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ultralightpoe · 3 months

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Tiktok Trouble 3 - Jake Seresin

Authors Note: This had been sitting in my drafts for wayyyyy loo long and now that's it's out I feel terrible.

Word Count: 2742

Warnings: Hints at some steamy stuff but just fun other than that.

My MAIN Masterlist

Part One - - Part Two

(Thank you for the gif @unicornships )

Enjoy!

The first clip posted to his new tiktok account was an accident, one that remained nonetheless.

It starts with the camera swinging back and forth, picking up a conversation being had behind it as whoever was holding the phone swung their hands out to walk. Jakes voice rings out “I’ll have you know-“ before the clip ends and the next starts.

This time the camera is facing them and Jake is staring at the screen with narrowed eyes as Bob Floyd tries to explain it all.

“So I press this button?”

“Yes but it’s already recording.”

“How do you know it’s already recording?”

“Because the ring around the button?”

“What ring?”

“Oh. My. God.” Natasha laughs off camera. “You are so losing to your wife. Can I get her in the divorce? Honest question.”

“There will be no divorce!” Jake announces. “This park war ends in bloodshed.”

“You been watching that Viking show again?” Rooster asks, coming into view with a disappointed look as Jake shrugs.

“……yeah.”

- —-

COMMENTS:

“So pretty and still not a thought between those eyes.”

“I’m on moms side in the divorce.”

“You think he’s top or bottom?”

“bottom fs”

You were in your shared bedroom, reading some book you had gotten today as Jake works around the kitchen, not really knowing what to do with himself on his day off.

Then, like the genius he is, he realizes this would be the perfect time to prank you. So he starts setting up.

First he hides his phone on the glass cabinet, giving it a wink before connecting his iPad to the speaker and hiding the speaker in a cupboard.

He keeps the iPad close, beginning to peel potatoes before he yells loudly “Bubs! Can I get a hand?”

And though you don’t yell back he hears your feet pad along the floors until you hit the stairs and come rushing to him.

“Yeah?” You ask, moving to hug him from behind and kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Can you start prepping the steaks? I got the marinade ready, I just need you to prep em.” He hears you hum and give his back one more kiss before moving to the cupboard to grab the larger plates.

He quickly shoots out and hits play on the video he had pulled up.

The second you open the cupboard door a horrific scream rings out like a demon and you jump back quickly, screaming yourself as you dash to hide beside him.

Unable to help it he cackles, doubling over the counter at your scared face as you slowly piece together what just happened.

“No way.” You gasp.

“Uh huh. Got ya.” He smiles from ear to ear, winking.

“You’re dead Seresin.”

“Right back at ya, Seresin.”

COMMENTS:

“The way she runs to his side has me WEAK!”

“the kiss between his shoulder blades??? SHAHNDJTN

“Aw! Look who learned how to use a phone!”

Your retaliation comes 2 days later, at 3 am in the morning of course.

You had been tossing and turning all night when you got the idea, slipping from the bed to grab your phone and bringing it with you as you shuffle to Jakes side of the bed.

He was out, sleeping like the dead with his face shoved into the pillow and one arm tucked under it to keep it close while his other arm is spread to your side of the bed as if he was reaching for you even in sleep. The muscled expanse of his back is exposed, and the camera gets it all on flash as you lean forward to tap his skin softly and wake him up.

“Bubs. Bubs.” You whisper, sounding panicked which makes him blink groggily. “The laundry bird came and took the goat.”

“What?” He slurs, blinking so slowly you’re sure he’s going back to sleep.

“Bubs come on. The grim reaper broke the washer.”

“Fuck. Why?” He sounds so upset by the washer, even half asleep, you do your best to contain your laugh.

“The ladybugs are meeting and we gotta go greet them.”

“Okay..,.,” he moans, sitting up slightly, swiping at his face like he was actually getting ready to get up. “Okay.”

“We gotta hurry before the balloon hits the ocean floor.”

“Okay.” He sounds more determined now, sitting up. “Let’s go.”

Then, ever the loving wife you switch up quickly. “Why are you up? Go to sleep.”

“W-what?” He blinks, eyes half closed.

“You were sleep talking. Go back to bed.” You mutter, and he blinks before nodding.

“I’m sorry. Come lay with me.”

COMMENTS:

“He was so confused lmao.”

“Mans was fighting for his life in those blinks.”

“The switch up has me dead.”

“Aw. He said sorry to you like it was his fault.”

It was rare that Jake ate McDonald’s, he was raised southern charm style and his mother hated the company. Homemade meals and southern drawls were the way to go.

That being said there were days like today, both of you sweaty and irritated, and the only choice was McDonald’s. You both had been helping your parents move, which was stressful enough before you added the drama all your siblings brought to the table.

And though Jake never wanted to talk crap about your family today he was extremely frustrated with them, mostly how they all seemed to be treating you like dirt and he could see you beginning to crumble which always upset him.

He decided that you both needed a break as your brother began biting about an antique watch your father was trying to sell, claiming it should be his, and somehow someway it became your fault and a huge fight.

So Jake took you out of the house, planning on getting you both food before you got too hangry, only to get more frustrated by the fact that the only non expensive restaurant in the area was McDonalds. And neither of you were dressed, nor had time for the other places.

So you sat in silence while you ate and he could feel the anxiety and anger easing out of both of you, and when you went to the bathroom he figured it was time to lift the mood fully.

He took the lid off your cup, stabbing the straw into the sauce cups lid and shoving it all in your drink before making sure your lid was back to normal.

He filmed the process of course, and when you come back he claims to be checking emails from work as he films you hum softly before taking a big swig of your drink only to gag.

A small laigh breaks out as you laugh yourself, panicking a bit as another gag takes over.

“Don’t puke.” He laughs, and you cover your face before taking your napkin and sliding it along your tongue.

“Absolutely not. What was that?”

“No clue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

“That was disgusting.”

COMMENTS:

“The way he laughs while she gags out a lung has me cackling!”

“Not the Micky ds drink. Those are god tier.”

“He’s kind of impressing me with the pranks.”

Monday night is spent waiting for him to come home, still cranky with your weekend with your siblings and parents, sore and just not into life in general.

You tried reading through some of the comments on your guys’ videos but those didn’t seem to help, you tried reading but the book you were reading was at a standstill and when you tried to clean the bathroom the bleach made you nauseated.

Truth be told all you wanted was Jake.

But you were his wife, which meant it was your actual job to torture him. And today you decided you would be torturing him.

You hear his truck, filming yourself filling a spoon with salt and dipping it into the soup.

When he comes in you smile. “Come taste this!”

“How about I taste you….” He growls.

“No bubs. I’m making dinner.” You huff, and he smiles before slurping the entire spoon into his mouth.

He tries, he really does, blinking slowly before his face pinches up and he gags. He practically wretches, another gag falling from his lips as he leans over the sink to try and spit it out. Running the faucet and washing his mouth out the best he can. “Oh my god bubs,”

“It was that bad?” You ask, watching him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to gag. I’m sorry bubs. I’m sorry.” He gags again, gulping down more water.

You start laughing then, practically keeling over as he keeps washing his mouth out.

“This…. This was a prank?” He sounds so betrayed that you feel a little bad laughing. “I….”

Then his face breaks into one of pure humor as he wheezes, laughing just as hard and moving closer to you until you are both wheezing in each other's faces. Just pure amusement.

“I can’t br…eathe!” You laugh and he presses his forehead to your shoulder as he holds his ribs.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Just two people wheezing in eachothers faces lmao.”

“I want what they have.”

“Is no one gonna talk about him eating her comment???? Srsly?!”

“Okay, so there is this couple on here right….” You start, staring at him. He keeps casting nervous looks to where your phone is set up to record you both. Like he was waiting for the prank.

“Yeah?”

“And they basically dressed up as eachother for this song. Like he wore her clothes and she wore his and-”

“I’m in.”

“Really? No arguing?”

“No. You’ve got that excited look in your eye and I cannot refuse.” He laughs and you can’t help but clap your hands and jump up to dash upstairs which makes him laugh and snatch the phone.

30 minutes later you both are trying to concentrate on making the video, Jake dressed in one of your dresses and barely managing to walk in the heels.

He is bent over, his hand on his knees as he laughs, the dress groaning at each movement. “I can’t…. Shit-“

You are no better, dressed in his military uniform as you try to keep standing, barely breathing as you laugh. “Who….. who said marriage would be boring?”

“My mother. On our wedding day. When she tried convince us not to get married!” He laughs at the memory, hand shooting out to catch you when you keel over from laughing.

“Okay. Okay let’s do this.” He clears his throat and stands straight. You both film the video and while you post it you begin compiling the behind the scenes which does indeed have a clip of him bending over and the dress completely ripping down the middle.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Great googly moogly.”

“His mom said what?????? Need a story time.”

“How many times did I watch this? Yes.”

- - - - - -

It’s during a shopping day when he gets the idea, after being dragged from store to store over and over again.

It was in the middle of a target when he decides to give you absolute hell, irritated by the fact that you were paying more attention to their lame bedding collections than him.

“Hey…. I’m gonna go…. Look at something.” He mutters, kissing your cheek and walking away as you hum out.

At first he shuffles through the men’s clothing section, getting nervous when a woman in lulu lemons gives him a wink as she shops for what he assumes is her husband. He dashes to the candles after that, sniffing at all of them before texting you “there’s a girl hitting on me in the candle section”.

He takes a screenshot of it for tiktok before setting up his phone to film, waiting patiently.

It takes you less than a minute, out of breath as you swing around the corner with a wild look. “Where?”

“She went that way?” He lies, pointing.

“I'm gonna kill her.” You snap, fixing your hair. “And why are you just standing in the candle section? This is where single men stand to get laid, slut.”

“What, back track-“

“It’s like the most basic rule of target.”

“There are dating rules for TARGET?!” He laughs.

“You really need to get with the program.” You laugh, smacking his butt before waltzing off.

He merely blinks at the camera in pure shock.

- - -

COMMENTS:

“Bahahahaha. I love her.”

“She came ready for a fight.”

“It is the most basic rule.”

“Girl was so stressed she didn’t even bother to smell a candle.”

- - - -

“Hey Jake?” You call, standing in the bathroom as the phone records from the counter a little hidden from sight. You keep your voice on the closer end of panicked.

You hear his phone shut off as he gets off the bed before he comes into sight with worried eyes. “What’s wrong Darlin?” He asks, reaching to rub your forehead in concern.

“I can’t get my tampon.” You mumble.

“Sorry?”

“I can’t get find my tampon.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s stuck.”

“Then pull it out.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Darlin’, doesn’t it have that like…. String?”

“It broke off. I need help.” His eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up quickly and his face going red as he blushes.

“O….okay.” He nods, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah? You can help?”

“Anythin’ you need darlin’….” He mumbles, slapping his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah.” He nods. “I….. let’s do this.”

“Okay…. Good because this was a prank.” You laugh which makes him splutter.

“Oh thank Jesus, I was gettin’ panicked there. Not because it would be gross- but like- well I don’t know what the problem would be cause it’s not like we haven’ had period sex hundreds of times but- darlin’-“

“Jake Seresin is not a feminist everyone.” You laugh to the camera as he groans out.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“He would do it. He would kill for her.”

“The way the southern accent comes out when he panics, lmao.”

- - - -

“Hey bubs! C’mere!” Jake calls, unscrewing the panel to the light from his spot on the step stool.

His phone was set up to film him as you come into the room yawning, loudly as you swipe your eyes. “Hey bubs. I just need you to grab-“

He shakes his body, making it look like he got electrocuted as you scream out, rushing forward to grab at his thighs and try to help.

“JAKE!” You scream, trying to pull him down. He starts laughing, hands covering his face as you breathe out.

“Oh. That was so…. Oh my god.”

“Oh bubs, you should have seen your face-“

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” You snap, swiping the tears off your cheeks. “Wake me up from a nap just for that you son of a b-“

“Oh darlin’ no. I’m sorry.” He sighs.

“I hate you!”

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Oh that one hurt me-“

“Someone is not getting laid tonight…. Or any night.”

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Omg. Where did they go?”

“Did they die? Why haven’t they posted?”

“I misssss them!”

“Mom…. Dad…… where are you?”

“It’s been like 3 months. Come on.”

“She probably killed him after the electric prank.”

- - - -

After 3 months of not posting you both return with a video.

Life had been busy, with both of you moving because of his deployment and you having to find another job in the new space.

But things have settled a bit, now back with his “Top Gun” crew and the house almost completely unpacked.

You had been visiting his parents, and that’s where the video takes place.

His mom and dad both had headphones over their ears blasting music, and the game is to guess what Jake is saying as you record.

“You.” Jake says, laughing a bit.

“TO!” His dad guesses.

“You.”

“TOO!”

“You.”

“YOU!” He yells and Jake nods.

“Are going.”

“Are going!”

“To be.”

“TOBY!”

“To be.”

“TOGA!”

“To be.”

“TO BE!”

“Grandparents.”

“Gray PARROTS!”

“Grandparents.”

“PIRATES?”

“Parents”

“You are going to be grandparents.”

“You are going to be godparents?”

“Oh Jesus Paul!” His mom snaps, pulling the headphones off quickly with tears in her eyes as she dashes to hug you.

“Oh!” His dad smiles. “OH MY GOD! WERE GOING TO BE GRANDPARENTS!”

When he rushes to hug you both the headphones get caught and he trips up before landing in the group hug.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“No. Freaking. Way!”

“Ugh.”

“I’m so happy for you guys!”

“Mom and dad fr fr.”

- - - - -

TAGLIST::::::

@the-romanian-is-bae @mshistorylover @boringusername3 @dingochef @quillsandtypos @sunnysidesidra @eddiemunsonreader @sinners-98-world @rhirhikingston @imaginecrushes @80pairsofcrocs @themusingofagothicsoul @mshistorylover @quillsandtypos @mallerz @dtownclown93

@f1oralf1owers @salgachode @fox-bee926 @iamthebeth @anxious-alto @tsnelf7 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @gojos-bizarre-adventure @dreamsofouterspace @xcastawayherosx @chaoticassidy @eugene-emt-roe @iamaslytherin0 @the-romanian-is-bae @lets-turn-and-burn

#jake seresin hangman #jake seresin angst #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun fluff #top gun x reader #top gun cast #top gun smut #top gun movie #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun #hangman top gun

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dangerehrenn · 4 months

Note

I hope ur good and love your writing it's so good :)

quick question tho, how do you think the boys would react to pierced nipples on their partner????

ohhh they would go crazy

the boys finding out you have nipple piercings

in this: johnny, chris, bam

suggestive content

im gonna do this with the same scenario, and different reactions

it’s a regular day, filming new overly dangerous content with the guys, and someone has the genius idea for you to do a stunt into the water.

(like steveos stunt where he vaulted into the water from the bridge or whatever it was lol).

your boyfriend has been given the task of explaining the stunt to you, and as he’s explaining, you take your hoodie off in preparation. only to realise, shit. your shirt came off with your hoodie.

as your relationship with your boyfriend is relatively new, he had no idea you had nipple piercings…

well. he does now.

johnny:

he immediately stumbles over his words as you slowly realise you’ve just flashed your boyfriend

he clears his throat, then that signature knoxville smirk covers his face

“well. i didn’t know about those” he says cheekily, pointing at your nipple piercings that youre desperately trying to cover up

he’ll tell you to move your hands so he can get a better look

which earns him a slap on the arm for being so cheeky

“i like em baby. why cover them up?” he says, chuckling

he tries to steal a few more glances, then he’ll kiss you and carry on explaining the stunt to you

for the rest of the shoot, he seems very distracted, always lost in his thoughts

you catch his eye as he smirks to himself, and he blushes slightly before smiling again.

you know exactly what he was thinking about

chris:

oh boy

now he’s had a glimpse of them, he has to see them again

now, he’s a gentleman

so he’ll help you cover up

but he quickly ushers you away from everyone else and somewhere private

“since when?” he says, giggling

you play dumb, asking him what he’s talking about

which prompts him to pretend to grab his own boobs

“your piercings, babe” he says, smirking

he asks you the regular questions, did it hurt, is it sensitive, what happens if someone has a magnet

all that stuff

for the rest of the day, he’s distracted - staring constantly

“babe, do you think i’d suit them?”

bam:

he’s a little shit

so he steals your shirt and hoodie

“move your hands and i’ll give you your shirt back” he says, smirking

if you’re adamant you’re not gonna show him, he gives you your shirt back with a sheepish apology

he disappears for a minute, then comes back in time to see you do the stunt (take what you want from this ;) )

he drops the subject for the rest of the shoot, but you can tell he’s thinking about them

afterwards when you’re relaxing, you can tell he’s still thinking about them

so flash the man and let him be happy

“jesus christ are you tryin’ to kill me?” he smirks

or just tell him he can ask the questions he has

he’s like chris, asking the usual questions

and of course

“can i touch them?” he asks with his cheeky smile

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

Text

Locked Out (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content, language, mentions of blood Word count: 4.2k

Summary: When you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, Anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.

Author's Note: Inspired by true events that involved all the frustration but none of the fun 😜 This was just an idea that rooted itself. A silly little fic outside my usual style. Thanks to @faye-tale for chatting with me while I waited for a locksmith. 😊 And thanks to @colettebronte who always has the right JB pic for the job. 💜

You knew this would happen. You had never trusted the smart lock ever since Anthony had installed it. Either some criminal masterminds would hack the whole network of them, or the battery would die and leave you precisely where you were now, standing on the stoop in the chilly air as midnight approached, the moon and your phone as your only light sources. Again you wondered what was so bad about traditional locks as your phone flashed the error message. But Anthony had to get his way, as usual. One news story about a burglar three towns away and the next day he had bought every ‘smart’ home security device on the market.

Well now the stupid lock didn’t work. The first time you had pressed the button you assumed you had tapped something wrong, given how distracted you were. Anthony was crowding against you, one hand slithering over your backside while the other moved to wrap lightly around your throat. He was breathing heavy in your ear, licking your neck with his untamable tongue, a move that always made your eyes cross a bit. But now you had tried three times to unlock the door and it clearly wasn’t working.

