for modern cultivation magazine he's asked: how do you do it? #wwx: adhd! #also a dedicated partner who tolerates your midnight rambling about spiritual energy and entertains your endless what ifs scenarios #bonus points if your partner is lwj who has amazing notetaking skills and a phd in decoding wei wuxian notes #wangxian #mdzs #modern cultivation au #also i love a supportive mentor lqr dont you #a mellowed out lqr who has a little more tolerance for radical ways of thought as long as theyre rooted in morality and good will #mamoonde short fics

[lxinesux]

i’m holding my breath for you

Characters: Tasm!Peter Parker

Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader

Summary: Reader regrets her time with Peter and attempts to push him away to get her friendship back. Peter does not take it well. Smut ensues.

Warnings: Blood, Fingering,Loss of Virginity, Floor + Counter Sex, Creampie, mildly dark!Peter, Possessive Sex

A/N: There’s a read more because this gets smuttyish pretty early. love creepy peter, hes just a liddle freak 😭. this is the unexpected second part of a story i posted in june-ish. read the first part here!

It had happened, it was real.

He got to touch the untouchable-make you cry out and cum and squirm. He did that. He had been the first to do that.

He’d wanted to fuck you-either with his fingers or his cock-but you were way too spent. He teased you relentlessly in the shower-chasing water droplets that ran over your body with his mouth, touching you all over, kissing you roughly against the shower wall.

You were irresistible, adorable, as you shied away from him, trying to keep his hands above your waist.

“I don’t think…I can’t…”

You could. You could come again. Over and over and over until you couldn’t stand. But he didn’t want to push you. That had been your first orgasm with another person. Stamina could be worked on later.

You were in your head, too. He could tell. You were never the most talkative but there was something going on between your ears he desperately wanted to know about.

Did you regret it? What happened?

Fuck. Did you not trust him anymore?

Was there a way for him to regain that trust?

-

He corners you in the kitchen, the smallest room in the entire apartment. It was very easy to do, given how small you were in comparison to him.

“We have to talk.”

“About what?” You turn away from him, trying to organize the groceries you bought on your measly paycheck. There wasn’t much, and he could tell you were avoiding him. You could only pick up and put down the same clementine before it became personal.

“About…that.”

“No, we don’t.”

His heart breaks a little.

He thought he’d made his case very clear and apparent.

He was in love with you. Had been for a very long time.

“I haven’t felt the way I do about you since…”

The silence lingers heavily in the kitchen. Your spine is ramrod straight, shoulders tensed. And you’re not looking at him.

Looking like a perfect soldier. Looking like you weren’t human, but a perfect robotic clone. The portrait of frigidity.

His stomach twists. Okay. Alright.

“Forget I said anything. We can just…we can go back to where we were before.”

“Can we?”

The knife between his ribs twists. Wonderful. Great.

“I don’t see why not. We can just..forget this happened.”

“Peter…”

He brushes past you, “Gotta head out.”

“Peter, wait-”

“‘Ts fine. There’s nothing left to say, fresh restart. Factory settings. Just…stop.”

And you do stop. You watch helplessly as he crawls out of the window and into the frigid night air.

-

Peter was avoiding you entirely.

You attempt to wait up for him, now that he’d made a habit of going on patrol without you. But more than once, you would fall asleep.

You found yourself missing him. The smell of his skin, his hair tickling your nose, the feeling of his arms around you while you slept.

The few times you saw each other in the apartment, he was curt if he made conversation at all. Not even a good morning or good night, just ‘hey’ and ‘bye.’

You’d rather be in the basement at Oscorp getting your brain scrambled than deal with this pain.

-

You had gone on your own patrol and had gotten back way past mid morning in an attempt not to run into Peter. You’d changed into your civies and walked through the front door-

There’s a stranger in your apartment.

She must have not seen you or if she’d seen you, she didn’t care. The entire apartment smells like breakfast-smoky and sweet alongside the bitter sting of coffee.

And she’s wearing Peter’s favorite t-shirt.

It’s fucking Lucy. Lucy from fucking accounting. She couldn’t figure out how to use the copy machine. The goddamn copy machine!

And she was in your shared apartment.

She had slept here, had slept in Peter’s bed, your bed.

She fucked your Peter.

The kitchen isn’t that large, the aisle blocking off the living room is short enough that the two of you make eye contact as soon as she turns her head.

“Lucy, I told you to-” Peter’s voice comes from behind you.

“Get the fuck out of our house.”

How dare he. How fucking dare he. Fucking sleep with some random girl beause you wanted space? You wanted his friendship back and he fucks LUCY?

Her lips are parting, like she wants to say something. Her hand is on her hips, like you��re just some girl in competition. Like you didn’t know how to break her neck in a millisecond, like you didn’t have the training to ruin that pretty face.

In an instant, she was an enemy and your programming slams into overdrive. You’re up and over the counter in a millisecond, the t-shirt bunched into your first.

Superhuman strength is a blessing and a curse. You only mean to maybe shove her lightly.

What you do instead is leave a Lucy sized hole in the cheap door to your apartment. She lands at the end of the hall. Every door on the floor is flung open, revealing shock and amused faces alike-all of them turned to you.

-

“You’re so lucky we weren’t evicted,” He sighed, “And that Lucy was only a little bruised.”

A little bruised was an understatement. Lucy has a contusion in her shoulder that’ll take weeks to heal.

You tried not to look too pleased at the news as you helped Peter install the new door.

“She’s lucky she was only bruised,” You breathe through your nose.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why did you even bring her here? Couldn’t you guys shack up at her place or something?”

“I didn’t think you’d be back before morning.” He actually has the grace to look guilty, maybe a little sad.

“Whatever.”

More silence.

You chew diligently on your bottom lip until he speaks.

“I’m sorry. It’s been weird these past few weeks. I think…I think it’d be best if I moved out?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, you’re actually comfortable like this? We nearly fuck, we kiss. You mauled my one-night stand! You push me away, you try to reel me back in. Forgive me for getting mixed signals!” His hands move into his hair, running his fingers through it, “I can’t do this anymore, I really can’t! Seeing you, it’s like…it’s fucking torture. I can’t do it.”

“You don’t talk to me for weeks and this is what you have to say!? You think this is easy for me?! God, Peter! I don’t know how to feel about you! I’m a fucking lab experiment gone rogue! I’m barely a person! What part of that screams girlfriend material to you!”

“I’ll let the landlord know I’m getting off the lease. I’ll be out at the end of the month.”

“So that’s it?”

“I can call Stark back, so you aren’t by yourself. I know you hate that. I don’t want you to have to be alone. We just…can’t be alone together. Not like this. Not until I’m over this…”

“Fuck you, Peter Parker.”

The new door slams, the hinges cracking.

-

You’re awake for hours, waiting for him to come home. You smell him before you see him.

Blood. You smell blood, thick and salty, and wrong on Peter.

His suit has been shredded along his abdomen, the blood making the spandex cling to the open wounds.

He nearly falls through the window and you catch him before he hits the floor. Guilt is swift and immediate.

Wordlessly, you help him to the bathroom. He doesn’t fuss, doesn’t put up a fight.

You peel off his suit gently, careful of the-are those claw marks in his chest? Before you can grab the first aid, his fingers are loosely wrapped around your wrist. He pulls you towards him. Pressing you against him, his sweaty bloody body touching your skin. He lets out a tense breath.

“Peter-”

“Just let me hold you. Just for a little bit.”

You can’t say no to him. You let him run his fingers through your hair, rub your back. Gently, you lay your head on his shoulder, trying to be careful of his wounds but selfishly trying to soak up all the emotion and touch you haven’t felt in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” He breathes out after a long stretch of silence.

“I..I’m sorry, too.”

“I kept trying to push you.”

“I was trying to protect you from me.”

He takes your face in his hands. His blood feels tacky on your cheeks. He brings your foreheads together, his breath warm against your lips. You remember what it was like to kiss him. How he’d begged for it, begged for something so simple as that.

The thought makes your body pulse in ways you don’t want to think about. Not right now. His thumb rubs against your cheek, leaving your flesh tingling in its wake.

“I don’t need you to protect me. Let alone protect me from something I want.”

“I told you before, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

He chuckles weakly before letting you go. You grab the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet but still feel his eyes tracing along your back. When you turn, he doesn’t shy away from his staring, a goofy smile still plastered on his face.

“I wanna kiss you again.”

“Peter, can you focus?”

“So mean to me,” He pouts when you come near him, “I’m injured and you won’t kiss me better?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Healing factor is making you loopy. Sit up straight, I’m going to disinfect your wounds.”

“Yes ma’am,” In the same scratchy voice that he had when he-

Ugh. You are not thinking about that right now. Even if he’s being too handsy, running his hands over your hips, up your sides. Trying to pull you into his lap.

“I can smell it, ya know? Super senses.”

You want to dose him with the rubbing alcohol bottle just to get him to stop talking. His blood was clotting nicely and you’ve since surmised that most if the blood on him wasn’t him as you feared.

“Smell what?” You dab him gently instead. A tight, clean gauze dressing and the deep marks should go away in a few days. You apply the clean cotton and begin to wrap him up, seconds away from applying skin safe tape.

“When your cunt’s wet, when I turn you on. Like now. Can smell it, always have. That’s how I know you want this too, you’re just scared.”

Your noses touch when you look at him earnestly, “I am scared.”

“I’m scared, too,” His fingers move through your hair, his eyes scan your face, “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t wanna lose your trust.”

It feels good. The silence surrounding you doesn’t feel as oppressive knowing that you’re both in it together. Your eyes close without your permission, lounging once again the comfort of just having Peter touch you again.

“I trust you, Peter.”

You feel his face move further toward you, his lips inches away from yours.

“Say that again,” he whispers breathlessly, “Please, say that again.”

“I trust you.”

-

It was the closest thing to confirmation he was ever going to get, but he’d take it.

His lips press against yours, a soft peck. Another and another until he can feel your body relax. He’s been so starved of you, greed fills him when your lips part. He lifts you up, possessive hands firm on your ass.

God, you were soft. So soft and warm. He wants to devour you, piece by piece.

He puts you on the bathroom counter, your legs hike up over his hips. Your pussy is pressed against the tent in his pants through your thin sleep shorts.

He won’t pull away. His lips leave yours only briefly to catch his breath. Your shaky hands move through his hair and he shutters.

“Missed you so bad,” He whispers, “Missed you so fucking bad.”

His hands move up your shirt, his warm hands traveling up to your bra and then running back down to your thighs.

You whimper, your flesh breaking out in goosebumps. His lips trail pecks from your mouth, across your cheek, and down your neck. The soft noises you make control him. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this and he wanted to be the only one to give it to you.

The only person you’ll ever have. The idea of anyone else seeing you melt like this makes him suck the sensitive skin of your neck between his teeth.

“Peter-“ Slightly desperate. Begging almost.

He pets your hair, “Shh, baby. I’m right here. Do you feel me?”

He pulls your hips tighter to him. Your fingers dig into his shoulders. When you hiss between your teeth, he can feel himself leak precum.

“Y…yeah…” You move minutely against him, “Yeah, feel you. Feels good…”

He kisses you again, just to taste the words. He pulls away just to get your shirt off. New skin for him to put his mouth on. He unhooks your bra easily, how starved he was for your flesh. He mouths along your collarbones, leaving bruises with his mouth that would linger on your skin.

He kisses down your chest. Your nipples are hard and pink and distracting.

“Peter, Peter, I-“

His tongue swirls around a nub, the other is tortured by his fingers. He pulls it away from your flesh. You try to move your chest further into his face. Christ, you’re so fucking adorable. You gasp and writhe.

Fuck, you’re getting so wet too. He can feel it against him, dampening the front of your panties and his Spidey suit.

His cock aches. He needed to be inside you, couldn’t take getting pushed away again. He was going insane. He was going to jump out of his skin if he had to wait any longer.

“Get down.”

“Wha?” Your voice is thick and heavy. Your eyes are glazed over. It’s making it so much worse.

“Get down, lean over the counter.”

For the first time in weeks, you do as you're told. Your panties are around your ankles before you realize it. He spreads your ankles apart.

Your pussy is pink and glistening. His mouth waters while he admires it. You whine.

“Nah baby, don’t be embarrassed. Most perfect thing I have ever seen…” He kisses along your shoulders, down your back.

His hand moves between your thighs, “You’ve never had anything inside this sweet pussy, have you?”

Your cheeks are flushed, “No…”

He smiles, reaching around your front and pressing against your clit.

“Oh my god-“

“Breathe, baby,” He presses the tip of one finger against your opening, “Gonna open you up so I don’t hurt you. It’ll feel good, I promise. Just breathe.”

One finger slides in instantly. In and out, hearing the sound of your soaked cunt. He can see your legs lock at first as you feel the awkward pressure. You relax again when you get accustomed to one finger. Another slides alongside and you keen as the press against that spot inside you.

“Too much…” You whimper.

“Pretty girl, I know you can take more,” His fingers speed up slightly as you leak against him, “Fuck, you’re so tight. Been dreaming about you cumming around my cock…”

Your eyes flutter closed, your mouth opens just slightly. Your hips move back against his fingers. You might be trying to say something, but the only thing Peter can hear is-

“Ah, ah, fuck, please…”

Your face in the mirror is gonna make him lose it. He gently tilts your head back.

“Look at yourself,” He whispers in your ear, eyes locking with yours in the reflection, “Look at what I’m doing to you…”

Another finger, his free hand returns home to your clit. You don’t avert your eyes, even though you really want to. Watching your own skin flush, your pupils unfocuses, your jaw slack.

“‘m so close…so close…”

Embarrassing for you, arousing for him.

He pulls his hands away from you. You whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “No!”

You feel the tip of him press against your hole. Protests die in your throat. He’s big. So big, you don’t know if he’ll fit. He might tear you apart. You feel so empty though, open and ready. If he doesn’t do something, your heart is gonna explode in your chest.

You trust him.

He’s trying so hard to be patient. You’re a fucking velvet vice around the head of his cock and he wants to feel you all around him. He pushes in farther, letting out a strained moan.

Your breathing picks up, your eyes squeeze shut. He knows before you say. He can feel your walls pulse, your thighs quivering-

“Cumming, Peter, fuck I’m gonna-“

He nearly finishes right there and then. Your cunt tightens impossibly around him, trying to milk him for all his worth. Your body crumples, nearly hitting the floor. He holds you while you shutter through it, kissing along your temple.

He guides you gently to the floor, laying you on your back before boxing you in with his own. He guides your thighs over his hips.

He slides in much easier after your first orgasm. By the time he’s fully seated inside you, you already accept your fate. He takes a minute to look where you're conjoined, your puffy pussy taking all of him.

He pulls out just enough before slamming back in, watching your face. Your groan, your head lulling back. He does it again, and again. Shallow, slow thrusts to get you used to the weight of him. He’s seeing stars behind his eyes, watching your face contort while he overstimulates you on purpose.

“You’ve got more in you,” He pants out, “I know you’ve got more in you.”

Those swallow thrusts change into deeper, faster ones. Hitting that spot inside you over and over. Your skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat, his blood is drying on your body. The sight of it is making him insane. Peter leans over and starts sucking bruises into the soft flesh of your neck. His teeth trace your jugular.

“One more,” He breathes in your ear, “Gimme one more…”

Your abs are twitching underneath him, whimpering and whining and clinging to him. You say his name over and over, like it’s the only word that exists in your brain.

His thrusts get more sloppy, feeling your own second impending orgasm build pushes him toward the edge.

“Gonna cum inside you…” Not a question, a statement.

No going back.

You only cry out, seeking out his mouth to drown out the embarrassing noises you’re making. He licks into your mouth just as you tighten and gush around him again.

With one final thrust, he cums deep inside you. He bites down hard on your lower lip.

Now, he’s got your blood on him. No matter how small the amount.

“I love you,” He whispers against your skin, “I love you…”

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. You lean your head against him.

“If you love me, really, you’ll help me clean up.”

He laughs. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in weeks.

“Fine,” He presses a noisey kiss to the crown of your head, “Shower?”

“A shower shower,” You say, “No funny business.”

“I promise nothing.”

“Christ, Peter, at least wait until I can stand…”

It’s a start.

#tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spider man x you #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter smut #tasm imagine #andrew peter parker #peter 3 x y/n #peter 3 x reader

[ephedrathirsts]

Teach me

Synopsis: Your best friend asks you to take his virginity. As the both of you spend more time getting intimate with each other, you are forced to acknowledge your feelings for one another.

Contains: idiots in love trope, friends to lovers trope, lovers in denial, one-bed trope, crack and sarcasm, mutual pining, smut, fingering (reader receiving), dry-humping, fluff, afab reader, eventual angst, anger issues, allusions to surgery

Pairing: Hunter Sylvester! x afab! reader

Word count: 4900

Parts: I, II

You woke up feeling Hunter's breath tickling the back of your neck, his hand still resting firmly on top of you. You turned around to look at him as he was asleep. He looked very peaceful- a huge contrast with his usual state of being. His eyebrows were scrunched up and his mouth was slightly open. He looked cute just lying there. He pulled you closer and nuzzled into you.

  "I could feel you staring at me even in my sleep." He yawned and swallowed.

 You were caught, embarrassment flooding your head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You whispered apologetically.

 "It's ok, you can make it up to me by staying like this for a little bit." You flushed. He wanted to hold you close. You were baffled but also incredibly joyful about it.

 "I can do that." You assured

  He made a clicking noise with his tongue and pecked your cheek. You were melting. The last thing you had ever imagined is Hunter being so soft and loving. I guess it is true what people say- harsh exterior, mushy interior. His hair was getting all messy as he adjusted to lay on your chest and put his arms on your sides.

 This whole course or whatever he called it was working all too well with you realizing that you might in fact have feelings for this weirdo. You couldn't keep lying to yourself anymore. Your heart was getting warmer for him by the second and the lovey-dovey act made it all the worse. You needed to snap out of it. Detach before it got fatal.

 "I think I need to go home."

 "We haven't even had breakfast yet. There is Captain Crunch in the kitchen, especially for you." He smiled

 "Oh, fuck you, asshole." You jabbed him lightly in the ribs and giggled.