“Anthony…”

He just rumbled in response, biting your lobe.

“Anthony!” You nudged him back with your hips, trying to snap him out of it. “The damn lock is broken.”

“What?” Of course he then had to inspect it himself for a full five minutes, trying every trick on his phone that you had, to no avail.

You stood with your arms crossed. “Where’s the spare key?”

Even in the dim light you could see his jaw set with aggravation. “Inside.”

You scoffed, “You didn’t hide it outside like you said you would?”

“I don’t want to leave a key to our property lying around for anyone to find. This thing was supposed to be top-of-the-line.” He growled.

You couldn’t help your eyes from rolling. “Anthony, that’s why you hide it…”

“Let me try the back.” He jogged off the steps and around the house through your garden gate. You both knew full well that he had rigged your back door with the same space age lock as the front and wasn’t likely to have any success. All you wanted was to get inside, to get warm and have a glass of wine. You looked up at the glare of the full moon. That must be to blame for your misfortune.

You weren’t going to wait forever and searched the number for a 24-hour locksmith. You were just about to dial when the sound of shattering glass echoed over your lawn followed by a loud curse. Oh good lord…

Before you could even detect which side of the house it came from, Anthony stepped out of the shadows, holding a forearm aloft.

“Anthony Bridgerton, what the hell did you do?” You hissed as loud as you dared, mindful of disturbing your neighbors.

But you knew exactly what he had done when he drew closer and you could see the bloody pulp that now constituted his knuckles. More alarming was the long, jagged tear in the sleeve of his shirt through which you could see the matching slice on his skin, blood already seeping out to darken the fabric.

“Broke the side window,” he grumbled.

“And how did that work out for you, genius?”

His eyes flashed. “The damn latch is too high. I couldn’t reach it inside.”

Excellent. Now you would need to replace your window as well as hire a locksmith. Your simple date night was turning into quite the misadventure. The cold was starting to seep in. Not expecting to spend time outside, you wore only a dress and no coat. You were so tired and irked you were bordering on a tantrum. But your husband was bleeding, quite a lot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ream him out while he was injured.

“Jesus,” You huffed, taking his good arm and pulling him over to your car in the drive. Fortunately this piece of your property had a keyfob, making it your only form of shelter at the moment. “Sit down,” you ordered, opening the driver’s side door and pushing him into the seat. You crouched next to him and turned his wrist to inspect the damage. It was ugly, the whole sleeve from the elbow down stained red already.

Before you even suggested it, he tugged the cuff of his other sleeve with his teeth, slipping his whole shirt up and over his head until it hung only on his bloodied limb.

“Haven’t you ever watched movies?” You chastised as you began to wind the fabric around the gash. A gorgeous knit shirt ruined forever. “You wrap your arm with your shirt before you punch through glass.”

“Well I’m sorry for trying to solve our problem.” He snipped. You responded by pulling a tight knot, causing him to hiss.

But your frustrated energy threatened to redirect into something else entirely as you surveyed him. Even after all this time together, you went a bit speechless whenever you saw him shirtless. It really was obscene for someone to be so attractive. Broad-shouldered and muscular, with the most perfect patch of soft hair across his chest. Running your hands over him had reached the level of compulsion, beyond mere desire. Seeing as his torso was streaked with blood from his haphazardly bandaged arm, you gave in under the pretense of tending to him. You drifted your fingers up his carved abdomen and onto his chest where his movements slowed under your palm, his breaths deepening.

“I don’t have anything to clean you up with.” You were more agitated than apologetic. How fast were you going to devolve into naked, bloodied neanderthals all because you didn’t have a house key?

“It’s fine.” He laid his good hand over yours, holding it in place. You could feel the strong thrum of his heart. He knew what he was doing. Trying to dissipate your anger by turning himself into a distraction. But you wouldn’t let him. Someone had to remedy this situation.

You quirked a brow. “Should I call the paramedics or the locksmith?”

His pursed-lips look of annoyance was one you saw often and always relished. It was usually the only way he admitted you were right in a spat. Nudging him a few inches, you perched next to him on the seat.

“How long will they take?” he asked when you hung up.

“Half an hour.”

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You knew that silky edge to his voice and turned to look at him. His eyes, always dark, glinted most dangerously at night. Darkness suited him much more than daylight and even though you knew your husband was putty in your hands, one flash of those eyes made you feel like prey.

You shivered, due to him as much as the wind. “Whatever we do, I’m staying in here. It’s too cold.” You wouldn’t give in that easily. You stood and moved to walk to the passenger side but an arm curled around your waist and tugged you back onto his lap, then the door was pulled shut beside you.

“Imagine how cold I am without a shirt on.” His low voice reverberated through the enclosed space and soft lips landed on your shoulder. His arm was still banded around you, holding you tight. The devil.

You twisted to face him again, already knowing you would lose this battle. He smirked, just a glimpse of teeth in the blue glow of the fading dash lights lending fangs to your predator. Wasn’t he the wounded one? How did he gain the upper hand so quickly? You rested your hands on his chest again and knew he was lying. He was warmer than you and heating up by the second, his breath gusting over your forearms as you stared each other down. Each time you touched one another in places otherwise typically clothed, it brought out your animalistic tendencies. But seeing him like this, cast in shadow and roughed up, was causing something especially carnal to simmer inside you.

“We can turn the car on for heat.” You argued, never wanting to grant him the last word.

But then he pressed himself against you, hands spreading wide to grasp your bottom as he nuzzled his jaw against your cheek. He knew all of your buttons. One pass of his short beard across your skin and it was over.

“Mmmm…” he hummed in your ear, the baritone he reserved to devastate you. “Bad for the environment. We can keep each other warm.”

Then his tongue resumed its journey up your neck, leaving you gasping until he traced it into your waiting mouth.

Damn him. You hated and loved how easily he made you go to pieces. If you were being honest, the feelings worked in tandem. It was often when you were the most aggravated with him that you reached the highest peaks in your lovemaking. As your tongues swirled around each other, you knew this would be one of those times. But you’d have to be quick unless you wanted to put on a show for the locksmith. This was reckless, juvenile, but you didn’t care.

“I suppose you’re right.” You murmured over his lips then pushed him roughly back against the seat. His eyes lit with excitement as you maneuvered to straddle him, hiking your skirt up your thighs, kicking off your heels and underwear as you went. His splayed hands ran up to your back and crushed you to him for another hungry kiss. You moaned into one another, overcome with the rush of it all, with the risk you may be seen. As you held his jaw possessively, you wormed a hand down to the seam of his trousers.

“Do you have enough blood left to power this thing?” You smirked, nipping at his lower lip.

“See for yourself,” came the husky reply. Pressing down, you felt the bulge and rocked your palm against it. His responding noise caused a familiar jolt of desire to shoot through your every cell. You knew you were already soaking, aching and ready for him. In a flurry, the two of you fought off his belt and buttons and shoved his clothes down his thighs until his cock sprang free, rigid and hot in your hand. Positioning yourself, you swiped the head across your entrance, gathering the slick then swirling it around your throbbing clit. Anthony groaned, biting his lip and gripping you tight by the hips as you lined up and sank down onto him, your cry seeming all the louder in the small, insulated cab.

There was a reason you had given him the private nickname ‘Logsplitter’. Getting far too candid over too many drinks one night, you had told him how fantastically split open he made you feel. Had described that meniscus seal between pain and pleasure and how his body drove yours to it perfectly and kept you dancing upon it until it fractured and plunged you into liquid bliss. The next day you had been mortified but he eased your anxieties by making it the most enduring joke in your relationship. The bastard had even woven it into his wedding speech, announcing that he would still find joy in life’s mundane tasks with you, whether it be laundry, dishes, or log splitting. Public mentions of it sent heat rushing to your cheeks, but in practice behind closed doors it sent heat rocketing under every inch of your skin. He was so stiff and formidable, stretching you so splendidly. You began to move so that you could savor every inch.

Planting your hands on his shoulders for leverage you began to ride him at a steady clip, reminding yourself that you couldn’t dally. His fingers pressed deeper into your hips as his breath turned staccato with whispered curses. You gave a passing thought to the fact that his injured arm was probably streaking blood across your dress, but thankfully it was black and therefore might be saved.

As much as you were enjoying yourself, this was still a ridiculous situation. Bleeding and rutting in the driver’s seat of your car like you were criminal lovers on the lam and not just idiots who hadn’t kept a spare key to the house. And you were on a timeline. Fueled by a potent blend of frustration and arousal you began to move faster, pistoning on your knees as the leather squeaked. There wasn’t much extra space on the seat for your legs and your increased pace made you slip, pitching forward as one shin fell off the side.

Anthony caught you, hands moving up to your ribs as he chuckled. “Woah. Do I need to strap you in, baby girl?”

You could have slapped him. He only used that name for you when he really wanted to get you riled. Clearly he was enjoying your little tryst, finding the fun in this mess that he caused. You’d like to see him try and fuck you in the front seat. Glaring, you stepped on the recline controls and he stuttered in surprise as he sank backward until he was supine beneath you. Steadying yourself again you doubled your efforts, riding him hard as you held him pinned at the chest.

“You’re enjoying this too fucking much.” You ground out.

“What?” He played the innocent.

“We could be inside,” You panted, every word bouncing with your movements. “In bed. Uninjured. If you had just hidden the key…” Your breath caught as you tilted your hips and felt him strike against the deepest part of you, a twinge that increased your ache. “...and not changed the stupid locks.”

“So this is my fault?” His voice was all seduction, no remorse to be found. His eyes, what little you could see of them, gazed up at you as a hand moved to knead your breast.

“Yes.” You moaned, starting to climb the ladder as his fingers and his cock simultaneously found all the right spots to make you mindless.

“And you’re mad at me?”

“So fucking mad.” You gasped, leaning forward into his palm and angling yourself just so, feeling the ridge of him deep inside start to massage your center of sensation.

He craned his neck to ghost his lips over yours and whispered, “How can I apologize?”

Then his hand moved below your skirt and his fingertips found your clit. Pierced with sensation, you screamed some garbled syllables of his name.

He chuckled, warm and dark. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

Oh, he was awful. Driving you to delirium even when you were the one on top. You had found your rhythm, rolling your hips to sink him perfectly into place over and over. Coupled with the press of his circling fingers, you were shooting up the ladder, your blood beginning to hum with anticipation. Maybe you could pull this off in time after all.

“Fuck you…” you hissed.

“You certainly are.”

“Anthony, shut up!” You clamped a hand over his mouth, bringing the other to claw into his shoulder. You had assumed Anthony Bridgerton, man of refined tastes, would have found this all as debased as you did, but he was evidently having the time of his life. Maybe the laugh riot was precisely because he knew you were so flustered, which just made you angrier. But the anger was consigned to your mind only, as your body delighted in him. Warm and firm beneath your palms, he started to move with you, thrusting ever so slightly while his mangled hand pulled you down at the hip, slamming your bodies together as tight as he could on your every descent. His fingers swirled faster, just where you needed them, and soon enough you reached the top rungs, everything surging within.

Anthony mumbled something against your fingers, his breath hot and short, matching yours as you hovered over him. You released him, your mind too clouded with pleasure to fight him anymore. Your thighs began to quake while the rest of you started to tense.

“It feels like you’re about to forgive me.” He purred, and all you could do was whine, squeezing your eyes shut as your hips bucked against him desperately. “Come on then,” he coaxed. “I think I’ve earned it.”

One more thrust and circle of his fingers and you peaked, crying out as your nails sank into the flesh of his shoulder and your other hand scrabbled for purchase in his thick hair. Release radiated out from the epicenter of his touch, spasms clenching around his cock which now felt impossibly huge, fanning out through every muscle. You writhed, circling your pelvis against his as you rode it out and moaned.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he growled from the darkness. “That’s my girl.”

Gasping, you collapsed on top of him, basking in the warmth of his bare skin and the caresses of his hands across your back as aftershocks curled your spine. As you floated, you trailed your fingers into his chest hair. You contemplated extending your forgiveness verbally too, but when you propped up to look at him you saw a flash of headlights through the back window. A truck was turning down your street.

You cursed under your breath and glanced a kiss across Anthony’s lips before pulling yourself off of him and opening the door, stumbling out into the driveway, your mind still swimming. You tugged your skirt down and tried to smooth your hair as Anthony scrambled to hitch his clothes back over his stark erection.

“Stay here,” you cautioned and closed the door.

The truck was indeed the locksmith, a very beatific fellow named Lumley. He didn’t cast any judgment as you explained your situation. He professed to having seen it all and you believed him. But you might have been added to his list of unusual encounters after he deftly popped the door lock and let you in to turn on your lights. That’s when his eyes widened and he asked if you were alright. You looked down and realized he was gesturing to the blood streaks on your exposed arms. The way he fixated on your chin, you suspected you had a streak there too.

You laughed to calm him, explaining that your husband had cut his hand (you elected not to tell him how) and that you were both perfectly fine and would clean up now that you could get inside. A little shaken, he politely wrapped up your transaction and drove away. You were too relieved to be embarrassed and went to collect Anthony from the car.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” You swung the door open to find him still reclined. His trousers were back on thankfully, but he was slumped, eyes closed, cradling his raggedly wrapped arm. “Anthony?” You put a hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

He blinked his eyes open and looked at you blearily. “Feeling a bit woozy.” He mumbled.

Fantastic. Not only had he lost blood, he had sent whatever remained shooting down to his cock and now there was none left in his brain. You didn’t think you were strong enough to carry him indoors if he collapsed, but you wouldn’t leave him in the damned car any longer. Tugging him by his good arm to slowly stand, you then draped it over your shoulders and steered him inside. He could walk just fine even if his head was drooping a bit.

You kicked the door closed behind you and walked to the sofa, easing him onto it.

“Aright, sit down. I’m going to get the first aid kit.”

You turned but were immediately halted by a hand around your wrist.

“There’s only one thing that’s going to make me feel better.”

The next you knew, you were on your back on the sofa, Anthony pressing you down as his lips consumed yours. He vocalized his want down your throat as his beard rasped against you. What happened to woozy? Maybe being horizontal was the only way he could function at the moment. He rocked his hips between yours, his unsatisfied stiffness insistently seeking entry. Within seconds you were ignited again, helpless against the weight of him, the taste of him, the smell of him.

“Anthony, if you stain the couch too, I swear…” You mumbled as he sucked at your neck. Tallying the cleanup that remained between the shattered window and your ruined clothes, you would not sacrifice your plush upholstery too. Reaching behind your head, you dragged the throw blanket from the arm of the sofa and quickly bunched it under his blood soaked shirt bandage. He didn’t seem to have heard you, or perhaps he just didn’t care, as he balanced on that elbow and used his other hand to tear open his trouser buttons. You lifted your skirt and helped him, as eager for this as he was.

You groaned in stereo as he sank into you once again, the sensation more overwhelming now that he was on top of you. His tongue dove into your mouth as well, the most delicious parts of him penetrating you as deeply as they could simultaneously. Vanilla as this position may have been in comparison, you loved it. Being completely underneath him, crushed, consumed and controlled by him. You had taken your pleasure and now you wanted to be a ragdoll in his arms. You didn’t know if your desires were romantic or perverse, but you didn’t care. The feeling of being filled and surrounded by the man you loved made you wildly aroused.

With no pretense, Anthony went to work pummeling you, chasing his release as urgently and selfishly as you had chased yours. You opened your legs wide, locking your ankles around his back and letting him plough even deeper. You still found this entire ordeal comical, but the man deserved some relief. In the span of an hour he had been chastised, injured, exposed and now blue-balled. This was his only reprieve until you had to undertake the ghastly business of dealing with his wound. And he was bringing pleasure to more than just himself. Predictably, his every thrust teased your clit, his sizable cock pulling all of you so tight that every feeling was heightened. While he panted harsh in your ear, you ran your nails down his rippled back and pert bum, leveraging with your wrapped legs to push up into him, the two of you grinding into one another as you whispered encouragements.

He was splitting you, sending you back to that place where all of your focus zoned in on the feeling of him inside, the relentless pounding of his body into yours that promised to quell every need of your flesh. Your whispered filth turned into small cries and then into silence as he drove harder and harder, his movements frenzied as he started to growl, pushing for the finish. All you could do was hold on as your whole body shifted beneath him, wearing tracks into the upholstery under your shoulders. You held your breath as your mouth fell open, unfailingly stunned at how he could propel you to the edge so easily. He shifted to look down at you. His hair was growing damp with sweat, a chestnut curl falling beautifully across his forehead. His dark eyes locked into yours, molten. You could read it in each other’s faces - you would come undone together.

Sparing Anthony the balancing act, you brought your hand between your legs and in seconds were breaking, tossing your head back as you succumbed. While the rest of you trembled, you clung to him with your limbs, luxuriating in all the hallmarks of his orgasm, triggered by your own. The way his back arched under your hands as his hips stuttered between your thighs. You loved how his whole body went rigid just before you felt the pulsing inside. He made the most beautiful gasping sound, so contrasted with his animalistic growls leading up to it, his mouth hanging open against your cheek, hot breath stirring your hair.

Absorbing each other’s tremors, he melted into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck and going full dead weight. You tightened your hold around him before he rolled onto the floor. You wound a hand into his hair, tracing patterns across his scalp as you both caught your breath. You looked over at his maimed arm and grimaced. It was a bloody mess. How he had been in the mood for not one, but two romps without a single complaint about an open laceration was a level of stubbornness and libido possessed only by Anthony Bridgerton. Now playtime was over. You had to be adults and handle this.

You kissed the top of his head. “Anthony.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even grunt in acknowledgement.

You felt a stab of alarm and shook him lightly. “Anthony?”

Then he groaned, nuzzling closer into you. “I think you’re right,” he slurred against your neck. “I need stitches.”

You rolled your eyes but rubbed his back reassuringly. It appeared the adventures of the evening would continue. You just hoped he could still stumble back to the car.