 "Ouch, that hurt a lot. Don't you want to kiss it better?" He pouted, pleading to you with his eyes.

 You lowered your head to level with his ribs and kissed them over his T-shirt. Then you quickly got out of bed and got your clothes from his desk. "Ok, I gotta run now. Hope you feel better." You nudged yourself to get dressed as fast as possible and head out of the door but before you knew it he was out of bed and hugging you.

 "I'm not going to be keeping you. Just wanted to say bye." He declared as he put one loose strand of hair behind your ear.

 Your heart was in your throat. Or somewhere else entirely, you weren't sure. But all you knew was that you couldn't speak. You couldn't say anything. You tried to calm down your breathing discreetly, bit down on your tongue, and coughed up a quiet "goodbye". You let go of him and rushed out the door.

 His face dropped once you had gone. He knew he had fucked up. Maybe you wouldn't want to even see him again. He probably freaked you out with how needy he was acting but he couldn’t control it. His plan wasn’t going so great after all.

 "Fuck!" He hissed as he punched the kitchen island. "Shit, that actually did hurt. Fuck!" He snickered again, holding his fist close to his face so he could inspect it.

 "Don't break any of my furniture, kid!" His dad came into the room. "You had a rough night? Wanna talk about it..." For a moment Hunter considered it and then..

 "... I mean I get it; they always look prettier at night and in the morning... Uh... Real hags, am I right?" He tried to sound as if he empathized with his son.

 "You are talking about my best friend!" Hunter snapped.

 "Oh, she spent the night. She is a good kid. But what I said still applies. Everyone looks better at night and when you wake up you realize you made a mistake..."

 "Yeah, I get that," Hunter mumbled to himself with a pained expression. "I'm alright, I'm just gonna go down to my room."

 "Ok, kiddo. I'm gonna make bacon later, you can help yourself to a serving.." Hunter had already left.

  In the meantime, you were sprinting home, galloping even, floating through the air. But why? You felt so nice with him. There was no actual reason for you to go. You couldn't take it. All this uncertainty. All of these intrusive thoughts clouding your judgment. You couldn’t like your friend. Especially not now. Not after what you agreed to do. It is only bound to become worse for you while in the back of his mind there was probably a mental list of all of the girls he was going to bed or whatever.

You had to put your feelings aside. Your friend needed you and you promised to help. And to start making things right you needed to apologize. "I'm sorry I ran off in such a hurry. I remembered I had to look after my uncle's dog. I had a really good time last night! Next time you can pick the show :)"  

  You texted, wanting to make sure you didn't offend him in any way with your behavior, sprinkling in a little white lie to seem as not so big of an asshole.

 Hunter's phone buzzed. He saw he got a text from you. He wasn't prepared for whatever you had sent but curiosity urged him to open the message. "It's no problem. Next time we are doing it at yours and ur ordering."  He replied, a smile appearing on his face.

  Hunter came over to your house the next weekend. He made a mental note: no funny business, no overdoing it, no scaring you off. He wanted to do anything and everything with you. Go all the way, but you didn't need to know it or sense it. He shouldn't have made it obvious. "Ok, here goes nothing." He whispered to himself.

 You opened the door after hearing him knock, shivers and cold sweats running down your body. You could do this. It was just a normal hang-out with your friend. Nothing more. The two of you hadn't spent one on one time for a whole week. That's probably why you were feeling so anxious. "Hello there.." you said awkwardly."Come on in. I've ordered Chinese food and I have snacks."

 "Cool.." he smiled politely, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  "What do you want to watch.."

 "Look I'm sorry. I can't just not say anything. I know I weirded you out last time and I didn't mean to. We can stop with the lessons. I can learn the old-fashioned way." He cleared his throat

 "Hunter, you can't possibly weird me out, we've known each other for so long that there Is nothing you could do to achieve that..." You stated well-intentioned, completely lying through your teeth. "I said I was going to help you and from the beginning, you told me how you wanted it to be. You don't want it to seem fabricated, you want it to be natural, and if that's how you are around people you like then whoever gets on your rooster will be incredibly lucky." You smiled at him invitingly

 "Thank you.." he still felt a bit shy and out of place but he appreciated your words. "So we are continuing this experiment?" He asked, waiting for a confirmation.

 "As long as you want to, yes."

 "Great, that's great, yeah. It is totally going to help in the future... you know... when I like someone.."

  "Yeah, I do know." You mumbled disappointedly.

  The both of you were seated on the sofa in the living room, barely speaking to each other, not because you were so engulfed in the incredible storytelling of "Extreme Cheapskates" but because the both of you were too afraid to disturb the peace, to ruin everything. There was an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and both of you secretly wanted to break it, but you were set on restraining yourselves. Wishing that the other would be the one to make the first move or to speak up.

 "I'm gonna go get the popcorn out of the microwave. Be right back"

 "Ok, don't take too much time or you might miss the juicy part."

 "Sure, as if there is a juicy part." You welled sarcastically from the kitchen, reaching into the microwave, distractedly feeling for the hot bag of popcorn, palms first. You yelped in pain.

 "Fuck, ouch" you hissed. Hunter jumped out of his seat and hurried over to you. He looked at you with worry as you ran your hand under the kitchen sink, cold water splashing over your skin.

 "I'm ok, don't worry. Just slightly burned myself, a common mistake. Just me being clumsy." You joked but you could still see him coming closer to you to inspect your hand, drying it off with a towel and holding it caringly.

  "Do you have Band-Aids or a plaster?" He asked

  "Don't be silly, this is nothing. It's not even an actual burn. It just stung a little bit. That's all." You said reassuringly, becoming increasingly aware of his proximity. You could smell his cologne, see every little scratch on his face. As he was holding your gaze, he brought your hand to his mouth and started planting little kisses over it. You gulped. You couldn't take it. His eyes boring into yours. Into your soul even.

  He opened his mouth to speak a soft "Is that better?" but you hungrily hushed him with your lips, gripping tightly onto the fabric of his jacket.

 He kissed you back, hands on your waist, pulling you close, sensing the scent of your shampoo. He wanted you and maybe you wanted him too.

  Not letting go of each other, you led him back into the living room and pushed him down onto the sofa. You were on top of him, looking down with a sheepish smile. He reached up and cupped your face, kissing you way more confidently this time, his tongue meeting yours and playing with it. He put his hands on the small of your back, pushing you down to close the gap between you. As you broke away, he started looking at you all starstruck.

 "Do you want to go up to my room?" You asked in a hushed voice. That's all he ever wanted for as long as he could remember, but now when the possibility was so close he panicked. He wasn't ready to have you this close not knowing whether it was going to last.

 "Yeah, I do," he said as he gently kissed your neck. "But I can't…I can't do it tonight…I'm sorry." He broke away from your skin

 "Oh?" Flush set over your face. "I didn't mean... I get it if you're not ready, I just wanted more privacy... Not sure when my parents are gonna come bursting through the door. I can't have them seeing me on top of you like this."

 Fuck, that's how it sounded. I mean maybe you wanted it. You did want to actually. But you were going to let it play out slow and steady. You didn't mean to rush things.

 "Oh, ok then.. let’s go.." Hunter chuckled embarrassedly.

 "I mean, I thought you were staying over. Like when I stayed over last time. I'm sorry I made things awkward. I didn't mean to kill the mood." You fidgeted with your fingers.

  "It's ok, you didn't." He laughed softly and pecked your lips.

  Both of you went up the stairs and straight to your room. You were getting progressively hornier. Inexplicably so, right? You hushed the lighting a bit and played music from one of his playlists so he feels more at home. Then you held his hand and whispered: "Do you want to come to bed with me?"

  "Yes, positively so." He answered excitedly.

 He was such a kid. You loved him for it. Uh.. the l-word. Nope, too early for that. Time to push the thought down and not examine it ever again.

 He laid on top of you this time, stroking your hair and slowly kissing down your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. He looked down at you adoringly and played with the hem of your shirt.

  "You can take it off if you want to." You told him almost inaudibly

 A rush coursed through his body, he put his arms on your stomach and slowly started to peel it off of you when a voice echoed through the house. "Honey, we are home." Shit, cockblocks. The nation's favorites. "Come down for a moment, you need to put away all these plates if you are going to bed. You can't just leave a mess like that." Your mom shouted.

  "Coming" you answered with annoyance. "I'm sorry.." you started massaging your temples angrily

 "It's ok, I'll come down with you. It's my mess too." He grinned lovingly and you gave him an appreciative kiss in response. "Thanks"

After you were done washing the dishes and organizing them back into their respective places, the two of you went up to your room again. "I'm sorry for the interruption." You looked at him apologetically

 "It's ok, we can pick up where we left off some other time right?" He asked all hopeful and giddy.

 "Yes, of course." You went to the bathroom and undressed. Putting on one of your favorite slip dress. Maybe you weren't going to have sex tonight but you could still give him a view. Hunter peeled off his T-shirt and jeans and tucked himself in bed, sniffing your pillows before you came back in.

  "I'm sorry. It is so warm. I'm going to boil if I wear the T-shirt..." He spat out distractedly as he saw you come closer to him.

 "That's ok. I want you to be comfortable." You were holding his gaze and you could see his eyes all too obviously roaming your body. Your hair was down, the skirt of the gown ending only a couple of inches after your thighs. One of the straps had slid down your shoulders and the material of the dress was leaving pretty little to the imagination.

 Without a beat, he grabbed you by the hips and positioned you on top of him, your skirt riding up and revealing more of your skin to him. Both of your straps were slightly off your shoulders now and your breath had hitched in your throat. "Hunter.."

  "…You said you weren't ready.." you uttered as his lips came down to your neck, not so tentatively this time, not caring at all whether he left a mark. You gasped loudly at this action.

 "I can still make you feel good, right?" He said in a hushed husky tone. "What else are a guitarist’s fingers good for? Just don't make too much noise. I don't want your parents banning me from your house." He smirked and flipped you over getting on top of you. You had never wanted him more. You bit your bottom lip. You were getting so wet just by listening to him talk.

  He continued kissing and sucking on your neck and slowly touching up your thighs, scratching them, making you hiss. "May I?" He said pleading.

 "Ye-yes... Please do.."

 He was getting so fucking hard seeing you like this. But he wanted to prove himself to you. Show you how much he values your pleasure over his. He started massaging your clit, warranting a gasp or two from you. As he found the right tempo, he could see you fully letting go, gripping tightly onto his biceps. Scratching him as you did, which he loved.

 When he was sure you were wet enough, he inserted one of his fingers into you, hitting you just in the right spot. Your legs were shaking. You were nothing but a sweating, cursing mess under his touch."Fuck, Hunter, don't stop!"

  "Not planning to."He dipped his head to suck on the upper part of your breasts and added in another finger. Pumping in and out at a steady pace he started moving faster into you, making you moan. Damn all of his experience plucking strings. It felt waay too good.

 He thrusted into you faster, knowing all too well you weren't going to last much longer. He bore into your eyes. He could see you were close, you just needed a little encouragement and encouraging he was:  -"It's ok, you can let go. Come all over my fingers. I'll lick them clean later."

 That was all you needed to hear. You gripped him harder, pushing yourself up to crash into him, and bit down on his shoulder as you finished all over his hand. He continued fingering you until you came down from your high.

 He removed his fingers from you and inserted them into his mouth, savoring every little drop of you. "You taste fucking amazing." He exclaimed as he bent down to kiss your lips. Your cheeks were red and there was no hiding it.

  You held up a glass of water to him. You were mesmerized as if you were seeing him with new eyes. This was Hunter, your presumed ‘just friend’. The one who had just made you come and put you on cloud nine. After he gulped down his water he asked with a concerned expression: "Did I do well?"

 You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him gently. “Yes, you did fantastically." You smiled into his lips and he smiled too.

   The metal aficionado was extremely geeked. Reviewing his notes every day and replaying the time you had spent together in his head constantly. He was trying to be slick, but he wasn't sure how long it would take before he crumbled.

 He had fooled you. Unbeknownst to you, he had no intention of even entertaining the idea of getting with his so-called ‘groupies’. He wanted you to be his teacher because was only interested in pleasing one person- you. Studying what you desire and what puts you off.

  It probably sounded a bit scheming but he couldn't just go up to you to confess that he liked you, you know, as a normal fucking human being would. He didn't even want to fully admit it to himself. Emotions were tricky for him and so were for you. The situation wouldn't have gone anywhere if he were to breach the gap with you not returning his feelings. No, he needed a plan to make you want him too and he was willing to do anything to achieve it. That's why when you finally followed up on your next lesson, he was ecstatic.

 "I'm gonna come by your place later tonight."

  "Cool, text me when ur close." He wanted to sound nonchalant but he was freaking out. Acting like a fangirl watching fancams of one of her favorite kpop idols. He was so giddy and happy that even his father got worried.

"What the fuck is that squeaky noise coming out of your room, kid? Are you ok?"

"I'm doing amazing birth enabler! Also don't just pop in the stairway without announcing yourself. I could be wanting my privacy."

 "When you get yourself a fancy house with a pool, music studio, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, kitchen and living room by cutting and filling up tits is when you will be entitled to your privacy."

"I know you would rather be FEELING up tits instead-but if I were to properly think about doing some of that myself I would still need my fucking space, so leave! Now!"

"I'm paying your therapist way too much!"

"That's all of the precious boob money for you!" Hunter screamed annoyed, trying to sound witty while he heard a different set of footsteps down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, did I come at the wrong time? I texted you ten minutes ago and rang the doorbell but you didn't reply so I let myself in. Oh, and hello mister Sylvester."

"Well hello to you too, looks like some people your age still have manners, Hunter! Always a pleasure to have you home, darling. I wanted to say I'm sorry about your aunt… It's terrible what happened to her. You know you're basically family so if you ever want to have a breast augmentation, I can make you a deal for the implants afterward. With a chest your size, not too big to be a burden to your back but still eye-catching enough you should keep the volume so..."

 "Father, get the fuck out! And stop staring at students’ tits!"

 "Don't get ridiculous Hunter, she is like a daughter to me. I would never.. anyways I think I have some work to do. I'm gonna leave you kids to it." He replied as he not so discreetly winked at Hunter

 "Fuck... Fucking finally. I'm so sorry! He was incredibly fucking insensitive and creepy."

 "He was staring directly at my chest, like eyeing it reeal good."

 "Yeah, he is fucking disgusting. I'm so sorry."

 "It isn't your fault; you don't have to apologize for his behavior. I'm fine."

 "Do you want to come some other time; I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

 "No, I take all of my ventures very seriously. I told you I was going to be here so here I am."

"Yeah," Hunter said self-consciously, scratching the back of his neck. He noticed how pretty you looked. You always looked pretty, but you had gone out of your way to do so this time. With your hair done, make-up on, a familiar scent of your perfume drifting through the air and the pendent Hunter had gifted you for your birthday hanging around your neck. He was entranced.

 "I don't think we should go all the way tonight. We are still testing things out, being in the beginning stages and all."

 Hunter snapped back awake from his daydream."Mhm" was all he could muster. He wanted to go and grab you, kiss you right this moment but he couldn't just do that after his father's speech. He needed to get the mood going. "Firstly, do you want to listen to some music? You can play whatever you want. Even your shitty the Weeknd knockoffs."

 "Chase Atlantic have some good songs, ok? And it's not so much about quality with them. It's about the vibe of it all. The experience. But that's a great suggestion for the occasion."

 "I don't know, they sound like try-hard vampire wannabes."

 "Yeah, that’s the beauty of it."

 You turned on the speaker and played one of your playlists. For a moment you were somewhere else, mouthing the lyrics, humming to yourself, slowly rocking your hips in tune with the music as Hunter came up behind you and turned your head so you were facing him."Good thing you're also beautiful, otherwise I would never listen to that crap." He muttered in a hushed voice.

  You mustered a barely audible "thank you" and he shushed you with his lips. It was hard to get used to. Him touching you like that, talking to you like he wasn't little old Hunter. The one you grew up with, the one you had known ever since diapers, but right now it was too hard to perceive him that way. You had already gone over the crossing line and there was no going back.

 He held your hand in his and whispered into your mouth: "Do you want to come to bed with me? I promise I won't do anything to scare you off." Batting his eyelashes, trying to look as innocent as possible.

 "Do you even know how to?" You teased, feeling him come up against you again way more assertively this time.

  His hands landed on your hips, yours entangled in his hair. His tongue slithered into your mouth, soft gasps escaping both of you. He was calculated at first, confident but measured until he got progressively hungrier for your kiss. As you started reaching for his back, pushing him closer and closer to you he deepened the kiss and began roaming your body with his hands. Your knees were getting weak just from the slightest touch. He was a virgin but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a hell of a good kisser. You started to lose balance. He prompted you up by sliding his knee between your legs. A dirty trick that was working very well in his favor.

You parted to get some air and he whispered again. "I hope not." You were flushed, all knots in your stomach and trembling pulsing sensation all over your limbs. He had turned you into jello just by kissing you and that did scare you because you didn't expect to feel this good, to want him so much.

 "Lead the way." You your heart was racing.

 Hunter grabbed your hand again and sat on top of his bed. To his surprise, you didn't sit next to him or opposite him. You made yourself comfortable in his lap, lightly grinding down on him. All of his confidence from before flew out the window. You looked at him with lust in your eyes, your lips forming a devilish smile as you scanned his face. He was getting nervous. He wanted to impress you and he loved every second of it but he wasn't expecting you to look at him the same way. He guessed you were committed to your job. He was speechless just looking at you, wanting to remember this forever.

"What are you getting so shy for, didn't you invite me here?" You grinned cockily "It's ok baby boy, I can do some of the work now. You just relax." You whispered into his lips kissing him yourself with none of the measure or sensitivity of some of your previous kisses. You were boiling from the inside. A volcano ready to erupt. You grinded on him wantingly, letting him feel the wetness seeping through your underwear as your skirt had ridden up your thighs, exposing them deliciously. He moaned in response when you pulled on his hair, nibbling and sucking on his lips and finishing him off by biting the lower one.