“Okay. I’ll get you another shirt and then drive you to the hospital. And we are taking the spare key with us.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton smut #female reader #smut #whump #modern au #bridgerton smut

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kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

Throwback to the very first thing i requested from u bc i think it’s been over a month HAHAHA

For ‘i’m stuck with you’ (art student x stem student miggy) EXCEEEPPPTTT make the reader a english/langlit major, or just really good at writing (bc i love my writers)

Okay, we have established that reader is fucking terrible at math (i am them, they are me)

But how about miguel needing help with essays? Because sci students are lowkey kinda bad with essays

Cause yeah, even though i hc that miggy probably has really, really good grammar, when writing essays? Nah, that mf is all over the place.

Like he has the ideas, but he lacks the creativity and writing skill to get them onto paper

(Not a request, but write it if u want to :D)

SHIEEEEEETTTTTT i am forever in love with college miggy <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i'm stuck with you. — miguel o'hhara x reader pt. 2 (college dorm mates au)

summary: it should come as no surprise to anybody that miguel o'hara was extremely good at running his mouth off and pretentious when it came to grammar and spelling... but making him write an opinionated essay, or a book report? oh, you're stumping him. luckily for him, he has a super adorable, english-smart dorm mate; unluckily for him, however, you can't put up with his annoying, whiny ass about how "boring" all this writing seems to be.

pairing: college!dorm mate!miguel o'hara x college!dorm mate!reader

genre: fluff <333

word count: 965

author's note: when is it my turn to have a cocky, math and science smarts stem boyfriend that sucks ass at creative writing ,,, i'm alr the writer gf, universe, ano ba 😭😭😭

he stared at the flashing cursor on the document he was supposed to be writing his book report for the english class he had to take. he sighed and folded his arms over his chest in frustration, his eyebrows crinkling as all he could do was sigh again at the lack of ideas swirling in his head. "this is why i took genetics, nobody needs to write reflections on alleles or why DNA is shaped as a double helix... this is idiotic." he muttered under his breath as he forcefully hit the backspace key repeatedly and sighed for the third time.

you soon arrived back to your dorm after attending all your classes for the day and was surprised to witness your so-called "genius" dorm mate slump over his desk, his forehead pressed down against the surface as his laptop remained open and the document remained empty–even emptier than before, actually. you walked over to miguel, half concerned and half unfazed, ironically. you had yearned to see the day when his ego would break, but unfortunately, you weren't there to see the fall–hence you drew barely any enjoyment out of seeing him all stumped.

"hey, genius, what's wrong?" you asked him in a partially sarcastic and partially worried voice, with miguel groaning as he thumped his forehead lightly against the surface of his desk. "words are hard." he muttered. you raised an eyebrow at him and chuckled lightly. "words are hard? wow, and you can piece together a bunch of letters and greek symbols together... either you're speaking an alien language of incomprehensible numbers, or you're just good at everything but linguistics." "the latter." miguel mumbled all muffled and groan again.

you chuckled and moved closer to him, practically hovering over him as you looked at the very blank document before you. "what's this supposed to be?" "an... essay." "an essay has words, you realize that, right?" you asked him sarcastically with a smile. he scowled at you as he sat up a bit from his computer chair. "it's... it's loading." "nah, i know exactly when words are loading, i'm around documents a lot–you've got nothing on it." you pointed out with a snicker as miguel rolled his eyes.

"well, if you're so good at this, why not you do it?" he asked you with narrowed eyes. you rolled your eyes and placed your arms over his shoulders, bringing your fingertips to the keyboard to type for him. you were in such close proximity to miguel that he couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of your forearms brushing against his shoulders and neck occasionally, and the scent of your perfume filling his nose. he felt a bit flustered at the feeling and scents he was picking up from you.

you tilted your head slightly. "what is it, mig? care to tell me what your essay's supposed to be about?" you asked him, snapping him out of his trance as he pushed his glasses back up on his face and cleared his throat. "it's about... my thoughts around my favorite person. i know, pretty rudimentary, it's a question for a first grader. but the problem is... i can't even begin to describe that 'favorite person' of mine. the thoughts are pouring in, the words just... don't come as fluidly." miguel admitted as he shrugged.

that was no problem for you, however–you had the ability to come up with the most effective and creative ways to write feelings, thoughts, and ideas out with ease; you were just the person miguel needed. you articulated his thoughts out on the virtual document for him, listening to him patiently describe his favorite person in such layman terms; and you, with your very eloquent and unique way of delivering his scrambled thoughts, wrote him a 7 page essay in that one sitting. all he did was open and close his mouth, speak in such simple terms to describe his favorite person–stuttering, stammering, repeating words involuntarily due to his limited vocabulary for adjectives that could properly describe that person, expanded by your own broad vocabulary aiding him in drawing a picture of this favorite person of his that... felt familiarly unfamiliar, in an uncanny way.

you two finished the joint work you were doing, and miguel's mouth hung open in surprise at how quickly you could type and how you never repeated a single adjective to describe his favorite person–and especially at how long the work you wrote was. "no... way." he muttered aloud as he rolled the mouse's cursor all the way down to the seventh page, his eyes bulging from their sockets as he took in every word you wrote for him. "my professor's not gonna believe i wrote this." he gushed as you chuckled. "is it that bad?" you asked him with a shy smile as he looked at you in disbelief.

"bad? this is spectacular, beyond everything i ever expected–thank you." he expressed his thanks to you as you smiled wider and shrugged. "dunno, i... think i could've elaborated more on paragraph–" "oh, please, if you elaborate any more, my professor's got fail me on the spot, they'll know i didn't write it by then. it's beautiful, it... really encompasses how i feel about my favorite person. thank you..." he said as he grinned up at you brightly. you had witnessed a side of miguel that no one had ever seen before... a grateful side to the cocky, arrogant genius of this college; and you swore, that from the corner of your eye... a hint of a genuinely happy, adoring miguel was staring back at you through those hazel brown orbs of his that peered into the deep recesses and depths of his soul, of his heart.... have you finally figured out who his favorite person is?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @melovetitties @arachnoia @luvstarrstruck @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @simsrandomstuff @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0

©kairiscorner (don't steal my work, i'll steal your kneecaps !)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv fluff #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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cegantheayugipi · 1 year

Text

"I Aced the Fatui Typewriter Exam" (Childe x Reader)

A Childe Enemies to Lovers Smut Oneshot

Link to the Artist

Summary: Your sparring partner, Childe, ended up breaking your arm in your most recent fight... now, this wouldn't be an issue if you weren't an author who desperately needed to finish a manuscript by tomorrow... However, you come up with a creative but ambitious solution that seems to work a little too well, and not in the way you want...

Word Count: 10.0k

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI!!! BIG SMUT BELOW THE CUT!!

Tags include: hate sex, childe having very many disgusting kinks, violence, injury, waterworks

“I’m sorry.” You choked for a moment as you found your voice, “I have to WHAT?!”

Your exclamation rang through Bubu Pharmacy as you gawked at the poor Pharmacist, your voice so loud that any passerby outside could hear.

“You have to rest your arm for at least a week.” Baizhu shook his head. “Your Ulna is fractured, and it will not heal right if you keep treating your body like you have nine lives. I strongly suggest you stop your sparring sessions with that Harbinger you despise so dearly.”

“That fucking ASSHOLE!” You cursed, seething in place as Baizhu finished wrapping up your arm with bandages.

“Now, be quiet. There are children here, and I don’t like you using curses around them.” Baizhu spoke sternly yet smoothly, flashing you a smile. The two of you had grown close over the years, especially since your knack for danger ended you up at this very pharmacy all too often, so neither of you took each others’ antics to heart.

“But Baizhu,” you groaned, “I have a manuscript to send off tomorrow! Lady Guuji is going to have my head if I’m late again!”

“There is no way you can write or type with your dominant hand broken,” Baizhu responded flatly. “Perhaps, next time you will reevaluate the priority of your sparring sessions, since it seems like every time you have one, you end up in my care.”

“Baizhu, I’m serious! What do I do about this deadline?!” You groaned.

“Well, if it were me, I’d try to find a proxy who can write for you.” Baizhu shrugged as he handed you a small parcel of medicine for you to take.

“Baizhu, you know what kind of literature I write, I can’t just…” You trailed off for a moment as a brilliant idea came to you.

“Actually, you’re a fucking genius. I love you.”

You stood up and immediately stalked towards the door.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine!” Baizhu called after you.

Now that you were finally gone, the Pharmacist let out a worried sigh.

“The broken lady is always too noisy.” Qiqi peeked her head around the corner of the countertop, where she had been hiding from you this entire time.

“Yes, she is.” Baizhu sighed.

“What does fucking asshole mean?”

The curses coming from the small child’s mouth shocked Baizhu.

“QIQI!” he exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “That is not a word you can say!”

“Fucking asshole…”

“NO, QIQI!”

~~~

“Miss L/N, Sir Tartaglia is busy at the moment. I can pass on a message to him if it’s urgent.” Ekaterina spoke as the two of you stood in the lobby of Northland Bank.

“Urgent, my ass! That rat bastard owes me, his work can wait!” You seethed, storming around the poor receptionist as you made your own way to his office. Somehow, you remembered the way to his office from the odd couple of times you had visited him at work.

“W-wait, he’s really behind on paperwork! Please let him catch up!” Ekaterina shouted after you, but you paid no mind as you continued down the hall.

The corridors were winding, dimly lit, and confusing, but you confidently swung open a door, knowing that this was certainly Childe’s office.

“*insert Fatui voice line here*”

You blinked, realizing you had opened the door to a janitor’s closet, and that a Fatui Anemoboxer was pinning an Agent to the wall inside. The two froze, turning their heads towards you, and you quickly slammed the door shut.

“I suggest you lock the door, idiots!” You shouted angrily.

So, that wasn’t Childe’s office. Which one was his, again?

You squinted as you stared down the corridor, realizing that Childe’s office was actually across from the closet from the plaque on the door with the name “Tartaglia” carved into it.

WIth absolutely zero respect for the Harbinger who broke your arm, you kicked the door open to see the ginger sitting at his desk surrounded by stack upon stack of papers. He seemed unsurprised that you had barged in so violently, considering the door slamming and shouting that happened only seconds prior.

“You sure know how to make an entrance.” He spoke flatly. “Are you paying for my door repair?”

“Do your fingers work?”

“Huh?” Childe seemed confused.

“I’m asking you. Can you use all ten fingers?”

“Depends how you want me to use them.” He smirked cheekily, leaning back in his chair.

“Ew, you disgusting bastard. I’m asking if you can type.” You stormed towards his desk, tempted to swipe all his stacks of papers onto the floor. “Unless your fingers are as dumb as that empty head of yours.”

“I got a top score on the Fatui typewriter exam, I’ll have you know.” Childe crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I bet I can type faster than you.”

“Hah.” You laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh yeah?” Childe smirked. “I could do it right now.”

“You could?” You smirked. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“It’s a contest, then.” Childe spoke confidently.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smirked.

“Huh?” the ginger became confused again.

“I have a manuscript due tomorrow and SOMEONE has rendered me unable to type or write. So, you’re coming with me.”

“W-wait, I have a lot of paperwork to do-”

“Your paperwork can wait one more day. I have a deadline and a publisher who is demanding I start sending out drafts on time.”

You walked around the desk, grabbing Childe’s arm with your unbroken one and dragging him out of his chair. The ginger stumbled behind you, unsure about what you had in store for him.

“Morax on a stick, your arms are scrawny as hell.” You scoffed, continuing to drag him behind you.

“These arms can still beat you in a fight.” Childe retorted.

“I’d watch my mouth if I was you.” Rolling your eyes, you dragged Childe through the lobby of Northland Bank towards the main entrance.

“Miss L/N, Sir Tartaglia, wait!” Ekaterina exclaimed as she tried to call after you. However, the two of you were already on your way out the door.

~~~

“So… What do I do again?” Childe spoke, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You had made him sit down at your desk, in front of your typewriter, a page half-filled with the guide already positioned at the next empty line on the page. You stood behind the Harbinger, staring down at his messy head of hair as you pointed to the machine.

“I dictate, you type.” You spoke bluntly. “If you mess up even one letter, I’ll break your nose.”

“Okay…” Childe suddenly felt extremely nervous. He had last done this test when he was eighteen, which was several years ago. However, he knew he couldn’t give up here, since he had to carry through with his bet to prevent him from seeming like a coward.

“Alright? The page is already half done. Just write what I say.”

“Got it…” Childe trailed off, positioning his hands over the keys.

“You never realized how the Knight felt for you until-”

“Wait, why is it in second person?” Childe questioned.

“Shut up and type.” You responded. “I’ll start again.”

“O-okay.”

“You never realized how the Knight felt for you until you felt his soft embrace, period. You thought he was merely a noble man who was courteous to everyone, comma, but this was more than just that, period. This was desire, period.”

Childe’s hands flew across the keys, typing out the sentence with speed and accuracy that actually surprised you. When Childe reached the end of the line his hand flew up and fluidly swiped the carriage return lever to start a new line without any hesitation. Only a couple of seconds after you had finished speaking, the sentence was written out in perfect spelling and punctuation.

“Wow, you can actually type pretty fast.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want that sentence included.”

“Yup.” Mildly impressed, you continued to dictate the story.

“...as your lips daintily interlocked with his, comma, you could feel the tender passion the Knight radiated, period. His arms gently caressed your back and pulled you closer to him, period.”

Childe didn’t know how to feel about typing this sort of story out for you, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to win the competition and prove he was better at typing than you. So, he ignored what you were saying and instead focused on getting the letters typed onto the page.

“His hands moved dexterously as he unlaced your bodice-”

“Uhm.” Childe cut in, his hands pausing over the keys.

“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if this kind of story would be too much for Childe to type calmly.

“How do you spell dexterously?”

You rolled your eyes, realizing it was a mere spelling issue.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I think that’s a couple too many letters for one word.” Childe responded cheekily.

“D-E-X-T-E-R-O-U-S-L-Y” You spelled out quickly, and Childe immediately finished the rest of the sentence afterwards.

“Okay, continue.” He responded, still determined to win at whatever this competition was turning into.

A couple minutes later, and the story had progressed even further.

“You stared up at his toned body, comma, admiring the way his muscles flexed as he moved, period. Line break.”

Childe grew uneasy as he finished the sentence and set a new line on the typewriter, the satisfying “clunk” of the metal sliding into place acting as a signal for you to continue.

“Open quote. Are you willing to submit fully to me, to give me everything, question mark, close quote.”

Childe shifted in his seat, realizing exactly where this story was going as his hands continued to fly over the keys and type perfect words. He tried to block out how the language you used seemed to only grow more and more lewd.

“You gasped as you felt him breach you, comma, laying kisses over you as he penetrated you with his manhood, period.”

Childe hoped the blush on his cheeks wasn’t obvious to you.

“How can you publish something like this knowing that people are going to read it?” Childe murmured.

“No talking, typewriter. And I’m no idiot. I use a pen name.”

You switched back to dictating your story as it progressed.

“You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your mouth as his cock pounded into your sopping cunt-”

Childe choked, his hands faltering over the keys in response to what you had just said.

“Do I need to say it again? You couldn’t help the moans tha-”

“Are you getting off to the fact that you’re making me type this?” Childe questioned in disbelief.

“Hah. You wish.” You stepped around the chair, standing next to where the Harbinger sat. “You shouldn’t be the one to talk when you’re hard yourself.”

“Wh-”

Childe froze in place as you lifted up your foot and placed it down on the outline of his dick that strained against his pants. Your slipper dug into the fabric, and Childe had to use every ounce of strength in his body to suppress a groan from the painful pleasure.

“Now, continue.” You instructed, “He grabbed the underside of your thighs, comma, fingers digging into your soft flesh, comma, pinning down your legs so he could pound into you at a better angle, period.”

Childe’s fingers moved a lot slower than before, now that your foot was digging painfully into his erection.

“Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt him reach deeper and deeper inside of you, comma, pushing you closer and closer to your-”

You stopped as you realized Childe had finally made a mistake.

“You fucking rat bastard!” You exclaimed, pushing the chair backwards. “You made a mistake!”

“I’m sorry, it’s hard to pay attention to what I’m typing when you’re stepping on my-”

It’s hard to resist the temptation to break your damn nose!”

“Oh yeah? I can always break your other arm.”

“Then I’d just use my legs.”

You pushed the chair over, making Childe fall backwards onto the floor. Your foot remained pressed against his crotch, but Childe quickly solved the issue by pulling you down to the ground on top of him. You caught yourself on your hands and knees – which made you end up straddling his body.

“How about you stop writing such disgusting literature, you dirty minded freak.”

“Says the one who’s hard as a rock!”

“I’d bet my position as Eleventh Harbinger that you’re wet right now.” Childe smirked, slipping one hand down your stomach to the front of your waistband.

“Don’t touch me, you disgusting bastard.” You spat, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them on either side of his head, ignoring the sharp pain that went down your broken arm.

Childe merely responded by rutting his hips upward, forcing you to sharply inhale as his erection pressed against your clothed but sensitive pussy. You tried your hardest to ignore the jolt of pleasure his movement sent through your body as you leaned back up, sitting down aggressively and forcing Childe’s hips back onto the floor – and painfully crushing his erection in the process.

Childe felt like he was going insane; his dick ached so badly, his lower back hurt where you forced it to dig into the back of your chair, and you stared down at him with abject hatred as you pinned his arms down…

This should be considered sexual torture – so why did he enjoy it?

“You’re gonna get up and finish the story.” You spat as you seethed with a deadly mixture of anger and arousal.

“I propose we take a break for now.”

“A break? Hah.” You shook your head at the disobedient Harbinger. “The smut has barely started.”

“Calling it smut, huh?” Childe smirked. “Just as disgusting as the word sounds.”

“You’re the disgusting one here.” You scoffed. “I can feel your dick twitching in your pants.”

“I’m not the only one, that’s for sure.” Childe smirked. “How do you even come up with stories like that?”

“I won’t reveal my methods to anyone. I have a bit of a monopoly on the market for these kinds of novels, which is why Yae is trying to squeeze every last ounce of talent from me.”

“Talent?” Childe scoffed. “I’d call it having a dirty mind.”