 You being so desperately horny for him got him so incredibly hard. He was a mess under your touch but he needed you to be one under his as well. He couldn't control it anymore. He held down your inner thighs, squeezing them hard as his fingers dug into your skin. You gasped and moaned. He began sucking on your neck, leaving purple bruises on his path. He licked and kissed your calves and upper breasts as you purred into his ear."Hunter, this feels so damn good."

 Electricity coursed through his body. He needed to have you all to himself like this forever. He gripped your hips hard, moving you on top of him faster and faster. He kissed you just like you had kissed him

before. With his lustful tongue making patterns in your mouth, sucking on your lips, and then biting you playfully. He put more and more speed in, feeling your heat press against his erection so violently. He was going to come; he couldn't contain himself but he needed you to come with him too.

 "God, you make me insane. You are so fucking hot." He hissed while bucking his hips upwards, hitting your core in the most sinful way.

 You could see he was close and you needed something to push both of you off the edge so without even thinking you whimpered into his mouth. "If you get this hard and desperate for me now, I could only imagine what you would do when you're stretching me out with your dick."

 That was the last straw. He couldn't hold on anymore. He came under you, cum bursting all over his boxers and he couldn't be happier about it. Your legs were twitching as you came a second later, a vibration coursing through your body. You closed your eyes for a moment just to open them and to remember -you just made your best friend cream his pants and you wanted to do it again and again.

 But then the sinking feeling came in. He wanted to do this as a form of practice for other girls. He was going to creep up under your skin,  get to your heart, and then use all of the moments you've spent together to please someone else. Like it didn't mean anything. And the worst part was that this was exactly what you agreed to, so why did it make you ache?

  Hunter was blissful. He was much closer to you than he had ever been before and it seemed like you were feeling this newfound closeness too, that you liked It, but this voice in the back of his head came back rushing in: "She is just following up on her promise. If she feels anything towards me right now, it's probably pity."

 You slowly untangled yourself from the metalhead, got up, and straightened up your skirt. "Well, I gotta go now. Good job today, partner.. uh student." You gave him an awkward high-five and bolted out of his room.

 Yeah, it was definitely pity.

#metal lords #metal lords hunter sylvester #metal lords fanficition #metal lords smut #hunter sylvester #hunter sylvester fanfiction #hunter sylvester smut #hunter sylvester x reader #hunter sylvester x reader smut #hunter sylvester x afab reader #hunter sylvester x afab reader smut #hunter sylvester imagine #kevin schlieb

[gaysindistress]

Sad girl - fourteen

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), sub Bucky if you squint.

word count: 2.1k

part 13 | series masterlist

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman    @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv @iateall-yourcookies  @alana4610 @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @goldensunflowe-r @wh0reforbucknasty @cjand10​  @katymae12344  @vickie5446

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Nat had become her glam squad at this point, helping her get ready for every event she had to attend. Glam squad, shopping buddy, bodyguard, and friend were the titles that she happily wore. Both women were in the bathroom of Bucky’s D.C. condo, getting Doll ready for the party. Neither had even seen Steve, Sam, or Bucky since they’d arrived earlier that morning. She had gotten a text from Bucky to confirm the details for the night but not much else. It stung that he had gone back to short and formal messages after doting on her while he was away. 

The ring boxes sat heavily on the counter, her stare focused entirely on them as she sat and let Nat do her hair. She hadn’t spoken the entire time and her usual chatter was missed by the woman doing her hair. 

“Rethinking your decision?”

“What?” she blinked at Nat through the mirror, “Oh no just confused I guess. He tried to be this macho asshole when he left but then acted like a loving husband while he was gone and now he’s back to being a dick.”

Nat hums in agreement as she gently rubs oil into the ends of the other woman’s hair.

“I thought making him work for my forgiveness would have him waiting for me with a room full of roses but this,” she shakes the phone in her hand, “this is what I get. No ‘how are you?,’ ‘how was the flight?’, nothing. Did I push him too far?”

Taking a deep breath and setting her hands on Doll’s shoulder, Nat meets her gaze in the mirror, “I think he genuinely felt bad for how he tried you and when you didn’t come running back to him, his ego got bruised and now he’s putting up a wall to prevent that from happening again.”

Her shoulders shag in Nat’s gentle grasp, “Oh my god and I got that dress and had that ring engraved and I had this whole plan for the limo. Oh my god what am I going to do?”

“Woah, woah what was the limo plan? You didn’t say anything about that.”

Looking rather sheepishly, she exposes her plan to Nat, “I had Steve arrange for us to have a separate limo to the party so I could… you know…”

Nat raises an eyebrow, “What? What were you going to do?”

“You know, dominate him because he did the same thing to me,” she mumbles weakly, not bothering to look at Nat’s surprised face. 

“You were going to dominate him right before a senator’s party in his honor?”

She barely nods in confirmation and Nat squeezes her shoulders in excitement, “If that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. You have to do that.”

It’s her turn to be surprised, turning her head to actually look at Nat, “What? You think it’s a good idea?”

“Of course I do. He needs someone to challenge him every once in a while. It might be good for his ego to be taken down a few pegs.”

_______________________________________________

Seven o’clock on the dot and the limo pulled up in front of the condo. Before Bucky could open his door to get her, the other door opened and in a blur of white, she slid into the seat next to him. 

“Bye Nat,” she wiggled her fingers in goodbye to the smirking redhead who returned her wave.

The partition instantly closed and it was just the two of them, the jewelry box in her lap, and a lot of unanswered questions. As the limp pulled away from the curb, she said nothing while she adjusted the necklaces around her neck. She had yet to even acknowledge Bucky and the anticipation is starting to itch under his skin. He’s staring at, eyes burning holes into her as he takes in her form. The corseted top perfectly hugged her chest, leaving enough hidden that he knew she would be the center of attention. The slit showed off the legs he had been dreaming of for the last week and the white against her skin gave her an angelic glow. 

Feeling his burning gaze, she smirked to herself and removed the box from her lap to set them on the seat in the middle, “There’s your ring.”

She could see the gulp he took as he reached for the box and the accompanying look of shock when he saw what the ring was. 

“I had my initials engraved on it. I have yours on my necklace so it’s only fair you wear mine too.”

She watches from the corner of her eye as he takes the ring out to inspect it further before sliding it on his ring finger. 

“It looks good,” she finally looks over at him and sticks her hand out so he can get a look at her ring, “I think our rings make quite the pair, don’t you think?”

The diamonds sparkle under the passing lights, catching every ray of light that comes in through the darkened windows of the limo. He gently takes her hand, sending sparks through her, and turns it side to side to look at it. A small hum comes from him, voice stuck in the back of his throat. 

“You can speak,” her voice is mocking at his silent state as she takes her hand back. 

“Doll you look amazing. Better than I imagined,” it’s deep and gruff, filled with desire. 

“I know,” it’s her turn to take in his form. She had half expected him to be wearing a uniform however she found him in a midnight blue three-piece suit complete with his usual watch and pearl bracelet. 

“You look good too,” her simple compliment made him want to launch himself at her to get more out of her signature red lips, however, she’s faster than him. 

She straddles him, causing him to make a surprised noise but it’s muffled by her hand covering his mouth. The look of surprise and lust is one she wants to cherish except she has a limited amount of time to enact her plan. His hands grip her hips tightly as her free hand pops the button of his slacks and slips inside his boxers. The feeling of her soft hand around him is too much and he throws his head back, moans and curses muffled by her hand still. The noises he makes cause a deep ache inside of her and her underwear are growing wetter by the moment. She fully takes him out and bunches her dress up so she can slide her underwear to the side. Sinking down on him both of them let out loud moans at the feeling. Satisfied with her position, she tightens the hand on his mouth and uses the other to put pressure on his neck. 

“You really thought I would let you get away with trying to dominate me like that?” she purrs into his ear as she sets a slow and deep pace, dragging her hips at an achingly slow pace. 

“You should know better than that. I told you I was in control but yet you had to test me, didn’t you? I should use you to get off and make you wait to cum until the end of the night,” she chuckles darkly as the man beneath her shakes and tries to plead against her palm. 

“It’s cute you think you have a say,” she picks up her pace while the sound of bodies slapping against each other fills the air, “keep your hands on my hips and cum when I say.”

She removes her hand from his mouth to steady herself on his shoulder and filthy, loud moans pour out as they move against each other. As they approach the party, they both tense and chant the other’s name chasing their highs together. 

“Cum for me Bucky, let go with me,” she demands of him as she pants. 

A string of fucks and shits leave his mouth as they cum together. She rests her head on his shoulder as she catches her breath. She checks the time on his watch and slides off of him, both of them hissing at the feeling. 

He watches her as she fixes her dress and checks her hair and makeup on her phone. Shooting him a small smirk, she makes a gesture to his pants, “Fix yourself. We’re almost at there.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says under his breath, tucking himself back into his pants and fixing his suit. 

Just as they catch their breath, the partition slides down and the driver tells them that they have arrived. Taking his hand into hers, Doll says, “After you Sergeant.” 

_______________________________________________

As most politicians’ parties are, this one is especially stuffy and rigid, especially considering that it’s in someone’s home. The wannabe White House is filled with politicians, their less-than-happy wives, and enough security you’d wonder if there’s something more serious and sinister going on. Posing as the most perfect couple, Bucky and Doll had been arm and arm, dazzling everyone with their love-drunk smiles. Neither had made mention of what had happened in the limo however that is the first thing on his agenda when Bucky gets her alone. 

Steve and Sam had wandered off some time ago but the line of pushy senators and their judgmental wives was slowly coming to an end. Same as the fundraiser weeks ago, the men were all too focused on Doll’s cleavage and the women left their hands on Bucky’s arm for far too long. 

“James tells me you two got married a couple of weeks ago,” one overly dramatic woman had said, feigning joy at the couple. 

“Oh yes, we did! It was a small ceremony but so perfect,” Doll responded, her left hand coming to his chest so the older woman could see her admittedly massive rings. At the sight, she’d wrinkled up her nose before whispering a “congratulations” and walking away. 

“She acted like I sucked you off in front of her,” Doll says, watching the woman disappear into the crowd. 

Chuckling, Bucky follows her eye line to the retreating woman, “We did come in looking less than presentable.”

“I made sure we both looked normal when we came in.”

“Speaking of that, care to explain?” 

She can feel his blue eyes on the side of her face so she turns to look at him, “I made it pretty clear, didn’t I? I am not your submissive housewife. I’m in control just as much as you are and you needed a reminder of that.”

“Trying to assert your dominance then.”

“I’d say I was successful,” she says under her breath as Steve and Sam make their way back to the couple. 

Bucky smirks, hand finding the middle of her back and smiles at the two approaching men. Steve informs them that the host wants to make a toast and that they need to make their way outside. 

“You never told me why they were honoring you three for.”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he says while guiding her towards the backyard which is really a well-manicured garden. 

“Jesus it looks like they live on the set of Bridgerton,” whispering to Bucky, her eyes wide taking in the elaborate hedges and rose bushes around them. 

“Isn’t this what Anthony’s house looks like?”

“We lived in his apartment. It wasn’t until Morgan was born that Pepper decided they needed a house outside of the city and ‘away from the violence’ that they bought that house,” she explains, using air quotes around most of the statement. 

His thought is interrupted by the host, a short older man in a violently blue suit, who begins to speak. 

“Welcome everyone! My wife and I want to say thank you for joining us this evening,” he shouts over the crowd, greedily grabbing his much younger wife, “We asked you here to celebrate three very special gentlemen and what they have done for this country. Steven Rogers, Samuel Wilson, and James Barnes fought bravely for our country in Iraq together only to come back and continue to serve us selflessly. These three men have given most of their lives to protect their fellow American citizens and we can’t thank them enough. In addition to being fearless soldiers, they are also close friends of mine as well as many of you so let’s raise our glasses in honor of them. To Steven, Samuel, and James!” The crowd erupts into a cacophony of shouts, cheers, and hoorahs. Cameras flash, blinding the four as the senator poses with them, no doubt using their veteran and mercenary statuses to garner more votes and support. 

In between photos, she leans over to Bucky to clarify their earlier conversation, “All this to show off his fancy toy soldiers.”

“Something like that.”

“Now I see why you’re such a controlling asshole, always under the thumb of smaller and weaker men.”

The hand on her hand shifts to harshly grab her waist, “Or I have a spitfire for a wife.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #mob au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky barnes x reader #sad girl - bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #mob!bucky barnes smut

[simplygyuu]

Teddy bear - 3 : how is he TWEETING??

*⁀➷synopsis ! : on your birthday one of your best friends, soobin, gifts you an adorable teddy bear. you keep it all day once he gave it to you, carrying the adorable thing around for your entire birthday day and going to sleep with it that night. the next morning you wake up with.. a man in the place of your precious bear?! he doesn't have a name and he looks at you like you hung all the stars and.. did he just say he WAS the bear?

wc(0.8k)

there are tweets at the end

beomgyu was.. definitely a character. it was obvious he knew nothing of the human world, he acted almost like a child. he was bubbly and loud and extremely curious. you had to hold onto his sleeve to even keep him from running off.

"so.. you sure are energetic." you commented while you made a simple breakfast, keeping an eye on him through your peripheral. he was wandering around the kitchen curiously, observing the plates and cutlery.

"am i? this is how all humans act, right?" beomgyu responded simply, picking up a fork to inspect it. he poked the top of the prongs curiously. "all the little humans ive seen are just like me... am i acting unnatural?"

little humans?

oh, he must be talking about kids. it made sense. he did used to be a teddy bear in the kids section, no wonder he thought all people acted like a kid. now, his childish behavior began to make sense.

"hmm not really. you've probably only seen kids, but its alright ill help you adapt." you responded, looking back towards the eggs you were cooking.

honestly, you didnt know if there was a way for beomgyu to be a bear again. it was weird how this even happened but he acted so unnaturally that you believed him.

you glanced back over to see beomgyu picking up a knife; causing your eyes to widen.

"woah! put that down." you said quickly, running over to take it away from him. god, would you have to child proof your house or something?

beomgyu just sulked a bit but let you take it away. he still seemed infatuated with you. honestly you couldnt tell why he was that way, maybe it was gratitude?

"okay so i still need to go to work today, so that means i need you to stay here." you began while scraping the eggs onto two plates and setting them down at the living room table. you gestured for him to sit down, which he quickly did before fully focusing on you.

"first of all we need some ground rules." you began before gesturing for him to eat. he seemed confused, so you internally sighed a bit before taking a bite of your eggs as well to show him how. once he seemed okay on his own, you continued.

"first, under no circumstances will you open the door or go outside. i dont care what the person says, i have a key i wont need you to open the door." you stated seriously, making sure he nodded before continuing.

"secondly, please dont break anything or hurt yourself. i dont have a way to contact you if something happens." you added simply, watching him basically devour the eggs. it might just be the first thing hes ever tasted.

"okay, thank you for not throwing me out yn.." beomgyu mumbled softly, mouth full.

you couldnt help but smile at him, maybe this wouldnt be so bad. he wasnt horrible company or anything and he was cute.

you two sat together for a few minutes just eating. you didnt say anything, but beomgyu didnt either. he seemed to only talk when spoken to.

checking the time, you sighed and stood up. "i need to go now, remember the rules." you stated as you took up both of your plates and placed them in the sink, you could wash them later.

"ill see you when i get home, alright?" you said as you slipped your shoes on, looking back at him.

beomgyu just smiled and nodded his head vigorously, his hair flopping around and the ears on his head staying up cutely. "bye yn, have a good day!" he called out as you closed the door.

once you were gone, beomgyu stood in front of the door for a few minutes just staring. he didnt know what to do with himself once he was alone. finally, he turned around and decided to explore some more.

beomgyu walked throughout the entire house, peeking his head into each room curiously before eventually ending back up in your bedroom. he then noticed the interesting thing sitting open on your table. it was almost shaped like the childrens books hes seen, just bigger and much thinner.

curiously he picked it up before sitting down on your bed. he noticed the letters on the bottom of it, pressing one with furrowed brows.

suddenly, the black part lit up. he jumped a bit in surprise, eyes wide before tilting back the screen to look at it better.

"what is this..?" he whispered curiously, noticing the many different words across the screen.

"..'i dont want to go to work'.. " he read out, head tilted before deciding to press the big blue button on the screen. it took him a moment to figure out the mouse pad, but he did.

taglist ! : @lynnfv @openingssequence @wonioml @lunaavity @sunarintoes

notes ! : we are finally getting back into the smau part... hopefully this isnt too much writing

previous ! masterlist ! next!

#beomgyu #tommorow x together #txt #txt beomgyu #beomgyu smau #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #txt smau #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #fluff #bear beomgyu truther #kpop #kpop smau #beomgyu x y/n

[harlowsbby]

hear me out 👀 for “in my head,” the reader is in a relationship with jack and the reader has a good version of him, although the readers family and friends were skeptical of him. by the end, the reader realizes their relationship’s flaws. i don’t know if that makes sense but it’s emotional.

Boy I invented you Part 1

You thought your relationship with Jack was sunshine and rainbows you loved Jack so much he was your other half the man of your dreams, but your family and friends didn’t like Jack they saw Jack for what he truly was but not you all you saw was the version of Jack you painted in your head.

You saw the version of Jack that you invented in your head sooner or later you had to wake up and see just how toxic and draining your relationship with him was.

“Jack! I made some breakfast this morning I know you’ll be busy at the studio all day.” You yelled from your spot from the kitchen, you had made Jack some homemade waffles, sausage and eggs and even some homemade orange juice.

“Girl you really think he’s going to even eat all that. I swear that man is so ungrateful.” Your friend Kourtney’s voice came through the phone, nobody in your friend group or your family liked Jack they said he wasn’t the man for you and didn’t treat you right at all, but you never paid them no mind you didn’t have time for the drama.

“Yes, he will, and he is grateful look Kourtney, I don’t need you opinion on Jack too it’s bad enough my family hates him.”

“Fine I’ll drop it.. just for today but I’ll see you later tonight alright I love you beautiful.”

“I love you too Kourtney and I’ll see you later.” For the past four months you’ve been planning a party for Jack just to celebrate all his achievements this year 2022 has been treating Jack right and you were beyond thrilled and proud of him.