“I can show you dirty.” You smirked.

“Not if I show you first.” Childe gave you a devilish grin as he bucked his hips, throwing you off of him and flipping you over to pin you down on the ground. He held your good hand down with one of his, leaving your broken arm alone as his other hand roamed down your torso.

“Ugh, why does everything have to be a competition with you and your stupid-” Your words fell short as his hand slipped into your pants, fingers invading your underwear and raking along your lower lips.

“Ngh- Stop it!” You writhed beneath the ginger, trying to suppress the pleasure you felt from being violated by him.

“As I expected.” Childe smirked. “You’re disgustingly wet.

“Shut up, you ass- hnn-” Your eyes pinched together as Childe slipped two fingers into you without warning, stretching your entrance with the sudden intrusion.

“Wow, look at you taking in my fingers like a needy whore.”

“Stop it! You’re hurting m-” You gasped as he curled his fingers inside of you, the pads of his fingertips pressing into the all-too sensitive spot at your core. You blinked your eyes hard, trying to prevent them from rolling back in your head; you refused to show him that he was driving you insane as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“Look at you, all worked up from only two fingers.” Childe teased.

“Grr, shut up and take them out of me!” You shouted, Finally giving in and using your broken arm again.

You swung your arm up, hand curled into a fist, to lay a weak and off-balance punch to the Harbinger’s nose.

“Gah!” Childe exclaimed, recoiling as he pulled his fingers out of you and leaned backward. He quickly recovered, returning to his teasing tone. “You’re gonna have to hit me harder than that if you wanna break my nose-”

Since Childe was leaning back, you finally had the room to raise one leg and kick hm in the face. He careened backwards, landing on his back across the room.

“Ngh!”

“If I can’t use my arms, I’ll just use my legs.” You smirked as you climbed to your feet.

“Hahhh, good one.” Childe groaned in pain. “Guess I’ll have to break those too.”

“Not if I break yours first.” You retorted, walking over and resting a knee on his dick.

“AAH!” Childe exclaimed, his eyes going wide from the intense pain of your weight on his erection. He tried to throw you off of him, but you quickly used your other leg to reach up and pin down one arm while using your good arm to pin down the other.

“I can’t believe how much you underestimate me.” You scoffed, staring down at the ginger with displeasure.

“The only thing I underestimated was how damn dirty you are.” Childe retorted, but you reached up with your broken arm to squeeze the column of his neck. You had just enough grip strength to cut off his airway, making his face turn red.

At first, Childe seemed to let you choke him, but as the seconds ticked by and it seemed more and more likely that you weren’t planning to let him breathe, his eyes went wide as he began to panic. He started to struggle harder against you, his movements becoming more and more desperate, but you maintained the upper hand since it was too painful for him to fight against the pressure on his erection.

Childe was about to resort to more aggressive methods as you finally relaxed your grip, allowing him to gasp as he finally took in air.

“You bitch.” Childe choked out, staring at you with hatred.

“Actually, I prefer it when you don’t speak.” You replied, quickly tightening your hand around his neck again.

Almost immediately, Childe began to struggle again, terrified that you weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. His mouth opened as if to speak, but no sound emerged.

He’d have to actually fight to breathe.

Summoning the arcane power he reserved for only the direst of moments in battle, something in his pocket began to glow purple, as sparks of Electro began to arc across his body. He immediately channeled the energy through you in a short burst, the power too finicky to avoid causing serious harm.

You recoiled with a shrill scream as you felt the painful currents run down your limbs. The purple arcs of electricity danced across your skin, setting your nerves on fire. Childe wasted no time in overpowering you as soon as your hand left his neck. He grabbed your waist, bringing you down to the ground as he rolled on top of you and pressed your back into the hard floorboards.

“Unfair!” You gasped, head dizzy from the sudden change in position and skin tingling from the electrocution.

“Oh, please.” The ginger smirked as he reached one hand down, tearing your pants open and then ripping your underwear clean off of you to give him access to your core.

“Ngh, these clothes are expensive, you asshole!” You exclaimed furiously, kicking your legs out in a futile attempt to get him to move – he was hovering too close over your body, giving you no room for you to kick him off of you.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before getting me to write your porn.” Childe sneered, fingers brushing over your soaked folds. He let out a small spark of electro directly onto your clit, the jolt of electricity making your back arch from both pain and pleasure.

“Haahhh, stop!” You writhed, going insane from how much he was teasing you.

“Your soaking pussy says otherwise.” Childe smirked as he began to crawl backwards, his hands moving down to hold onto your thighs.

“That’s not what it-” you were cut off as he forced your legs open, diving his face into your wet heat. “Hey!”

You gasped as you felt his nose press against your overly-sensitive clit, his tongue pushing into your swollen entrance and sending pleasure shooting up your abdomen.

You hated the way he consistently crossed every single one of your boundaries – you hated the way he always managed to find a way to drive you insane… but what you hated the most was the fact you liked it.

You suppress a moan, trying to move your thighs to push him away. However, they were growing shaky, a part of you beginning to fall into the pleasure.

“Ngh, stop…” You reached down with your good hand and grabbed a fistful of his hair, trying to yank him away from you.

Childe merely grunted, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pressed his tongue further into you. You blinked away the pleasure that clouded your vision as he nipped and sucked at your sensitive lips. The wet heat of his mouth threatened to overwhelm you, but you persisted.

“Get off of me, you bastard…” You groaned, but your grip on his hair began to weaken as your arm grew shaky.

Childe raised his head slowly, his gaze filled with lust as he stared up at your face. You noticed the strings of slick that clung to his mouth and chin, a wave of pleasure suddenly flashing in your stomach at the sight – why was it so hot?

“You even taste like a slut,” Childe spoke lowly, crawling forwards to mash his lips into yours.

Your eyes widened as his lips meshed with yours. You whined into the kiss, hating the way his lips felt so good. You fought against him for a moment, tearing at his lips with your teeth, but a hand went up to your jaw in an attempt to force it open. Your jaw was strong, and you resisted for a moment, but as his grip became more and more painful you finally relented and let his tongue in. The salty sweet musk and slippery texture of your own arousal filled your mouth, filling you with a lethal mixture of pleasure and indignation at Childe’s blatant invasion of your boundaries. He pulled back for a moment, breaking away from your messy lips to spit directly into your mouth. You were caught off guard by the salacious mixture of your wetness and his saliva that suddenly splattered onto your lips.

“Hey- mmmph!” Your complaint was muffled by his lips on yours.

You groaned against the kiss, furious at the damned Harbinger for spitting in your mouth and driving you crazy, but also craving more. You tried to bite down on his lips, to draw blood in any way, but he was faster than you – he broke away from the kiss before you could hurt him.

“Asshole.”

Childe smirked.

“Please. You like it.”

The Harbinger rolled his hips forward, pressing against your wet heat, teasing your oh-so sensitive lips with his clothed erection. The friction against your bare skin made you groan, but you weren’t about to let him get away with humiliating you.

Reaching your good arm up, you gave a harsh tug to his coat, snapping off the clasps in the front and revealing his red shirt underneath.

“Excuse me!” Childe complained, watching the metal clasps clatter to the ground, pushing himself up onto his knees as he looked down at his broken coat.

“You ruined my clothes, it’s only fair I ruin yours.” You snarled, sitting up and grabbing onto his chest harness. With an aggressive twist, you brought him down to the floor again, quickly shuffling to pin his torso down with one knee while you slid your hand down his chest.

“Now that’s fair enou- aah!”

The ginger was interrupted by your hand harshly tugging at his belt, undoing the buckle and yanking the waistband down harshly. With the sound of his Hydro vision clattering to the floor and seams ripping, you had freed his painfully hard cock at the cost of his pants.

Childe let out something halfway between a grunt and a whine as his member slapped against his stomach. The tip gleamed with precum, evidence of just how turned on he had been.

“You’ve been making a mess in your pants, I see.” You smirked, fingers ghosting over the length of his dick as your thumb wiped across the wet droplet that had collected on his tip.

“You didn’t have to tear my clothes to feel my dick.” Childe spoke teasingly, somehow still smug despite being humiliated and groped like this.

You didn’t respond; you merely drew your hand back, giving a harsh slap to his stiff member. Childe gasped as his erection slapped against his stomach, his lungs quivering as his increasingly sensitive cock bounced back upright, throbbing with pleasure despite the pain you were causing him.

Childe moved his arms in an attempt to push himself up, but you quickly repositioned your leg to kick him back down to the ground.

“No.” You spoke sternly, staring down at the Harbinger with distaste. You began to crawl over him, keeping your body weight on his chest, silently ordering him to remain still. “You break my arm before an important deadline, then when you agree to help me with it, you get oh so flustered like a little schoolgirl and can’t keep your dick under control.”

Crawling further upwards, you slide your knees off his shoulders, settling them on either side of his head. Childe was so turned on as he stared up at your bare pussy above him, even if he realized there was a chance for him to throw you off-balance and pin you back down he wouldn’t have wanted to.

“Then, you have the audacity to call me disgusting. In my own home, for my own profession.” You sneered down at the Harbinger who simply laid there. Childe wasn’t sure if you’d sit on his face – although, a carnal part inside of him truly hoped you would.

“If you’d like me to be more respectful-” Childe’s quip was cut off by your stern order.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

Childe’s question went unanswered as a hot stream of liquid poured directly into his mouth. He sputtered for a second at the sudden bombardment, the golden fluid steaming as it quickly flooded his mouth. He thought it was water for a moment, until he registered the slightly bitter taste…

You were pissing on him.

Childe’s eyes squeezed shut as his lips sputtered, mouth quickly filled with urine, streaming down the sides of his mouth and slipping down the back of his throat. He choked at the musky taste, unable to help himself from swallowing the warm liquid.

The Harbinger didn’t know why he was suddenly so much more turned on than before. Childe’s dick throbbed almost uncontrollably at the way you used his mouth like a toilet; was he truly turned on by such an act of degradation?

He shuddered as he felt your urine trickle down the sides of his neck and into his hair. As the hot stream from above turned into more of a trickle, you lowered yourself onto Childe’s mouth, threatening to suffocate him with your pussy.

“Mmmh-” Childe groaned, his head trapped beneath your body. You were essentially sealing his mouth shut, forcing him to swallow everything that was in his mouth at the moment.

“I bet you like being put in your place like this, you filthy slut.” You spat, rolling your hips as you ground your pussy further into Childe’s mouth.

Childe was in heaven and hell at the same time. He didn’t understand how you could torture him and pleasure him at the same time, and he simply couldn’t cope with the way he hated you but at the same time desired you so intensely.

The Harbinger let out a choked whine at the way you ground into him, his shaky exhale from his nose tickling your clit. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and you smirked down at his expressions as you drove him crazy. Childe’s eyebrows pinched together as you slightly squeezed his head with your knees. Another roll of your hips and his eyes rolled back in his head, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

Despite the ferocious desire that roared in his gut, Childe felt bare without his vision; almost instinctively, he reached towards it, knowing he couldn’t feel secure with it safely beside him.

You saw a hand slide across the floor from the corner of your eye, moving towards the Hydro vision that had slid away from Childe’s body… You quickly reached over and snatched it up before he could.

“Tsk tsk…” You hummed, holding the glowing vision in the air above him. “You can’t just use your powers to get out of this.”

Childe couldn’t help his hands from flying up to your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass as he pulled you down on his mouth harder. You let out a breathy gasp as he began to suck on your sensitive clit, lips nipping at your tender bud – it was as if he were saying he didn’t want to get out of the situation… It seemed like he was actually enjoying it.

You couldn’t withhold the shudder that traveled through your body as Childe’s tongue teased your entrance. What started out as simple degradation began to feel more and more like you were pleasing him as a loud slurp escaped Childe’s lips, his teeth grazing over your clit and making you squirm.

“What are you- ahn…” Your sentence fell short as Childe’s hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you down on his face. The teasing of his tongue against your swollen lips sent pleasure shooting through your stomach, something you would never admit to the cocky Harbinger.

A muffled groan emerged from Childe’s throat as he felt your entrance tighten around his tongue. He pulled your hips down harder, ignoring the very real possibility of crushing his face with your pussy.

“Hahh…” You murmured breathily, staring down at his face. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, you filthy bastard- hnn…”

Your sentences were interrupted by the humiliating moans that you couldn’t hold back – you didn’t understand how Childe, someone you hated, could make you feel this aroused. No longer able to resist the temptation, you dropped his vision to reach down and dig your fingers into his wet and messy hair. You paid no attention to the broken arm that throbbed painfully with each movement you made. You began to rock your hips against his face harder, chasing the pleasure he was giving you… A familiar sensation began to build in your stomach as you realized he might actually make you cum like this.

One of Childe’s hands left your ass to slip under the hem of your shirt, traveling up to one of your breasts. HIs fingers groped your soft skin hungrily, wrapping around one nipple, pinching and rolling it with his thumb and forefinger.

You didn’t care how much you hated him anymore; you didn’t care that your attempt to humiliate and degrade him backfired in such a way. The noises his mouth made against your lower lips, the fingers teasing your breasts, the iron grip on your ass was driving you insane with pleasure.

“Aah, fuck!” You exclaimed, Childe’s voracious ministrations pushing you closer and closer to climax. Your cursing only drove him to pump in and out of your entrance harder as he sucked, making your thighs squeeze his head even tighter as the coil grew tighter and tighter in your stomach.

Childe could tell you were nearing climax; as he felt his head get crushed by your thighs, your entrance began to squeeze around his tongue and your breathing became far more erratic and labored. So, he decided to get payback; right as you seemed you were on the precipice of orgasm, he withdrew his tongue from you and instead bit down on your clit.

You let out a shrill scream at the deadly combination of pain and pleasure, Childe holding your clit hostage as you rode his face through your orgasm. Your body shook with the waves of pleasure that washed over you, undercut by the overstimulation the Harbinger was causing.

Childe quickly let go of you as you collapsed face-down onto the floor above his head; you were completely overwhelmed.

As you rested on the floor, Childe let out a small chuckle.

“I think you enjoyed it too.”

You let out a groan, responding “I hate you.”

In the throes of your orgasm, you forgot you had dropped Childe’s vision, allowing the Harbinger ample time to shuffle out from under you and pick it up.

“You know,” Childe climbed up onto his knees, gripping his Hydro vision tightly. “I had no clue I’d enjoy something like that. But coming from you, I wouldn’t expect anything less filthy.”

He leaned over your bare pussy, letting a string of spit fall from his mouth, directly landing onto your tender folds.

“S-sick bastard.” You muttered, pussy quivering as the disgusting mixture of saliva, cum, and urine fell from Childe’s mouth and onto you.

Childe didn’t respond; he merely stood up, summoning Hydro to spray his face and hair with, in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to clean himself up after being pissed on by you. He shook his head, flinging the water from his hair and onto the floor.

“You’re getting the floor all wet, you dirty pig.” You complained, slowly picking yourself off of the ground.

“You literally just pissed all over it.” Childe retorted.

“Yeah. It’s MY floor.” You rolled your eyes.

“You seriously can’t be calling me the dirty one here.” Childe responded, frustrated.

You had barely climbed to your feet when Childe was suddenly on top of you again. There was a sharp pain in both shoulders as he knocked you down to your knees, pressing your chest and face into the floor. He held your wrists behind your back so you couldn’t try to push yourself back up. In this position, your ass was in the air, your shoulders digging into the hard ground.

“What the fuck?” You complained, dizzy from being shoved down so fast. “Get your hands off of me, asshole!”

You gasped as you felt Childe’s erection brush against the underside of your thigh. One of his hands ghosted across your ass, fingers spreading the sensitive lips of your pussy.

“Look at you, so wet over a little face riding.” Childe sneered.

“You spat on me down there, you little shit! Of course it’s wet!” You groaned, trying to ignore the heat that flared between your legs as Childe’s fingers tugged at your swollen lips.

“Oh, I should have guessed you like being spit on.”

“That’s not what I meant, you disgusting-” Your words fell short at the feeling of Childe’s cock prodding into your soaked entrance. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing with that pathetic little dick?”

“Pathetic?” You could hear the smirk from Childe’s voice alone. “We’ll see if you call it pathetic after I’m done with you.”

Almost immediately, he thrust his hips – hard. They collided with your ass as he speared into you, forcing his cock all the way into you with no warning. You let out a wail at the initial burst of pain that was immediately followed by the intense pleasure of being filled to the brim. The tip of his cock reached dangerously deep into you, stretching out the very depths of your pussy, creating a bulge in your stomach that neither of you could see from your current positions.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Childe chirped, reveling in his invasion of your hot and wet pussy as he held his hips flush against your ass.

“Fuck- y-you!” Your voice came out far more broken and pathetic than you had intended.

“That’s bold of you to say, when I’m the one balls deep inside you.” Childe responded slyly, rolling his hips, forcing a whimper out of you as his tip dragged across your sensitive walls. “Are you reconsidering your statement earlier?”

“N-no, you sick fuck.” You whined, unable to keep your voice calm in this situation.

Childe pulled out of you slowly, and you realized just how empty you felt without him all the way inside of you. Biting back the whimper that threatened to escape your lips, you held still and waited for what you knew would come next.

The Harbinger wasted no time in setting a brutal pace of thrusts that wracked your body.

“Haahh, ngh-” Only garbled moans and gasps escaped your mouth as Childe pounded into you relentlessly. His cock was somehow able to hit that oh-so sensitive spot deep inside of you over and over almost painfully hard, as if his goal were to knock you out from pleasure. Each of his thrusts forced more and more of your slick to ooze out of your pussy, turning each slap of Childe’s hips against your ass wetter and wetter.

Your shoulders ached from the force of each thrust that pushed you into the ground, back arching further as Childe reached deeper and deeper into you. Each time his dick reached deep inside of you, driving you crazy with pleasure.

Childe slowed his movements, giving you reprieve only to tease you even more.

“I see you’re not complaining much anymore, girlie.” He laughed as his hips rolled into you at a much slower pace, still intensely pleasuring you while no longer driving you insane like before.

“F-fuck you.” You managed to rasp out, your lungs still quivering.

“Is that all you can manage to say now?” Childe teased, continuing his languid rolling, sliding his cock slowly in and out of your oozing pussy.

“No- nghh~” Your response was cut off by a sudden sharp thrust into you, Childe’s hands going to your hips in order to pull you closer to him so he could reach deeper inside of you.

“Such a filthy, filthy girl.” Childe’s breathing barely seemed labored at all despite the intense snapping of his hips against your ass. “Writing porn, tearing off my clothes, pissing in my mouth…”

Squelching noises mixed in with Childe’s filthy murmurs of degradation as slick spilled out of you with each thrust. He knew you were only getting more turned on by his dirty talk as he felt your wetness begin to drip down his legs and onto the floor in thick, slippery strings.

Childe rutted into the most sensitive spot inside of you with such force that tears began to stream down your face. Your clothes were ragged and torn, hair messy from being fucked into the ground, body quivering from the intense pleasure that almost bordered on pain. Your cheek was pressed into the floor, so you could barely see Childe above you out of the corner of one eye. You couldn’t see the expression on his face, or the way his abs flexed with each smack of his hips, or the veins that bulged from his arms due to the iron grip he had on your body.

It was too soon since your last orgasm for another one to be building up in your stomach; but you couldn’t help it. You had never been filled up so much before, fucked so vigorously before, treated like such a filthy slut before and you loved it. As you shook from the power of Childe’s every thrust, stars began to dance across your vision, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell fully into the incredible sensation.

“So soon, and you’re already crying?” Childe commented as he stared down at your pathetically trembling body and your tear-stained cheeks.

“P-please,” you blubbered, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please, it’s too much, ‘s too much, too much….”

Your cries only drove Childe to fuck you harder, threatening to bruise your ass each time his hips collided with it. Your wails turned into screams, your body unable to handle such intense stimulation as you careened over the edge of your second orgasm.

As the dam broke and the unstoppable tidal wave of pleasure crashed across your body, you lost all control – not like you had much in the first place, with Childe’s grip on your hips and the inflexible position he had put you in. You let out a shrill cry as you convulsed around Childe, each tremor of your walls against his ever-hard cock threatening overstimulation.

Childe inhaled sharply; it felt like you were trying to milk the cum out of him. He brought his thrusts down to a slow and steady pump, not to give you some rest after a brutal orgasm, but because he wanted to keep going for longer.

As soon as the pleasure began to ebb away and your pussy no longer twitched in such an intense manner, Childe picked his brutal pace back up without a second thought.

“No!” You wailed, still coming down from your climax as Childe pummeled into you. His girth stretched out your gummy cavern with each thrust, making your entire body quake, driving you insane with overstimulation.

“Come on, I thought you called my cock pathetic.” Childe sneered. “Where did all that spunk go? Don’t tell me you lost it all after you finally had a taste of it.”

He slowed down his thrusts just enough for you to regain some of your wits.

“Hnng… sick bastard…” Your words slurred together, your incoherence only turning Childe on even more.

Picking his thrusts back up, Childe decided that he wouldn’t be finishing anytime soon. He reveled in your whimpers and whines as he bullied his way into you over and over.

You felt like you were being ruined from the inside out. Minutes seemed to go by without Childe relenting at all, his rhythm still just as fast and harsh as before. Tears continued to stream down your face and blur your vision.

When you first began your regular sparring sessions with the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, you thought he was simply an immature battle-hungry grunt for the Cryo Archon. Each interaction with him always ended up as a competition, frustrating you further and further until the only thing that made you feel better was beating him in a fight. If someone had told you that you’d end up pinned to the ground, having your brains fucked out by him, you would have called them absolutely insane.

But right here, right now, new realizations emerged. Childe wasn’t only fucking you like there was no tomorrow… He was fucking you better than you ever thought anyone could. Was it his endurance and strength as a formidable fighter? Was it the intense hatred the two of you felt for each other? You assumed it must be a combination of both, as your mind drifted off into heaven from the pure ecstasy of your sex.

You were snapped out of your daze by Childe’s sudden withdrawal from you. His cock pulled out of your entrance with a wet ‘pop’, the sudden emptiness and lack of stimulation making you whimper. His hands quickly moved to push you over onto your back, his body now hovering above yours. You stared up at his lust-filled eyes, watching Childe as he drank in your tear-stained cheeks and fucked-out expression.

Childe didn’t want this to end just yet; he grabbed the underside of your legs, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pressed your knees against your chest.

“Ngh… hey…” You whimpered, squirming beneath his firm grip as he lined back up with your entrance.

Childe entered you slowly this time, reveling in the way your eyes rolled back in your head as he stretched you out once more. You let out a whine as he bottomed out, filling you up once again with his stiff and swollen cock.

“Ahh, much better.” Childe grinned, “Now I can see how much I’m ruining you.”

“No…” You murmured, staring up at his smug freckled face. Childe wasted no time in setting his pace once again, forcing a startled cry from your lips.

From this angle, it felt like he was even bigger… Your cunt squelched around him as he pounded over and over into you, each thrust making you bounce from the impact.

“I can’t wait to stuff you full of cum… ngh…” Childe groaned, his words intermixed with the lewd slaps that echoed through your study.

“No-wait, Childe, no!” You exclaimed, suddenly extremely terrified. The last thing you wanted was for that filthy Harbinger to impregnate you.

“I’d love to fuck you full of children… hahhh…” Childe seemed to be losing his composure as he pinned you down and continued to slam into you.

You tried to fight against his grip, against the force of his relentless pounding, but you were pinned down in too compromising of a position. The pleasure wracked your body and stole any control away with each thrust.

“Nghh… but not yet.” Childe muttered, his movements slowing. You whined at the lack of stimulation, some part of you hoping he would pick his pace back up, even if it risked the chance of pregnancy. You’d never admit it to anyone, not even yourself, that Childe’s desire to cum deep inside of you was incredibly hot.

“Bastard…” You grumbled, realizing this was your chance to take back control while he was too focused on preserving his stamina.

You dug both hands into the floor beside you, ignoring the sharp pain in your broken arm, deciding to kick both legs against Childe’s chest as hard as you could.

The Harbinger was too engrossed in his own pleasure to react in time. He was thrown off balance, toppling backwards onto the floor as you scrambled to climb on top of him.

“I didn’t get to choose when I came,” You grunted, positioning your hips above Childe’s erection that was messy with slick, “so you don’t get to choose when you do.”

You settled down onto his dick a little too quickly thanks to the copious volume of your own cum that coated you both. Childe let out a groan from the sudden penetration, his hands flying up to your waist. However, you immediately grabbed his wrists, gathering them into your good hand to pin them against his chest.

“You’ve been groping me all afternoon, and I don’t like that at all.” You sneered, beginning to bounce on your heels, sliding yourself up and down his length yourself. “No touching.”

Childe let out something you could only describe as a whimper. Your movements stopped for a moment, completely surprised by the noise that escaped his lips.

“What was that?” You questioned.

“Please, I wanna move.” Childe began to roll his hips beneath you, too eager for friction against his aching member. You could feel the way it throbbed inside of you, and knew he was close.

“No. Stop talking.” You grunted, your broken arm going up to his neck, once again squeezing his throat enough to cut off his supply of air. You ignored the sharp pain in your arms as you reveled in his euphoric expression of both pain and pleasure.

Childe’s dick twitched rapidly inside you, and you realized this was simply driving him further to the precipice of climax. You began to bounce again, harder this time, watching the way his mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back in his head. He was too caught up in the moment to fight against your grip on his wrists, to try to break your hand away from his neck. He was so close, he didn’t want to stop you at all.

“You look so pathetic, I love it.” You sneered. Childe’s hips moved up to meet yours with each bounce, the Harbinger chasing his orgasm despite the burn in his lungs from lack of air.

The wet slapping of skin-on-skin grew louder and louder as you both moved more and more fervently. You relied on every ounce of remaining strength to maintain your rhythm as you bounced up and down. All you needed to do was to keep going like this until you knew he was about to cum.

The Harbinger began to grow dizzy from oxygen deprivation, his vision blurring. As his rhythm suddenly faltered, hips stuttering, you knew this meant he was close.

Childe let out a startled cry as you pulled yourself off of him, your hand finally letting go of his neck to instead wrap around his cock. He coughed and gasped for air, his chest shaking as he was finally able to breathe again.

Once again, you ignored the intense pain in your broken arm as you pumped your hand up and down his cock vigorously, wanting nothing more than to drive him completely insane.

“Stop, Y/N- haah!” Childe trembled beneath your grip, his member swelling as he was finally pushed to climax against his will.

Thick ropes of white burst from him with force, splattering onto your chest before you could move to cover his tip with your hand. As time went on, more and more of his ejaculation gathered in your palm, surprising you with the sheer volume he was unloading.

“You’re cumming so much it’s disgusting.”

“Haaah…” Childe let out a breathy, half-pained sigh, “That could have been inside you.”

Despite being overwhelmed with pleasure, Childe still somehow managed to utter a comeback. You gritted your teeth angrily, fingers slipping across the tip of his oh-so-sensitive dick to gather the last drops of cum.

“I think I’d prefer it inside you.”

Climbing up, you shoved your messy fingers into his mouth, marveling at how easily he let them past his lips. You slipped them down further, pushing deeper until you could feel his throat convulse around them as he choked.

“Swallow it.” You commanded as he gagged, his tongue sliding across your fingers.

After a few moments, you pulled them out of his mouth, and he let out a groan.

“Good boy.” You sneered, wiping the mixture of ejaculation and saliva across his lips and chin.

“You’re filthy.” Childe murmured, his voice small compared to his previously confident tone.

Your body grew heavier and heavier as you came down from the high, and you could only mumble a half-coherent response.

“Says you.”

And with that, your legs finally gave out, causing you to collapse on top of Childe.

At first, the Harbinger was surprised with the way you suddenly let go of his wrists and fell face-down onto his chest. However, he began to realize just how intense and unhinged your sex had been, and understood why you’d be so exhausted.

He slowly pulled his arms out from under your body, eliciting a groan of pain from you.

“Ngh… everything hurts…” You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

Childe carefully sat up, realizing his entire body hurt too. He carefully untangled his limbs from yours, resting you on the floor as he reached for his Hydro vision that had been discarded a couple of feet away.

He shuffled over to you, realizing that you weren’t only bruised and scraped from the intense hate sex, but you also had several scars that littered what skin he could see beneath your tattered clothing. They were all at various stages of healing, some more faded than others. There was a particularly gruesome one that cut across your stomach, the deep pink mark starkly contrasting the rest of your soft skin. He couldn’t help but reach down and trace the curve of the scar, his fingers ghosting over the toughened tissue.

“Who…” Childe muttered, “Who did all of this to you?”

Sighing, you turned to glare at the Harbinger.

“Most of them are actually from you.”

Childe ignored the pang of guilt in his chest at the realization that he was the one responsible for hurting you.

“Hah.” He chuckled, “I guess this is proof that I’m a better fighter than you.”

“No, it just proves you’re a fucking asshole.” You groaned.

Childe didn’t respond; instead, the deep blue glow of Hydro began to fill the room.

You were startled by the way he suddenly activated his vision, and tried to jump into action as you thought he was about to attack you.

“Hey, hold still.” Childe rested a hand on your shoulder. “This is harder when you move.”

“What are you…” You began, but the sudden lack of pain answered for you. Your mouth dropped open as you began to regain energy, completely taken aback as you learned that Childe had a completely new skill.

As the blue glow dissipated, you immediately sat straight up and glared at the Harbinger.

“You can HEAL?!” You exclaimed, staring daggers at the ginger.

“Look, I’m really not that good at it, so-”

“Why didn’t you tell me this one of the other hundred times you’ve injured me?!” You shouted, wobbling as you climbed to your feet. “I bet you enjoyed watching me limp home after each sparring match!”

“I told you, I’m not all that confident at it, and healing without proper training can do more harm than good.” Childe responded. “However, watching you limp around after kicking my ass actually made me feel a little better.”

“You ass!” You exclaimed, winding back a fist to lay a punch on the Harbinger. However, you were quickly swept off of your feet, and found yourself in his arms instead. “Hey!”

“Alright, we’re going to see a doctor.”

“What? You just healed me, I’m fine!” You complained, squirming.

“Your arm looks like it’s even more broken than it was this morning.” Childe shook his head. “You’re going to the doctor.”

“Not like this!”

“Of course, of course, I’m getting us some clothes first.” Childe sighed. “Now which way is your closet?”

“It’s in my bedroom at the top of the stairs.” You mumbled, defeated.

~~~

“So, how is she?”

“You know, you don’t have to be in the same room while I examine Miss Y/N.” Baizhu couldn’t help his venomous tone as he glared at the Harbinger sitting beside you.

“Uhm, yeah, I agree.” You responded.

“You’ve somehow managed to make the fracture even worse.” Baizhu paused to let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve re-dressed the arm, because somehow you’ve managed to destroy the bandages in a single day, and I recommend a strict ban on whatever activities are going on between the two of you.”

“Excuse me?” You questioned. “I don’t even have the manuscript done yet!”

“Well, I suggest you politely request an extension to your deadline.” Baizhu spoke smoothly yet sternly, moving to his desk and scribbling down some illegible symbols in his prescription pad. “And I have a couple more medications for you to take, so I’ll help you out at the front counter.”

Baizhu sauntered out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He was far too fed up with the reckless endangerment of your own body.

You let out a sigh of defeat, hanging your head as you stood up from the examination table. You felt Childe’s hand ghost along the small of your back as you walked, as if he were trying to help you along or prevent you from falling. You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm away angrily.

“I can walk on my own, idiot.” You grumbled.

“Sorry,” Childe laughed awkwardly. “You’re kinda really injured, you know.”

“No thanks to you, asshole.” You rolled your eyes as you responded sarcastically. The two of you walked out of the examination room and towards the front counter of the pharmacy, where the very short Qiqi was waiting.

“Do you have a prescription?” She asked monotonically, her voice lethargic.

“It’s right here, Qiqi.” Baizhu smiled sweetly as he handed her several papers.

“Okay.” Qiqi responded, turning around and rummaging through the drawers behind her. She pulled the correct medicines out, glancing up at Baizhu who gave her a nod of approval before standing up on her tip-toes to slide them across the counter.

“Thanks, Qiqi.” You responded, picking up the medicines.

“Payment please.” Qiqi looked down, as if she were thinking about something for a moment before looking back up, peering over the countertop at you. “16,750 Mora.”

“Oh.” You murmured, reaching into your pocket for your wallet.

“No, don’t worry about it.” Childe placed his hand over yours, instead tossing his own coin purse onto the counter.

“Excuse me.” Baizhu spoke. “Is there a reason you feel obligated to pay for miss Y/N’s medicine?”

“No, not at all.” Chide smiled. “I’m just being generous.”

“Paying for someone else’s medical treatment implies guilt. Are you doing this as a way of apologizing for hurting her?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Childe tried to smile sweetly at the pharmacist, but his eye began to twitch.

“If you are, I suggest you use your words instead and save any generosity for a dinner date. Or a designer dress. Or a luxurious mansion, after everything you’ve put my dear Y/N through.” The hatred practically dripped from Baizhu’s words.

“Uhm, Baizhu, I think I’m alright.” You clutched the medicines. “I can pay for the medicine.”

“No, Childe is paying.” Baizhu smiled sweetly, a thin facade for the hatred he exuded.

“It’s my pleasure.” Childe smiled in response, just hoping to get the hell out of the pharmacy as soon as possible.

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Baizhu snapped.

“I’ll take the payment, now.” Qiqi droned, opening up the coin purse, taking out the exact change. “Thank you for your patronage.”

“Actually, Baizhu.” You turned to face the green-haired Pharmacist, “Are you able to run Bubu without Qiqi here?”

“Uhm, technically yes, why do you ask?” He tilted his head to the side.

You immediately turned to face the small zombie behind the counter.

“Qiqi, would you like some coconut milk?”

~~~

“Sir Tartaglia, how is your paperwork going-”

Ekaterina opened the door to Childe’s office, but instead of the messy head of ginger hair she normally saw hunched over the desk, she saw a young purple-haired girl who could barely see over the desk.

“Sum total debt, six hundred thousand and fifty seven mora… Interest accrued, thirty seven thousand, two hundred and eighty mora… confirm the right amount…”

“Uhm, who are you?”

Qiqi paused her vigorous scribbling across the pages of paperwork, turning to face the shocked receptionist.

“Qiqi will finish all the papers, in exchange for Cocogoat milk.”

Ekaterina stood there, mouth hanging open, completely shocked.

“I see Master Tartaglia has found yet another way to weasel out of paperwork.” She huffed, turning around and closing the door behind her to give the small child some peace and quiet. “Now…” She hummed, “Just what is the young Master up to…?”

~~~

At the same time, you were standing back in your water-logged and somewhat destroyed study, standing behind Childe who sat at your desk, typing away.

“You ruined my clothes, comma, so it’s only fair that I ruin yours, period. You reached down and hooked your fingers around the knight’s undergarments, comma, tearing them away from his waist, period.”

Childe’s fingers paused, despite your lengthy dictation. He turned his head to stare up at you with a smirk.

“Are you by any chance, perhaps, gaining inspiration from what we did yesterday?”

His teasing tone was mildly infuriating. You dug your fingers into his messy hair, forcing his head to face the typewriter once again.

“Your job is to write what I dictate.” You spat. “If I have to repeat myself again, I’m going to choke you out.”

“You know, that actually sounds kinda hot.” Childe jested.

“I don’t know if it will be once you pass out.” You threatened, hand sliding down the back of his head to grip the sides of his neck.

“Alright, alright.” Childe shook his head, shivering. “I remember every word. Don’t worry.”

“Good.” You smiled, nodding. “I’ll continue, now.”

~~~

#childe genshin x reader #childe x y/n #genshin childe #childe x you #childe x reader #childe #genshin #tartaglia #genshin impact #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x reader #baizhu #qiqi #baizhu x reader #genshin tartagalia #tartagalia x you #tartagalia smut #childe tartagalia

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zer0pm · 1 year

Text

Imagine Luis trying to help you finish your work but you end up getting distracted by him instead.