You’ve put basically your whole entire life savings into planning this party the amount of money you’ve spent, and time and effort was something you can’t get back, so you only prayed he’d like everything.

Hearing footsteps upstairs you smiled hearing that Jack was finally awake, you quickly finished plating everything before tossing all the dirty dishes back inside the dishwasher.

“I’ll see you later Kourtney, I love you.”

“I love you too girly bye.”

You smiled seeing Jack strolling into the kitchen he smiled right back at you before pulling you in for a kiss.

“Good morning baby, it smells good in here.”

“Thank you I spent all morning making you some eggs, bacon and hash-browns I even got Maggie’s homemade waffle recipe for her.”

“That’s really sweet of you baby but I’m actually not going to have time to eat with you.”

You pulled away from his and gave him a confused look what did he mean he didn’t have time to eat breakfast with you, the breakfast that took you a good two hours to make, he just got back home from your where else did he have to go.

“Where are you going? You just got back from tour Jack where else do you need to go.” You weren’t understanding what he was saying and why he needed to leave.

“Baby you know I have to go see Nemo and Drama today for finishing touches on this song I’ve been working on with Bryson.”

“You’re working on a song with Bryson? How come you’re just now telling me. I can tag along with I haven’t seen you that much you know since you’ve been gone on tour.”

“It was sort of a last- minute type of thing baby but I’ll be back tonight okay!” You went to stop him, but Jack quickly kissed your cheek and hurried out the door.

“Well looks like it’s just breakfast for one huh Miles.” Your cat miles meowed his little orange tail flapping around as he went to eat his breakfast.

You just wished Urban was able to get him to the party in time tonight.

After you ate breakfast, you got everything cleaned up and organized, the party didn’t start until 7pm that night and it was currently 12pm so you had time for a little nap before you started getting ready.

After your nap you woke up and quickly jumped into the shower the entire time in the shower you just prayed that tonight was going to be a good night. You decided on an all-black dress that stopped just by your thighs paired with some black heels and the gold butterfly chain Jack gifted you for your birthday last year. 

When you arrived you were greeted by Kourtney who of course was bossing around the people decorating the bowling alley for the party. 

“Kourtney leave these people alone they did a great job it looks so good in here.” You smiled at the workers at looked at the room in awe it looked so amazing they had blue and white balloons everywhere along with a couple of banners and lots of other decor needed for a party they even had an ice sculpture made out of Jack’s face. 

“Have you called Urban? People are starting to arrive but not the man of the hour.” Kourtney asked you, pulling out your phone you sent Urban a texting asking if they were on the way before stuffing it back in your purse. 

“Y/N! It looks so good in here I think I might need to hire you to plan my birthday.” Neelam stated and you smiled before hugging her. 

“Neelam, I’m honestly surprised you made it Jack told me he’d be busy in the studio today finishing up his song with Bryson.” She took a sip of her margarita and gave you a confused look. 

“Jack has no song with Bryson coming out. At least not that I know of.” 

“He told me he’d be with Drama and You this afternoon to finish up the song so if he isn’t working on a song then what is he doing?” Just as you finished you sentence you got an incoming call from Urban. 

“Y/N uh I tried my best to get Jack to come but he said he’s kicking it with Nemo and the rest of the guys tonight but I’m still coming leave some of the pretzel dog bites for me.” You laughed slightly but the tears started forming in your eyes. 

Maybe everyone was right about Jack maybe he wasn’t the guy you thought he was or the guy you invented him to be. 

I mean sure Jack didn’t know you were planning him this celebration party but it still hurt that he blew you off because it’s all it seemed like he ever did lately. Before he left for tour you tried your best to spend as much time with him but he didn’t seem to care and since he came back from tour he was never home and he was home it was to sleep.

“Y/N are you okay babe? You want to leave.” Neelam coo’d at you and rubbed the side of your arms your lip started quivering and soon enough you busted into tears, you cried and cried your hands gripping the sides of Neelam’s arms.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Kourtney mouthed to Neelam who shook her head at him and rocked you back and forth.

“Let’s just go home babe and get you some much needed rest babe.” You sniffed and nodded and let Neelam led you out the bowling alley.

As if things couldn’t get any worse you got a message from Jack.

Baby 💗

- don’t wait up tonight baby I’ll be with the guys.

You sighed and angrily tossed your phone into your purse, on the car ride home you just looked out the window and couldn’t help but to think was Jack even worth it anymore was he worth the constant heartache.

Pulling your phone out you went to his contact and typed the three words you thought you’d never have to say.

Baby 💗

- Were done Jack.

Thank you @heavyhitterheaux for helping me with this one 🤍

( I probably won’t see notifications when this post cause I’ll be in Disneyland but I hope you all enjoy this piece I can’t wait to see what y’all all think of it 😌💗 )

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

[beomslover]

[sweet love - hueningkai]

𖦹 another one inspired by a song to celebrate my return heh 😅

𖦹 warnings: none! just some sweet highschool!hyuka fluff content for the tl! probably not proofread

——— 𖦹 ———

loving you is my gift

from the very moment hueningkai walked you to school, he knew that you were all he wanted. some may call him naïve or even immature; but he knew right away that he wanted to do anything to make your heart soar the way his did each time you caught his eye. kai wasn’t, by any means, experienced in love. in fact, the last time he even attempted a confession was to his classmate in primary school and even then he may have ended up shoving a box of chocolates into their arms before running back to his best friend, nearly in tears. kai was no natural romantic, no, but that only added to his boyish charms (little to his knowledge).

and you are not clear enough

kai’s biggest and most perplexing problem, perhaps, was that he could never tell how you felt about him. mostly because he had never actually spoken to you. well, he had but hardly ever about anything important. not for lack of trying of course, kai had attempted to speak to you exactly 12 times over the past year you’d been neighbors (he kept track, obviously). every time, though, hueningkai ended up trailing behind or beside you in a half-comfortable half-awkward silence.

not every time ended in failure though. he’d counted exactly five conversations with you that had gone as planned— or, at least almost as planned.

baby, i only care about you

the first time kai spoke to you had been on your first day of your new school. he had scrambled out of his door in a hurry to meet up with his friends before classes began. he was running late, as usual, resulting in him making a mad dash for the school with hardly an ‘i love you, bye!’ to his mother and sisters. “um.. excuse me,” you called out to him, and he remembered the sound of your mellifluous voice as if it was yesterday. hyuka stopped in his tracks and turned to face you, pointing to himself in question as he awkwardly stood outside your gate.

he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as you approached him. kai hadn’t seen you settling in with your family over the weekend because he was cooped up in his room playing games with his best friend, taehyun. “oh, hi… uhm.. good morning!” kai greeted you enthusiastically, flashing you a sheepish smile as he attempted to smooth down his unruly curls (suddenly he regretted not brushing his hair that morning). “didn’t mean to interrupt you but i noticed we have the same uniform,” you explained as you observed the lanky, awkward boy before you.

“would you mind telling me how to get to school, um…” you paused, realizing that you’d never met him before. “kai! huening kai… actually kai kamal huening, not that you would care,” he babbled on, his face getting redder with every word he, for some reason, let slip. “uhm, anyway, i was just heading to school.. we could walk together, if you want?”

you are my dream,

you smiled and nodded your head, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder as you gently pushed open the gate and stepped onto the sidewalk with kai. “thank you so much.. and it’s nice to meet you, kai kamal huening!”

he froze in place, his brain reeling from hearing you call his full name so perfectly. he was so shocked that he didn’t even notice that you’d been waving your hand in front of his face for, what felt like years (but was only fifteen seconds). “oh! sorry.. yes, let’s get going,” hyuka mumbled, embarrassed that he’d already embarrassed himself in front of you.

and so, you walked with him. in a painfully awkward silence that he had absolutely no idea how to break. hueningkai racked his brain for something, anything to talk to you about as you walked almost an entire foot apart on the sidewalk. “so, do you have any hobbies, kai kamal huening?” you asked him, causing the blood to rush to his cheeks yet again. “um… i play games! and um… collect… things..” he answered as vaguely as possible, hoping you wouldn’t ask him— “oh cool! what do you collect?” of course.

“i collect plushies.. molang is my favorite,” kai explained nervously, praying you wouldn’t laugh at him or think he was weird. he could almost feel beads of sweat starting to form as he noticed you nodding silently, seemingly thinking about what he just said. god, he thought, i just met them and they already think i’m weird.. why would i even say that! i should’ve lied and said i collect something cool like ninja stars… “that’s adorable! i don’t know what molang is though, could you tell me more about it?”

my sunshine

and explain he did, for the entire ten minute walk to school. in fact, kai ended up animatedly telling you about all of his favorite plushies, their names, and how he got them. in excruciating detail.

but you never got annoyed with him, no. you were happy to listen to hyuka rant and rave about his favorite bunny plush, tobin, which he’d named after one of his best friends, soobin. and how two of his molang plushies alway somehow ended up under his bed. and how he can’t sleep without hugging something soft.

and that’s when he decided that you were the one for him. not the most logical decision for sure, but the way you giggled at his silly enthusiasm and nodded along with his stories made him feel butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

from then on, hueningkai was determined to make you his sweetest love.