Warning: suggestive themes and mild sexual content 😘 look away, minors.

The dull clunk of ceramic on a hard surface placed beside you nearly makes you jump from your seat. It was a hot drink, steam rises from within its liquid contents and a delicious aroma fills your senses invitingly. You look up to see the amused look of Luis Serra grinning knowingly at your mild surprise.

“Another late one, eh?” He had his own mug in his hand, taking short sips as he leaned against your table casually. His white lab coat was open, revealing a partially unbuttoned white collar shirt and dark blue jeans. The open coat flowed down the length of his form, accentuating his tall frame. His grey eyes ran down your hunched posture before rising to meet your exhausted gaze.

It was just the two of you in the lab, everyone else had already gone home for the day. You were both in the same research department and were leading your own projects. When it came to biochemical and pharmaceutical research, Luis was a genius in the field, same as you. It was actually how you two grew close. Your line of work makes you both linger in the lab long after the sun has already set until it was only the two of you left. These frequent, private moments in the shared space would then be filled with meaningful conversations and playful banter. You learned quickly then that Luis was a serial flirt, but he possessed a gentlemanly charisma that did not deter you from engaging him further. In fact, you welcomed his attentions.

One day, he asked you out and you two have been officially dating since. The both of you were mindful to keep your personal lives out of the workplace, wanting to maintain a sense of professionalism between you in front of your peers. Thankfully, none of your fellow coworkers caught on to your affairs so you were able to carry on with your respective works as normal.

You reply to him with a groan, burying your tired face in the palm of your hand. “Have to file another report for Wesker, apparently there’s some big meeting tomorrow morning-” you turn your wrist to glance at your watch, completely crestfallen at the lateness of the hour. “This is going to take forever.”

The Spaniard frowns, a flash of genuine pity in his eyes before they alight with an idea. “How far are you along?”

“About three more pages to go.” It didn’t sound like a lot, but the amount of information that you needed to provide is not only lengthy in detail, but also time consuming as you must include multiple references from other reports as well. And since you were the last person in your team still in the building, it fell on you to make sure that it was concise and perfect. The pressure from that thought alone made your grimace deepen.

“Perhaps, I can offer my assistance,” Luis says, pulling you from your downtrodden thoughts.

You glance at him, visibly touched by his considerate intent but dubious, “Thanks, but you weren’t working on this project, Luis. You don’t have the necessary information to provide meaningful insight for my report.”

He nods, “Correcto. But that wasn’t what I was offering.”

This piqued your interest. “Oh? Then how exactly are you planning on helping me?”

“Dos palabras,” he lifts his hand and extends one finger in the air after another. “Positive. Reinforcement.”

Your intrigue only amplified at his words and still you couldn’t make heads or tails of what he actually means. “So basically a reward system,” you say slowly.

“¡Sí!” The man chimes with infectious enthusiasm. “Right now, you have no motivation to finish your work, yes? If there was, say, something to look forward to, then you would be more inclined to finish. And, ideally, at a faster rate. ¿Comprende?”

“I get you, but.. what would that even entail? What are you giving me?”

The Spaniard shrugs, his characteristic smirk gracing his handsome features. “Guess you’ll have to finish this current page to find out. Chop chop, my dear.”

With a swift clap on your back, Luis retreats from your side to return to his own desk on the other end of the laboratory. Your eyes followed his stride and lingered on his form long after he sat down with his back towards you. You wondered what sort of “positive reinforcement” he had in mind for you.

You shake your head, choosing not to linger on that tempting thought. You had a report blaring at you through your computer screen that needed your undeniable attention and you were only halfway done through the current page. With a determined roll of your stiff shoulders, you went back to work.

After nearly half an hour, you finally finished the hellish portion of the report. Much sooner than you had anticipated. “One down!” you said aloud with a triumphant smile.

Luis perks up at your declaration and rises from his work desk to return to your side. His eyes scan over the document. “Hey, this isn’t bad. Muy bien.”

“Thanks, Luis.” Your mood lifts ever so slightly at his warm praise. “Just two more to go. I can do this.”

The man beside you hums in agreement. “You most definitely can. And your efforts so far deserve a reward.”

You blink at him incredulously, “You were serious about that?”

“Why would I not be? Am I not a man of my word?” Before you can answer him, Luis turns your seated form to face him, your chair swiveling under his strength. He extends his hand to you with a warm smile, “Give me your hand, por favor.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, reaching for his hand and clasping it. He felt warm to the touch, a welcome contrast to the chilly air flowing in the laboratory. He squeezes your hand affectionately, “Now close your eyes.”

You tilt your head at his request, amused curiosity curving subtly upon your lips. He throws you a telling glance to follow his lead and you do as he says without any further resistance. For a moment, there was nothing and you wondered what he was doing until you felt the fan of his warm breath against your ear followed by a tender kiss upon your cheek.

It was only until you felt his breath leave you did you open your eyes, a look upon your face as if you were just waking from a trance. His face hovered by yours but was far enough where you can see him fully. His body hunched slightly over your seated form, his hand at the backrest of your chair, supporting his weight so that he doesn’t fall over you. The temperature of your body rises at his closeness.

He looks down at you through thick lashes. “A blessing of sorts,” he winks, explaining himself before you had the chance to inquire him on what he just did. “To lift your spirits and motivate you to keep going. Is it working?”

Now that he mentions it, the weariness that hung over you like a thick blanket felt lighter on your shoulders. There was no denying that his charismatic presence and comforting attention has put you at ease. The kiss certainly helps as well but you dare not admit that out loud. The man’s ego was big enough already, no need for you to stroke it. You had to mentally slap yourself from letting that line of thought drift to naughty waters.

Still in a distracted state from his tender affection, you merely nod in response. Your lover’s easygoing smile widens and he plants another chaste kiss. This time upon your lips. You felt you were in a daze before, now your mind went completely blank.

“Let me know when you’ve finished the next page,” you catch Luis say before he leaves you with your mouth slightly agape.

To say you were confounded was an understatement. The two of you have kissed plenty of times before in the past but never at work. You were not opposed to it, per se, and truthfully it stirred within you temptations begging to be explored. But you did not think that Luis would create openings for such temptations so casually. You wanted to confront him about it but can hear him typing away loudly at his own desk. Taking this as a sign to return to your own task, you go back to work as well.

This next part of your report should have been done faster. It was not as detail intensive as the last, yet there was no doubt that you lagged in completing it. You knew why too. You were completely and utterly distracted. Luis’ innocent gesture kept running to the forefront of your mind like a song on repeat. It was such a short instance too, you can hardly call it a meaningful interaction. But the memory of how his lips felt against yours lingered and it took a bit of extra mental effort to power through the next portion of your project. Eventually you succeeded.

With a huff, you lean back into your seat and announced your small success once more. “Alright! Another one down.”

“That’s great, mi corazon. Well done.”

Luis’ voice nearly makes you fall off your chair. When you look up, he was already leaning over your shoulder, glancing through your new entries with genuine intellectual interest. When did he walk back over to you? How long was he standing there?

“This is excellent stuff. I’m certain Wesker and the higher ups will be pleased with your research,” he smiles down at you in praise. “I believe another reward is in order.”

Without giving you a chance to recover let alone register his words, Luis grasps your chin between his fingers and turns your head towards him. Your dark-haired lover then adjusts his position to better angle himself as he leans down to capture your lips once more. This kiss started off gently before deepening gradually into something fiercer. His devilish tongue swipes along your bottom lip for invitation and snakes inside your responsive mouth to engage your wanting tongue in a slow, sensual dance.

Desire bubbled feverishly in the pit of your stomach and you nearly moan into his mouth, but the sound turns into a longing whimper when he pulls away from you. Again, much more quickly than you would have liked. His hypnotic grey eyes beholds your lustful expression appreciatively.

“Eres mi tesoro,” he says with a husky voice so low, the sound flows into your ears and soothes your senses into a tender lull. “Haces que yo quiera ser una mejor persona.”

You’ve heard Luis speak in his native tongue many times before. For him to use it to sing your praises with genuine adoration sent shivers across your body without fail, stimulating you from your exhausted state and sharpening your awareness until your only center of focus was him.

His hand shifts from your chin to your cheek, cradling your face lovingly, a warm gesture that reaches his eyes. “Last one. You got this.”

With that, he removes himself from your side a third time, returning to his own chair without a second glance. There was a hint of a smirk tugging at the end of his mouth that you had managed to catch before he turned from you completely. The loss of him making you pout longingly. Luis was right, though. You were almost at the finish line with your work. The sooner you complete this report, the sooner you can call it a day and see what the Spaniard had in store for you as the last installment of this reward system he erected for you. Just the thought of kissing him again filled you with eager determination. With a crack of your knuckles, you hover back to your keyboard once more.

You were screwed. Absolutely ruined. Ever since Luis left you wanting with that last mind-blowing kiss, you were unable to concentrate on your report at all. In fact, you haven’t typed a single new word. The last page has been completely blank for what seemed like an eternity, blaringly white in your screen. The blinking of the line waiting for your input taunts you along with the ticking of the overhead clock.

“Luis,” you call out to him in frustration.

“¿Sí, mi amor? What’s wrong?” You hear his voice echo back, noting your tone with mindful intrigue.

“I can’t do it,” you admit, a defeated groan escaping you. “I can’t finish this stupid report.”

His approaching footsteps pick up so rapidly that he’s next to you again in a matter of seconds, evident concern on his face.

“What happened?” Luis asked. “Did you discover contradictions in your variables?”

You shake your head, burying your face in both of your hands to hide the burning, shameful blush on your cheeks. Luis didn’t catch it right away, kneeling beside your hunched form and rubbing the tension from your back with a soothing hand.

“It’s all your fault,” you pout, glaring daggers at him. “Because of your and your damn positive reinforcement, I can’t focus!”

His look of worry quickly turned to confusion before realization sets in and his lips curve into a lecherous grin. “Oh, really?” he prods, looking so infuriatingly proud.

“Don’t you dare give me that look! Was this your intention all along?”

“To be perfectly honest, no. I really thought I came up with a good motivational tool to help you along,” he shrugs, his playful tone absent as he spoke, accentuating his genuity. “It appears, however, that my idea backfired.”

You shoot him a pointed look that practically shouted at him for his astonishing observation of the obvious. “Luis, I really do have to finish this report. But how can I do that when all I can think about is you.”

Luis wears an exaggerated expression of awe, his hand placed over his heart as if you just gave him a moving declaration of love. “¡Oh Dios mío! That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” You nearly slapped him then and there but the Spaniard catches your wrist with a cheeky chuckle. “Sorry. Truly. Allow me to make it up to you.”

Still riding your mild frustration, you take his bait. “And how are you going to do that, huh?”

A playful glint in his eyes flash at your inquiry. “The way I see it, mi amor, I am the source of your distraction. There are two ways this can be resolved.”

Luis lifts one finger, “One. I can leave for the day and leave you to your own devices. Pero, I don’t think that will really help, in my humble opinion.” He lifts another. “Two. We get me out of your system.”

Already you knew where he was heading with that one but wanted clarification anyways. “You’re going to make me ask how you’re going to-”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. He doesn’t wait for you to ask. Instead, he drags you from your chair to stand up before him and pulls you into his tight embrace before ensnaring you into another passionate kiss. Your body shudders from his talented mouth working wonders upon your senses, frustration dashed away for sensual need to take root. You are once again consumed with fervent desire, plunged into a pool of warmth. Luis had you under his mercy, but when he guided you both onto one of the medical chairs used for pharmaceutical testing, he was the one under you.

He holds you firmly against him, using his long legs to spread yours so that they hung loosely around his hips and dangled off the chair, effectively caging you around him. The entire time, not once have your lips separated and when they did, it was only to take in much needed air before diving back into one another. You loved kissing Luis, being with him like this set off sparks on you that you couldn’t compare to anything else. He teases you like it is a game of push and pull, but holds you like you are the only thing in the world to him. It was mix of sensations that fills you both with excitement and contentment, leaving you guessing of what he’ll do next but giving you comfort in knowing that everything he does is with your satisfaction in mind. And right now, he sought that for you both.

The evidence of his desire for you presses enthusiastically against your inner thigh. You can feel his arousal throbbing beneath the layers of fabric that separated you two. Luis groans sinfully against your mouth when you reflexively ground your hips on his sensitive organ. In turn, he squeezes the flesh of your ass daringly, pulling you closer into him while purposefully thrusting upwards, creating delicious friction. The pace he sets is slow and full of promise, rubbing along your sensitive area like a match burning at your core but not vigorously enough to set your carnal needs aflame, torturously teasing you from your release. You wanted more of him, you needed more of him.

But you remember where you are. And even though every part of your body screamed for you to succumb to your baser desires and engage in uninhibited pleasure with your Spanish lover- this wasn’t the place or the time for it.

“Luis-” you began. The man cuts you off with a kiss once more and your voice slips into another traitorous moan.

“Lo sé, mi amor, lo sé.” Luis whispers before pulling away, already knowing what you were going to say, peppering your jaw and neck with loving nips. “I am perfectly content with just this. Having you in my arms.”

A comfortable air settles between you two, allowing yourselves to calm down from your sexual high. With a heavy sigh, he rests his head upon your shoulder, not meeting your eyes.

“I’m sorry, mi corazon. I really did want to help.” Although his voice was hoarse with desire still, guilt riddled on the surface. You kissed the top of his head then, already forgiven him.

“You know,” you began to say, “this is an egregious misuse of this medical chair.”

He arches his thick brow at you, spirits lifting at your playful tone. “We were at it for awhile. You choose now to have a guilty conscience?”

His endearing smile returns to his handsome face when he sees you laughing at his words. One of his hands squeezes at your thigh to call back your attention. “Suppose we should move, eh? You still have that report to finish.”

You look down thoughtfully, pondering his suggestion before relaxing your body atop his, head resting on his shoulder. “I’m okay with staying like this for a little longer if you are.”

Luis chest rumbles in light-hearted humor at your decision but evidently had no complaints as he adjusted you both on the chair to make himself more comfortable. His arms wrap around you, drawing soothing patterns on your lower back as he rests his cheek against your head. You can feel his lips tug into a content smile.

“I like having you on top of me, anyways.” Immediately you snort unattractively and his voices pitches in curiosity. “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing, sorry.” you apologize, failing beautifully in choking your laughter down. “Forget you heard that.”

“C’mon. Tell me. I want to know.”

You lift yourself slightly to look him straight in the eyes, a tinge of red on your cheeks in growing embarrassment. “Promise not to take it the wrong way?”

He observes your expression with unrestrained curiosity. “Lo prometo. Now, what is it?”

“I just…” you trail off for a moment, biting your lip. “The way you said how you liked our current position, it sounded like you admitted to being the submissive type.”

You watched his amused curiosity fall down to that of pure, unadulterated shock. For a moment, you thought you’ve gone too far with your honesty. However, as if driven by masculine pride, Luis lifts you both up from the chair with a strength that astonishes you and places you to take his spot against the now warmed cushion.

You were not sure if what came after was meant to be a sort of punishment or more positive reinforcement. But you did not have any complaints and were so blissfully exhausted the following morning, it was a miracle you ever managed to finish your report on time. Upon submitting it, Luis used his charm to ensure you time off so that you can enjoy some much deserved rest. To your surprise, he took the rest of the day off too and went home with you with some more rewards in mind.

A/N: This is a request for @luis-serras-little-slut. Hope you liked the twist ;) Thank you very much for the sweet ask.

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writemekpop · 1 year

Text

Home Alone | Kim Jongin (Kai)

Summary: Your husband Kai accuses you of not trusting him with your baby daughter.

Genre: New parents AU, domestic, angsty, house hubby Kai

Word Count: 0.8k

You were trying to balance the dangerous job of straightening your hair while buttoning up a onesie for your one-year-old. The hot blades wavered ever closer to the soft blue cotton.

That was when you got the call. You threw down the phone. “My mother’s sick! She can’t take Jasmine!”

Your husband Kai sprang up. He had been kneeling on the floor, building a house of cards in the pristine emptiness of the living room you had just cleaned. The house collapsed with a sigh.

“I’ve got to leave,” you groaned, lifting your baby daughter Jasmine into your arms. “Hey Jazzy, have you ever been to a board meeting before?”

The baby giggled.

Kai stepped forward, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “Hey, I can take her!” He frowned. “It’s not like I’ve never looked after Jazz.” He paused, his face falling blank. “Actually… you have never asked me to look after Jazz. How come?”

Your heart rate was increasing just hearing his words. Everything came into sharp focus. Kai’s odd combination of Hawaiian shorts, a silk shirt and flip-flops. The cigarette butts still smouldering in the ashtray on the balcony he thought you didn’t know about.

The sound of your phone alarm, titled, LEAVE THE HOUSE BITCH, began to buzz like an angry wasp in your ear.

“Um, yes, sweetie, of course I want you to look after Jasmine, it’s just-“ you scrambled for a lie. “You’re… too… busy! I don’t want to get the way of your fancy actor work!”

He frowned. “But baby, you know shooting hasn’t started yet.”

You needed a better excuse. “But your lines. You have to learn them. I would rather than die than keep you away from your lines.”

You could almost hear the drone of the station announcer: “Last call for the 8:05 train. Last call…”

Kai grinned in disbelief. “You’re saying I can’t look after Jazz… because I have to read a script?” He frowned. “Do you not trust me to look after our daughter?”

“Oh, Kai.” You squeezed your temples. “I don’t have time for this. Fine You want the truth?. No, I don’t trust you with my child.”

“Our child.” Kai scoffed. “And you can’t say that! How could you?”

You gestured to the pigsty that was the apartment. “You’re irresponsible. You’re untidy. You’re out partying every night-“

You were about to say more, but you stopped yourself. Some things were too true to say. Everybody deserved a few lies to cling onto.

Kai sighed, and you hated how well he knew you. “Go on. Say what you’re thinking.”

You sighed. “Oh… and acting is not a real job!”

Kai bit his lip, pain flashing over his handsome features. “So, what was your big plan? Keep her from me for the next eighteen years?

You tried to deny it, but fell silent when you saw the pain in his eyes. “N-not eighteen. Maybe… ten.”

And suddenly, you felt like an awful person. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You- you’re a great father, you just… don’t have the skills yet to look after her. The knowledge.”

Kai sighed. His voice was very quiet. “I know that she naps between eleven and one. I know that Fuzzy is her favourite toy. I know that she can’t sleep on her tummy, or drink cow’s milk, or have too many baths.”

“How did you…” you started. “I read those parenting books that you aways leave lying around,” Kai said, crossing his arms.

You stepped towards him, smoothing your hands over his face. “I had no idea…”

You pressed your lips to his, and in the shape of his firm body, his scent, you almost lost yourself.

Kai gently pulled away, crooning, “Go. As much as I’d like you to stay, your genius is needed at a board meeting. I’ve got her.”

You smiled, picking up your bags. “Okay. But I am FaceTiming you in an hour. Every hour, actually.”

Kai grinned, that lopsided grin that made you giddy when you were still nineteen and an extra on some unknown TV show. You may have given up on acting, but you never gave up on the boy of your dreams.

You left a little piece of your heart with Kai and Jasmine, then shrugged on your blazer and stepped out into the brightening morning light.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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lovedrots · 2 years

Note

hii! i love your work :) how about peter x stark!reader where y/n and flash are forced to be partners for a project but peter gets adorably jealous over the whole thing <3

ii. what he doesn't have

ii . what he doesn’t have - p.p. x stark!reader

synopsis : being a stark means that almost everyone is chasing after you for schoolwork help, being a “genius’s” daughter. so, what happens when you happen to be paired for a project with the one and only flash thompson – with your boyfriend, peter parker, in the same class?

warnings : mild swearing, insecure pete :(, flash being a bully as always

a/n : thank you for the compliment and request, angel! i’ve tried my best to get our boy’s insecure and jealous side down, but please bear with me if it’s off at all. ps; it may be a little rushed? <3

word count : 2,737

all you’ve known since you were a kid were luxuries, crime-scenes, and a fair share of booksmarts. all thanks to your surname; stark.

yeah, a part of you enjoyed the whispers of awe, the freebies you got when you were out. but school? that was a whole other situation in itself.

you were constantly surrounded and berated by students, offering cash, – as if you needed any more – snacks, their souls, for you to do their projects, finals, or homework for them. though you could understand where they came from, it did nothing to soothe your anxiety and annoyance.

the only thing that did help, was your boyfriend. peter benjamin parker.

each morning he awaited you at your locker, doe-eyes locked onto you like you were the moon and sun. under his gaze, everything melted away, and you felt as if you were wrapped in a freshly washed blanket.

but, lets not get ahead of ourselves. after all, every relationship, no matter how loving, comes with its downsides. you and peter’s?

jealousy.

when you weren’t spending every moment of every day together, peter would watch you as you got flocked by hopeful, puppy-loving boys and girls. though you’d always proudly shown your boyfriend off to the world, it didn’t exactly stop the declarations of ‘love’ from rolling in.

and today was really no different. you and peter walked hand-in-hand down the halls of midtown high, floating above everyone else, whispering in each others ears, grins plastered on your faces. to everyone else, it looked as though you were exchanging compliments, words of romance.

but, what you were really discussing?

what the two of you wanted to research for today’s announced chemistry project.

“what about the fritz harber’s experiments?” you offered, wrecking your brain for ideas. you knew that your teacher would provide everyone lists of suggestions, but you had always preferred to think of something on your own. the lists were your fallback plan.

“that feels more like a history subject,” he countered, biting his lip. “other than going into detail about chemical warfare – which, again; history – there isn’t much we can do.”

you threw your head back in exasperation, wishing you could fall to the floor then and there. this project had to be perfect. it was your ticket to m.i.t., or any ivy league college, for that matter.

the two of you volleyed suggestions back and forth, bickering, laughing, and brooding, ‘till you reached the open door to ms. warren’s classroom. peter gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a reassurance. even if it took a few hours of brainstorming, you’d come up with something. you had to.

you strayed from him, taking your assigned seat a few tables away. you weren’t a big fan of the arrangement, but you knew the teacher only wanted the best for you. especially after peter and you had wasted days worths of time whispering to each other, when you should have been paying attention.

the rest of the class tumbled in as the bell chimed, sitting in their respective corners, voices dialing down to a hush as ms. warren stood, a stack of papers – what you assumed to be the project rubric – in her hands.

“class,” she curtly nodded. “i believe we all know what today is, yes?”

you all muttered your agreements, shifting in your chairs, eger to get to work. you didn’t have much time to complete it, after all; only a week. normally, you’d get two. or more.

the lady grinned in approval, thumbing through the stack, pulling out a singular list from the bunch. “now, normally, i would let you guys choose your groups. but, upon recent mishaps,” her eyes narrowed to two boys, who had caused a minor fire while goofing off in class during the last project, “i’ve taken … extra precautions. i’ve decided to arrange partners by last name. if all goes well, you can return to your normal pairs.”

you shot up in year seat, alarms going off in your head. you and peter’s eyes met at the same moment, both of you pouty and distraught. this would be one of the first projects you would do separately.

the teacher began reading off a list of names, passing out yellow-print rubrics as she brushed between tables.

you fiddled with the bent edge of your paper, waiting for her to near the ‘s’ section.

what didn’t occur to you, was that you were the only ‘s’ in the class.

“eugene – flash – thompson, and y/n stark,” she went on until she hit the end of the list with a click of her tongue. she found her way back to her desk, sitting cross-legged upon her plush seat. before any of your peers could whine in protest, she waved her finger, eyes shooting daggers. or, more accurately, threats of an ‘F’ on your papers. “if i hear any one of you complain, i won’t hesitate to try this experiment again,”

needless to say, the lot of you shut up.

“off you go,” she announced with the wave of her hand. off you went, indeed; the classroom was a mess, students trying to find their partners – some even struggling to figure out who, exactly, they were paired with. it was a frenzy.

but, it was no issue for you.

how could it be, when you were with the flamboyant, arrogant, rather bastardous flash. you’d despised him ever since liz’s house party, when he had publicly made a fool of poor peter parker. you were a tad bit annoyed at ned, too – but that was a different story. ned was still one of your best friends. but flash? god, he was just a bully.

you slid into the seat next to him, and though you met his gaze, your eyes were anything but kind. “listen here eugene,” you huffed, “i’m just here to get our work done. this does not mean i see you as anything more than trash.”

flash scoffed, as though to cover up the fact that he was (very obviously) butt-hurt. “i don’t need to hear that from someone with penis-parker. it’s flash, by the way. not eugene.”

you chuckled, fiddling with the end of your number two pencil. “right, sorry eugene. but i don’t think you should talk that way to someone with such close contact to your beloved spider-man.”

he puckered his lips, face growing sour. “oh, come on. everyone loves spider-man. he’s awesome. i’m not abnormal, like your boy-toy. unless you’re referring to my good looks and class.” he wiggled his brows, and though it wasn’t his intent, you only cackled louder at his unwavering cockiness.

earning a glance from peter.

the poor boy, already brooding from ms. warren’s new arrangement, seemed to deflate further. he couldn’t exactly pick up what you were talking about. all he saw was your face lighting up, laughing at – what he assumed to be – a stupid joke made by his bully.

throughout the period, you and flash bickered to no end. poking fun at each other's hair, clothes, even your friends. though you both had malicious intent, peter couldn’t help but catch flash slipping up; his hand lingering next to yours, even when you pushed him away, calling you silly nicknames, though you angrily told him to stop. the way he brushed the hair out of your face, before you swatted his hand away, threatening to chop his beloved body parts off. the whites of your boyfriend’s knuckles showed, him wishing he could simply pounce off the walls and leave a bruise on the other’s sad mistake of a face.

when the bell rung, you didn’t hesitate to hop off the chair quick as lighting, snatching up your notebook and pens. you didn’t even bother to bid flash good-bye, even when he extended a card with his number plastered in gold letters.

a card that you ignored. what sort of stuck-up kid carried a fake business card with them?

slinging your backpack over a shoulder, you skipped over to pete, mindlessly taking his hand; a habit you gathered a month into dating. he seemed to squeeze your fingers tighter than usual, and though you thought nothing of it, it didn’t stop you from noticing as you left the school house.

on the way back to peter’s apartment, the boy seemed awfully quiet. he even refused to look you in the eye, syrup-brown eyes gazing into storm drains, or up at street lamps. though, they seemed so far off, as if he wasn’t truly present. you had been chattering on-and-off for the entire ten minute walk home, stopping only when you realized he really wasn't content on responding, no matter how many times you called his name. for someone whose senses were dialed to, like, two hundred, he sure was good at ignoring situations.

you had iterated the same question six times to him, before you gave up, your grip on his hand growing tighter, as if you were afraid he would let go.

reaching his loft number, he unlocked the front door, calling out for aunt may.

not home. likely getting takeout, he had suggested gruffly.

peter dropped his bag down next to yours, making a beeline for his bedroom; the room you’d spent so many sleepless nights together in.

you followed him, hand colder now that he let you go. “pete, are you okay?” you asked gently, sitting next to him on the bed, your shoulders touching. the boy moved impossibly closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms encircling your waist.

he was only this needy after a bad day.

“peter?” you whispered, lips pulled into a frown. “hey, talk to me. did i do something? you know you can tell me anything. i won’t look down on you.”

“you will,” he responded, pulling his head back to look at you, at last. his usually soft eyes seemed sharper, sculpted with anger. “it’s – it’s not you i’m angry with. flash; he should know who you belong to. not that you’re an object! i just – i just can’t. i can’t watch him take the only thing that i have to myself. he shouldn’t have been touching you, your hands, your face –”

your stare softened, cupping his pouting face in both your hands. ‘that’s what this fuss is about? flash? i knew it was a special case. these things happen wayyy to much for it to have just been normal jealousy.”

he leaned into your touch, nodding as he pressed his lips to the palm of your hand. “he gets everything he wants. and people don’t even actually like him! he’s mean, and annoying, and …” his voice broke, and with it, so did your heart. “you’re the only thing of mine that he doesn’t have.”

his sniffles had you wiping salty tears from his pink cheeks, the once harsh gaze in his eyes now soft. sad. “you know how i feel about flash. he’s a total bitch.”

“but you laughed with him. i’m telling you; he’s trying to take you, to get to me. and he’s better, in more ways than one. he’s rich. confident.”

“laughed with him?” you breathed a ghost of a giggle. “pete, i was laughing at him. the idiot’s the most hypocritical, egotistical ass in the world. even my dad couldn’t beat him there. and, why would i ever need his wealth?”

“... you’ve got a point,” peter huffed, sucking on his teeth. “but he touched you … still …”

“and i told him off for it,” you shrugged, thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. “you know i wouldn’t let anyone else do that with me.”

“y/n, am i stupid? for getting jealous?” he asked meekly, swallowing the lump in his throat. he’d been pondering the question during the walk home, shutting out all noise in the process. after all, you had rejected his enemy’s moves bluntly. you hadn’t even accepted his phone number. but it still bugged him. he knew you wouldn’t ever leave him for eugene thompson of all people, but having anyone show romantic interest in you was like a knife to the heart.

your brows narrowed. “stupid? no, pete, never. that guy’s the dumb one, for ever thinking he had a chance against you,” you scoffed. “i mean, he has a mustache, for thor’s sake.”

the joke lured a gurgle of a laugh from your companion. “thank’s, y/n/n,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to yours, inch by inch.

when his lips captured yours, you savored it. if you hadn’t been sitting, you would have collapsed, your knees feeling so week at his touch. it was different, this time. normally, his kisses were sweet, short. endearing. but in that moment, it was greedy, almost devouring, as if he was happy to simply drown in the essence of you. he tasted like blueberry pie, and you were more than eager to explore it all, the fluttering in your stomach something you could never get used to, and –

“you kids home?” a feminine voice called from the corridor. you pounced off of peter, stumbling back, up against his closet.

“yeah,” he shouted, though his voice was that of a mouse. he looked at you for approval, red blotting his cheeks and nose. you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, the poor guy in front of you very obviously distraught.

you heard shuffling in the background, plastic bags being undone. “lovely!” may hummed. “i got us tacos. i was going to make a stir-fry, but …”

“it’s fine, may. thank you,” you said through strings of giggles. you offered peter an outstretched hand, which he gratefully took, pulling himself off the bed. you knew he could do it on his own with ease, but the small action touched his heart.

you laced your fingers through his, leading him into the dining room, takeout boxes neatly unfolded. “is something wrong?” may asked doubtfully, eyeing peter’s puffy eyes and flushed face. you wore a devil’s grin, which your boyfriend could only take as, ‘we’ve got a new story to tell your aunt.’

and there was certainly no backing you down.

the rest of the night was spent on the three of you laughing over your dinner, peter pouting as you gleefully exposed his fit only moments ago (making sure to leave out the insecure bits. you weren’t willing to shatter his trust in you, after all).

needless to say, it was 2:45 a.m. by the time peter swung you back to the tower.

a week had passed, and you were exhausted. each meeting you had with flash, the more you seemed to hate the guy. it had gotten to the point where you gave him an ultimatum; if he talked to you about anything that wasn’t related to the project, you would ‘show spidey his fan-accounts.’ specifically, the embarrassing ones, like when he theorized that spider-man was the lovechild of tony stark and some monstrous spider-queen.

a scene you really didn’t need to visualize, regarding your dad.

and it worked. he stopped touching you, stopped talking to you outside of your class time. he even stopped making fun of peter, when you were around. which was basically all the time.

but now, the two of you were wrapping up your presentation. you had spent hours and sleepless nights on your gadget. even pete had pitched in some help, which you thankfully repaid him for by helping code his own machine.

you dramatically bowed at the end of your speech, earning a laugh from your peers. the last project of the day, finally completed. hopping off the mini-stage, you skittered to your lover, letting him wrap you in an embrace. “i’m so proud of you!” he cheered, ruffling your hair.

you made a noise similar to whining, ducking to avoid the further messing up of your appearance. “i don’t think anyone could top yours, though.”

he grinned like a little kid, his chest puffing with pride. you were so focused on cooing over him, that you hadn’t noticed your project partner sauntering in your direction.

“yo, y/n/n! i think we work pretty well together. we sho–”

“don’t talk to my girlfriend,” peter snapped, grip on your silhouette tightening.

you nodded in approval, rubbing his back. “you tell him, baby,” you sniggered, joyful that your boyfriend had so openly shot down the bastard.

… and, seeing flash’s baffled face was a plus, you supposed.

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marcia-11111 · 9 months

Text

Somewhere only we know - Sae Itoshi x fem! reader

It's a fluff with some angsty pieces. Reader is a captain of the coeducational team of Real Madrid, the new idea of World's Soccer Association. A mention of reader's sad past. Sae may be a little ooc.

Sae Itoshi is a character who belongs to the authors of the manga and anime "Blue lock".

h/c - hair colour

e/c - eye colour

s/t - skin tone

Please don't translate, plagiarise nor use my works on other social media platforms, etc.

--------------------------------

As harsh, cold, and distant as Sae Itoshi has become since his arrival in Spain, he was still only a human. The wind caused his reddish-brown hair to move. The new idea of the World Soccer Association dismayed him. Coeducational team? What a farce. Playing with women didn’t bother him, but having more people on his contact list was indeed troubling. At that point in time, Sae certainly hadn’t thought he would meet the bane of his existence. As much as Y/N L/N was an infuriating woman with her beautiful h/c hair and s/t skin, he could not have removed the picture of the striker from his head. How dare she have flashed her sparkling e/c eyes at him? Did she not realize how he must have felt next to Y/N?

A Japanese prodigy. A genius midfielder. A member of Real Madrid's youth team. An asshole. A handsome male who is rude to interviewers. Because of his outstanding soccer career, the older Itoshi earned numerous titles and nicknames. Everything would have been flowing altogether if it weren’t for the new captain of Real Madrid’s coeducational team, Y/N L/N. He remembered their first meeting too well. No matter how hard he tried, he persisted in having forgotten her; he could not have done so.

That Monday evening after practice. One week ago, when Sae’s teal eyes met Y/N’s e/c one, he kept his distance, never exposing that his distant nature was only a facade. She came up to him.

“Leave me be. You probably know who I am, so I won’t bother with saying anything more to you.” He said it coldly. His demeanor didn’t discourage her.

“A kind of peculiar way to introduce yourself to the new captain of Real Madrid, Sae Itoshi. I do not have to announce who I am either.” Y/N chuckled. Of course he knew who she was—Y/N L/N, the ex-captain and ex-striker of the Brazilian pro-team, Jackals. Her former teammates were such prodigies as herself. Even though she was already a star, Sae could not have been less bothered by the woman’s presence until their gazes met for the first time. He felt a bizarre feeling—it wasn’t butterflies, but a sense of familiarity. The midfielder noticed a bandage on her right arm, not having dared to ask what had happened to her.

“I am not interested in talking with you.” The Japanese prodigy remained completely unfazed, despite a glint of surprise he (luckily) managed to contain.

“Mhm. As if I wanted to talk with someone who has your attitude,” She replied calmly. “Y/N L/N. Whether it’s a pleasure or not to see me for you, I do not care. My responsibility as a captain is to inform teammates of upcoming matches and not indulge in personal matters. You are a midfielder, correct?” Y/n added. Sae was flabbergasted. That woman appalled him to no end. Her beauty, her remarks, her personality. She is the new captain!? Good luck to members who cannot handle sarcasm and criticism.

“... Correct.” Sae answered. His tone of voice was still as cold as the Arctic Ocean. He scanned the h/c’s woman's body, trying not to stare.

“Good. We have a practice match tomorrow. With FC Barcelona. Coeducational team. See you soon.” After having said that, his new captain just walked away. He didn’t want to be bothered by anyone; however, why did he feel the urge to run after her? He stayed in place, completely frozen due to the events of the past few minutes. The practice match against the rival team ended with a score of 4:3 for Real Madrid. Y/N proved herself one more time.