——— 𖦹 ———

𖦹 heeeey :) it’s been almost a full year since i’ve written because my mental health has been at an absolute low, but i wanted to give it a shot with some more hueningkai fluff (because i love him)!! i’m pretty damn rusty but i hope you enjoyed! ♡

#Spotify #hueningkai x reader #txt headcanons #hyuka headcanons #kai kamal huening #tomorrow x together #hueningkai #txt hyuka #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #hueningkai imagines #huening kai #txt #txt post #txt fluff #txt drabbles #txt imagines #txt smut #txt x y/n #txt x reader #txt x you

[archoniluthradanar]

You left this world without me

A "what if..." Aro/OC one-shot

Alice's vision was no vision and really happened

The coven had gone away to take care of an urgent matter, the existence of an immortal child. I expected I would go as well, but Aro had forbidden it. "You are still human," he had said, his hands holding my upper arms. "It's too dangerous."

I protested. "Caius is taking Athenodora. I just want to stand with you, my love."

He raised my hand to kiss my palm. "She is a vampire. No," he said quietly, so quietly, i barely heard him. "I will not put you in danger."

I knew of Carlisle, a long time friend to my mate. They had not seen each other in many decades, and now were about to have a confrontation over the supposed child of Carlisle's son, Edward and his mate, Bella. Why it had to come down to this, I just couldn't understand, even after Aro had explained the nature and history of immortal children.

"Aro, my heart, you would not fight your best friend of many decades like this. Can't you discuss it with him first. Find out the truth before running off to kill them."

Aro had other ideas he would not share with me, I felt that in my heart. It upset me, and the moment he touched my hand, he knew it. He tried to placate me by explaining the importance of preventing immortal children from being created.

"And if this immortal child were not related to Carlisle?" I felt there was something behind Aro's spoken intentions.

Aro glared at me, so I knew I'd touched a nerve. His anger lasted only a moment, when he gathered me into his arms and nuzzled my neck. "You still like to bait me, don't you, cara. This incident concerns Carlisle and vampire law. The Volturi must maintain order by enforcing the law."

"Aro, what has that to do with me going with you?"

"Dear one, to enforce the law, we may have to fight. I won't have you in harm's way. Stay here and wait for us to return. The human staff will be with you if you need anything."

I felt a cold shudder run through my body, reminding me of the old saying "someone is walking on my grave". But I feared it wasn't my grave being walked on.

I hugged my mate tightly, and begged him not to go, causing him to laugh low and kiss me several times to reassure me. "Please, Aro, don't go, stay here with me."

He pulled back, brushing away my human tears, then smiling at me. "How would it look if we didn't go, my dear. It is our duty to investigate every facet of the truth. If the Cullens are innocent, we will leave them in peace. We'll be home soon once that has been determined. I promise you."

I looked into his face, with the pale skin and red eyes. He was beautiful in my own estimation. I would brush his hair at night before I went to bed. I enjoyed touching it and he readily indulged me. I would kiss the back of his neck and hug him from behind. I was to have been changed a week ago, but this issue with the Cullens interfered with that. Aro swore as soon as he returned, he would set a new date and give me my awaited gift...immortality and the life eternal with him.

"I'll hold you to that promise. mister," I warned him.

He took me in his arms and kissed me in that way I knew kissing wasn't all he sought from me. If this was to be our last night together, I wanted him in every way possible. He tried to soothe my fears with more kisses and touches. He loved me as he always had and always would. As I lay in his arms, sated from our love-making, I had to wonder, why was I so apprehensive?

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

The next morning, the entire Guard was attired in their little-worn battle dress. I bid Marcus and Caius good bye, and ordered them to be careful. I then hugged my sister Athenodora, wishing she was staying behind with me. But Caius wanted her with him while my mate didn't want me at his side.

Damn it, woman, you know he only wants to protect you!

Aro pulled me aside to say good bye. I straightened his collar, then patted my hands on his chest. He looked regal in his battle jacket, his cape draped around him. I slipped my arms beneath the cape and held him close. He stroked my hair, saying, "Sarò a casa in men che non si dica, amore mio."

I cried. I couldn't help myself. "You'd better be home sooner than that, Aro." He gave me a final kiss and left with Marcus, Caius, and the rest of the coven following.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was three days since Aro and the coven had left Volterra. I sat on his throne, waiting, my eyes never wavering from the main doors unless I fell asleep. The chef brought me food I didn't touch. Eventually he took the trays away with a head shake and a tsk. I refused to leave the throne room, until my bodily needs prodded me and I had no choice.

I was sitting on Aro's chair, humming some obscure song until I heard a sound, and thought, finally, they're home. It was Felix who entered the throne room first. I smiled and ran to him. "Felix, thank the gods you're safe. Where is everyone else?" I looked around him, my eyes seeking my mate. I peered up at the tall guard, asking only, "Felix?"

He looked down at me, utter sadness on his face. "Felix, where is Aro?" His answer to my question was silence. I grabbed at his jacket and demanded, "Where is Aro!"

"Master Aro has been...destroyed."

It was as if a large rock had hit me in the chest.

"Marcus? Caius? Athenodora?"

"Destroyed, Mistress."

"Demetri, Jane, Alec, Chelsea, Heidi, Santiago?" I rattled off the entire list of the names of our coven.

Felix only nodded in silence.

"No one is left?" Felix survived and I'd wager he felt only guilt for that.

"A few lower guards survived, by fleeing like cowards." he said, his face darkening.

I heard his words all the while pretending I hadn't heard them, before I collapsed to the marble floor. I sobbed, tears flowing down my face. Felix knelt beside me. He picked me up in his arms and took me to our rooms, Aro's and mine. He lay me gently on the large bed.

He went to the bathroom and wet a wash cloth, bringing it to me, dabbing my tears away, then laying it on my forehead. I grabbed his hand, forcing him to sit beside me.

"Tell me what happened. How did he...?"

"I think that should wait. You're in no shape at the moment. In the morning, we can talk."

In the morning. After all night without my mate. The previous nights, I endured being alone, knowing Aro would be returning home soon. Now I had no such assurance. He was dead and I still lived. How would I live without him, without my family. Only Felix remained.

"Felix, what will we do now?"

"Shhhh...there is no need to discuss that at the moment. Would you like anything to eat?"

"Eat? No, no food." The tears flowed again, and I turned into my pillow. I felt Felix's large hand on my back, then the breeze that remained after he fled the rooms. I was alone, truly alone.

I wondered who was responsible for his destruction. Surely Carlisle would not have killed his old friend. Was it one of his children? Edward perhaps? I knew he did not like Aro.

I wanted to know, so what, I could enact revenge on them for the murder of my mate? I gripped the pillow in my hands, wanting to rip it apart.

Aro, you left this world without me.

I fell asleep with his face in my mind, his smile when he was happy, his scowl when he was frustrated, his darkened eyes when he lusted after me. He was with me, inside me, around me. And gods, how I missed him already. It was not possible he was gone.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

The sunlight woke me. I washed up and dressed, seeing my eyes red and my face blotchy from crying in my sleep. I saw a tray of food sitting on Aro's desk in the anteroom. Felix or the chef must have brought it. I had to admit I was hungry now, enough to eat a few sausage links. Then I drank some of the coffee, trying to wake up.

Felix rapped on the inner door, then came in. He saw me eating and gave me a small smile. "Are you feeling better?"

I couldn't tell him I wasn't better. I grabbed his hand and sat him on the sofa beside me. "Felix, I have a favour to ask of you."

"Of course, anything you need."

I looked him in the eyes. "I want you to take me. Drink me."

He frowned. "Do you want me to turn you?"

As if anyone else was left, but no, he misunderstood. "No, I want you to drink me, all of me. End my life."

He shook his head. "No, I can't do that. You're just upset. Take some time. Perhaps we can start a new coven..."

"What? No, I want you to kill me, Felix. Aro left this world without me. I won't allow that. I believe in an after-life. I believe he had a soul. He may be waiting for me even now. Please, do this for me. Create a new coven, my friend, but I can't live without Aro." I begged him with my eyes. I turned my head, tempting him with my throat, the pulse beating for him to see.

I noticed his eyes darkening, the hunger taking over his common sense. He pulled me to him, setting me in his lap. He kissed my forehead, and when I turned my head away from him, he kissed my neck, then bit hard.

This should have been Aro bringing me into his world, not a guard ending my existence in mine.

I felt weak and closed my eyes, my heart beating loudly in my ears. I heard him sucking, felt his lips, his mouth, taking my life from my body. I didn't even struggle against him. I thought I had opened my eyes but I wasn't sure. Was that Aro standing in the corner of the room? He was dressed as when I first met him, in his black suit, shirt, and tie. His shiny hair pulled back with a leather cord. His eyes red, and his smile bright.

My heart beat slowed, even as Felix's sucking slowed. It was almost over. I thanked the guard in a whisper.

Aro reached out his hand to me. "Come with me, my love. We will still be together forever."

I took his hand, no longer cold to the touch. I looked back to see Felix holding my body, rocking me gently, remorsefully, knowing I was gone. And Aro and I left this world, together.

#volturi fanfiction #aro volturi #Vampire death #the volturi #vampire after-life #felix volturi