One month later, Sae found himself wandering aimlessly around the shores of Barcelona. Staring at the sea was his favorite pastime. It eased the mind of the young prodigy. The calm waves differed greatly from the people he was forced to be surrounded by. The feeling of the sand under his bare feet, freedom from any kinds of obligations, and hustle of the soccer world...

What the boy could not have expected was to meet someone as strong and confident as Y/N, crying on the beach. She appeared vulnerable yet powerful, beautiful yet sad.

“Why do you still haunt my mind? Why did my former team disband? Just why?” She sobbed to herself. They were the only two people on that shore. “Glass-shattered… That much for half a year not being present in the soccer world. Everything slipped through my fingers.” A young female took the sand in her hand and let it fall on the beach. “Just like this sand.”

Sae observed Y/N’s movements. She seemed so weak and strong at the same time. A fragile but poisonous flower.

“Welcome back home, Y/N. In my hometown, which feels so foreign.” She sighed and sobbed.

“Are you alright?” The question left the Japanese prodigy’s mouth before he could have ever thought about it. The weather and scenery didn’t match the scene before his eyes. Sae felt a sharp feeling in his chest—was it empathy, care, love, or sympathy? He wasn’t sure. The urge to embrace the cute woman in the midfielder's arms strengthened every second.

“No, I am not.” That answer was enough for him. Fuck it. Let him do what his heart wants for the first time in a while. Even if it was reckless for himself and his own career, Sae Itoshi hugged Y/N. The young male would be damned if he left her there alone without anyone to lean on. It was certain. He would not allow her to feel the same way he did after his arrival in Spain. Young, alone, and inexperienced in life. Some people have physical homes, others have spiritual ones, and some are lucky enough to have both.

The male’s eyes widened when Y/N snuggled up to him. He stayed calm, but wrapped his muscular arms around the woman’s waist.

“Do you have anyone to rely on?” He carefully stroked the girl’s back while she sobbed.

“My parents are constantly not home; friends are abroad. My past is quite ominous, Sae… I had been the captain of the world’s best female prodigies in Rio de Janeiro. Everything ended when one of my teammates cheered. I was forced to disband the team. She shattered a glass trophy on my right arm; this is why it has been bandaged since then,” She revealed. “Barcelona is my hometown, but it feels so foreign.”

“...” Sae didn't answer; he just stroked Y/N’s back in a circular motion. “Shhh…” The girl started to sob again, this time into the older Itoshi’s chest. It didn’t bother him at all, contrary to what he thought earlier. Emotions were only an obstacle that prevented him from becoming the best. Maybe he was wrong. After all, within all his pride and coldness, Sae Itoshi wasn't a stranger to admitting his own mistakes.

“Sae…” Y/N’s voice took him out of his train of thought.

“Yes, querida?” The young male didn't notice that he used a nickname, which enhanced their proximity. However, the girl’s attention was somewhere else.

“Could we dance in the streets of Barcelona? Please, Sae. It has been my dream since I was a young girl.” She whispered her request. Sae’s heart started to beat faster, no matter how hard he tried to collect this organ.

“Yes…” Sae stood up first, helping the girl stand up. No matter how much he hated to admit it, he was still a caring person deep down. Behind the closed curtains and walls of ice, a warm heart beat. Sae Itoshi, in all his fame, glory, and achievements, existed as a human being, not a god.

The girl softly smiled at him and jumped slightly.

“There is a cozy area. Without paparazzi. I liked to go there when I was younger, with all of my troubles. The music always matches the feelings of a person!” Y/N exclaimed. Her e/c eyes examined Sae’s expression. When she checked for any signs of disapproval and found none, her precious smile brightened. The young woman intertwined her fingers with the man’s and showed him the way to the venue. “It’s here!”

The music played. The rays of the evening sun illuminated the area. Y/N had never seemed more ecstatic than in that moment. Her skin and eyes were shining due to the light. Sae’s heart must have stopped beating.

“美しい (utsukushii).” He whispered, not spotting Y/N’s curious gaze while she stared at the boy. Little did she know the word Sae said meant ‘beautiful’.

“Shall we dance?” The older Itoshi didn’t reply but instead began to dance with her. ‘Somewhere only we know’ by Keane was played. Spain indeed felt like an empty, foreign land for him. The feeling of the sea nearing comforted both of them. Even though Sae could remember the streets of Madrid and Barcelona by heart, they have never given him a sense of familiarity. Always a foreigner, no matter where he found himself. And it appeared Y/N felt the same. Both of them didn’t have a place to begin. The world, which was once a cruel and cold place, seemed to have warmed along with their dance.

Sae wrapped one arm around Y/N’s waist, signaling that he finally let her in. The other hand was intertwined with the girl’s. They kept on dancing in a comfortable place, such as the venue. They didn’t need any words to explain what they felt. The birds sang as the song continued. It wasn’t just a mere intimate moment, but an entanglement of souls. A lonely tear fell down Sae’s cheek. After so long, he found home in a woman. She was perfect. An angel. The light to his darkness, kindness to his mean nature. This was the place he had earned to find the sense of proximity that Sae Itoshi craved. After all that happened to him in Spain, the prodigy found happiness.

“Y/N… I-” He couldn’t continue his sentence. The world would be cursed if she didn’t feel the same way as he does. Was it the end of everything? Their last dance? Or the beginning of something new? Even the gods themselves wondered. That endearing smile of hers—how much he wished to shield it from the world. Sae didn’t dare break the silence anymore. The romantic lyrics made his heart pound harder as the music reached its climax. Their bodies together felt like poetry. Not a forbidden one. The destined one. Everything fit perfectly, and they moved in sync. And once the music ended, gathering up his whole courage, Sae Itoshi made the first move: he hugged Y/N, embracing her tightly.

“This has been wonderful... This song… It reminds me of you. Y/N.” He whispered as the tears fell down his cheeks. The young male was joyful when the girl let him embrace her. What he did not expect was the next question.

“Do you finally feel at home, Sae? Thousands of kilometers away from your motherland.” He nodded, still clinging to Y/N.

“I do feel like I am at home, Y/N. I feel like I finally found peace in your arms. That is what I have always longed for," he confessed. For the first time abroad, the boy felt at home. “Do you mind if we stay like this for a little longer?”

“Certainly not. We can hold onto each other forever.” The girl’s voice made him smile. He kept holding her close to his chest.

“I’ll be glad to stay like this forever.” He hugged her even tighter. The tears stopped streaming down his cheeks.

“I have a confession to make.”

“I am all ears.” He didn’t let go of the young woman.

“Barcelona has been my hometown since I was born. Currently, this city feels so foreign. The unfamiliarity terrified me. I had spent so much time abroad, resulting in my becoming a stranger here. However, today… I found peace with you. I finally feel at home.” Y/N revealed. She didn’t even stutter. Sae’s embrace tightened even more.

“You know that I feel the exact same way?” A chuckle escaped the midfielder’s mouth. “I think I actually feel at home too, with you.”

“Maybe we are each other's destiny? Who knows? It fills me with joy. To be with someone, I don’t have to spend a lifetime translating my soul.” The girl looked into Sae’s teal eyes. He caressed her cheek.

“It’s the most wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. Not having to translate my soul to you. Just one look, one thought, one word, and we understand each perfectly. I know I come off as rude, distant, and cold as well. We didn’t get off on the right foot. However, as the time went by, you showed me something more than a pretty girl with monstrous soccer skills—someone I could lean on. A person who became my home abroad.” Sae took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/N. And the world would be damned if my feelings were not reciprocated.”

There it was. She kissed him softly but passionately. The shock faded away quickly, and he returned the favor, tasting her lips for the first time. That day was his dream come true. He didn’t expect to fall in love and become smitten with someone. It didn’t matter now. After all, Sae Itoshi was still a human, even with all his medals and prizes.

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kyosmommy · 2 years

Text

Minors DNI

contains: friends to lovers, oral (fem receiving), tiddy worship, implied squirting

You aspired to be a great chef and open your own restaurant one day. So naturally you decided to work at a restaurant to get a feel for it. You decided that working with your best friend was your safest route considering he already owned his own restaurant. You ate here all the time anyways so what's the harm. Plus you know free food.

“Hey boss!” you teased, placing all your belongings in your usual spot in the kitchen. The back of the shop was all very home-like. The counters were filled with small nick nacks. Your favorite being the volleyball salt and pepper shakers.

“Hey pumpkin, bad news. We have to work pretty late today.” he spoke over his shoulder and continued cutting away at vegetables. There were small neat piles on his cutting board of all types of veggies.

“I don’t mind but may I ask why?” you questioned as you tied your apron strings. It was canvas colored with a small cartoon origini on it. He loved hearing you ramble about how cute it was.

“My stupid brother wants to pass by with his team which means 10 professional athletes will be eating here tomorrow. Hence all the sacks of rice on the counter,” he points to the table with rice cookers and rice bags lined up ready to be prepared. He places down the knife and walks over to you. “And who better to help me than my pretty little assistant.” He flashes you a taunting smile.

“Alright big guy, where do you want me?”

“Preferably on my bed but getting the meat from the freezer is fine too.” he blew you a comical kiss which you gladly caught and placed on your cheek with a fake lovey dovey sigh.

And so the day began. The third staff member was in charge of the front counter and attending to the guests while you and Osamu made the meals for tomorrow. He was a shy but funny highschool student looking to get some extra cash for video games. Osamu had a soft spot for him so he was often given raises. Hours flew by as the two of you made rice and all kinds of fillings to suit the players' tastes. There was endless chatter about random nonsense, some tv shows you both watch and a shit ton of middle school humor.

“Does it taste good? Or is it too salty?” you gave him a spoonful of the meat and sauce mix to try. You decided to try something new and surprise him, mixing his favorite meat in with his homemade sauce.

“That’s what she said.” he giggled at his own flat joke before trying it. “Hmm goof.” he hummed in satisfaction.

“Swallow!” He couldn’t handle it. He spit out the mix at your face and burst into laughter. Gripping your shoulders to stabilize himself.

“Do you think before you say these things!” He clutched his chest as his breath stabilized.

You gave him a sour look and so he shuffled over to grab his towel and clean your face off. Your eyes were closed as he worked away, wiping all the food off you. He stopped at the side of your cheek to admire your features. “Pretty” his voice was so hushed you didn’t hear him. He leaned in closer, your faces inches apart.

“Sir my shift is over and the shop is all closed up and clean so have a good day!” The poor kid knew he walked into something. He quickly waved goodbye and left as quickly as he came. Slamming the door on his way out.

“Yeah thanks kid, have a good ni- and he's gone. Alright let’s get back to work.”

“Good idea” you cleared your throat and looked away.

Things got really awkward after that. He stopped making eye contact and his terrible jokes stopped. You had to think of something to ease the tension. You still had so much to do and you couldn’t bear to have it be like this the whole time.

“Hey ‘samu can you help me over here real quick!” you shouted from the sinks at the wash station. They were in a separate room to the rest of the kitchen so that spilt water can go down the floor drains. Which you thought was genius of him.

“Yeah whatcha need.” The second he turned the corner you sprayed him with the handheld nozzle. “Oh so that’s how we’re playing.”

He grabbed a nearby cup and filled it, chasing you around for a bit trying to catch you. When he finally caught up to you he wrapped an arm around you from behind and drenched your shirt, laughing into your neck. You couldn't help but laugh along. Your laugh made his chest feel all warm.

The water had soaked through the apron and your shirt, making your shirt translucent. He could see everything from his view above you. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’s always had a thing for you and this wasn't making it any easier.

“Didn’t take you as the lace bra type.” His grip on you tightened slightly. “I’m so glad I made the staff uniform white” his hands come up to grope your pretty tits. Pushing them up and releasing them. “You’re gorgeous, you know that.”

“Can’t tell if you’re talking to me or my tits and my shirt’s still soaked.” he softly chuckled.

“Both.” he whispered into the shell of your ear. “Can I make it up to you? Maybe help you clean up?” his hand slowly trailed down to rest in your inner thigh.

“M’yeah.” You hummed in approval. His hand came behind to undo your apron knot, letting it fall gently to the floor.

“Spread your legs for me baby.” his hands smoothed over your stomach before making their way into your pants. “You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this.” He rubbed small circles at your clit, eliciting satisfied hums to fall from your lips.

You’ve always thought he was hot but god did he just go from a 10 to 50 real quick. “Oh so you planned this, didn’t you pretty boy? Asking me to stay late, all the little hints.” you tried your best to make your voice not sound strained.

“Maybe a little, all with your permission of course.” His other hand made work of your shirt buttons. Taking in all you had to offer when your shirt finally came off. You were so pretty to him. All your small gimmicks and reactions to situations had him so in love.

“Ah. Such a gentleman.” a small moan escaped your lips when his fingers ghosted your entrance. You gripped his forearm and he stopped immediately, looking for any signs of discomfort or hesitance.

“Are you ok?” His voice was soft.

“Yeah can we just adjust positions?” you dropped your head back onto his shoulder.

He had a moment of thought, resting his head against yours. “Do you trust me?”

“One hundred percent.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“God fuck! Right there!” your head knocks back into the wall and hips roll into his face. He doesn’t hold back any sounds either, grunting and obscene licking were the only things echoing in the room. He absolutely loved this. It was so messy. Cum and spit dribble down your thighs and onto the floor, his face was slick with your cum and he adored it. He could cum from this alone.

He’s had you against the wall with both thighs wrapped around his face for about 30 minutes now. His idea of trusting him was just another way to show off his strength. Gripping at your thighs like it’s his life line. You thrash against the wall, pawing at his hair and shoulders.

“‘Samu s’too much.” your words were barely understandable at this point. He had reduced you to a babbling mess. He hummed into you and that’s all it took. Your orgasm came crashing down hard. You didn’t even notice what you had done at first.

He looked up at you with cum dripping off his face and chin. The proud smirk on his face made you squirm in embarrassment.

“Hey pumpkin, I said I would help you clean up the mess. But I think made a bigger one.”

#old reposts♧#ignore me recycling old fics #miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #osamu smut #osamu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu drabbles

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merotwst · 1 year

Note

Lol that concept is the best

SERIOUSLY!!!! ANGEL'S AN ABSOLUTE GENIUS FOR WHAT THEYVE GIVEN ME I OWE THEM MY LIFE.

let's just say jamil and reader are the same age in this one alr?

i have not considered this until now and it will make for a very good fic idea ughh i cant wait to get back to writing. but imagine, being childhood friends with najma, right? you're always at her house, you're always hanging out with her when she has free time. you see her brother a lot, but never really seemed to mind him. he always seemed more busy than najma for some reason.

throughout middle school, you still saw him around but he had his own group of friends and so you never really got close but whenever you came over he'd serve you something to eat. you're a good family friend after all and eventually you also saw him as a brother figure but only from a distance.

then he had to go to night raven college and you haven't seen him at all. najma would occasionally bring him up, but you never really thought about him too much until... al'ab nariya. you go over to come pick najma up from their place. you open the door and lounge about the couch or somewhere while waiting for her and a familiar voice just sneaks up from behind you. OH NO. WHEN DID HE GET HOT. SINCE WHEN WAS HE HOT??????????????

oh god oh god.... crushing on your best friend's brother that's so weird and uncomfortable just shove ur feelings down into a box and bury it deep somewhere and NO NOT unearth it.

but everytime he and you would talk while you waited for his sister, or you and him find yourselves walking around the festival together, catching up. or when he invites you to dance with him. the feelings just start resurfacing by themselves and you're slowly losing your mind as the box erupts into a thousand flashing lights in your heart. like the fireworks that reflect on his eyes as you watch them dazzle underneath the bright, shimmering sky.

it was just such a magical feeling. but just hold out until he has to go back to school. you won't see him again. you won't talk to him in a while. out of sight, out of mind, you tell yourself.

now, how will you cope when you see a notification pop up on your phone from a viper—the older viper?

#. meromess #. merowrites #kapukinginahan neto #i love this so much im crying #if no one writes about this ill write it myself #AGAIN TYSM YESNO I LOVE U!!!!#jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

Text

Young Love

Summary: After getting sent away by your father nearly two years ago, you return to your hometown, Outer Banks.

You reunite with your friends and twin brother, John B, and help them find the lost gold and the Cross of Santo Domingo. But, during it all, you find yourself falling in love with your brothers blue-eyed best friend without realising it.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Language, violence

Last Chapter

Chapter 18-

Within the span of ten minutes, you and JJ were hooking up the jumper leads from the train track to the green flashing lights.

"Let's fry this sucker." JJ said, clipping on the last lead.

You looked up at the green lights, expecting them to switch to red, but nothing happened. The jumper leads didn't do anything.

"Okay, that's what he would do. That's literally what my... So then it would change red- oh my God." JJ rambled, pulling his cap off his head while he tried to think. "Okay, what if I blockaded the track? That's what I would do. Maybe put a tree?"

You blocked out JJs frantic out loud thinking as you stared at the jumper leads on the track before an idea hit you.

"Wait, the train touches both sides of the track." You suddenly said, ending JJs anxious rambling before you unhooked one of the clips and walked over to the other side and clipped it back on.

You both looked back up at the green flashing lights, hoping, praying that it would flick to red.

The train horn was blaring in the distance, getting closer and closer by the second. Your heartbeat began to skyrocket as you stared at the lights until it suddenly turned red and instant relief washed over you.

"That's what I'm talking about!" JJ cheered, high-fiving you. "You're a genius. I was gonna do that."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I know. It's all you, J." You agreed with a shit eating grin spreading across your face causing him to laugh.

The two of you hid back behind the trees beside his motorbike, waiting for the train and to your relief, the train came to a sudden halt in front of the red lights.

Not long later, a truck with railroad workers inside showed up. They pulled the jumper leads off, the flashing red light instantly changing back to green while you and JJ remained hidden behind the trees, unable to stop them.

"The trains starting." JJ observed, watching as the train slowly started to take off. "There goes the plan. We gotta help them."

He mounted his motorbike and you quickly jumped on the back, but before he could start the bike, a black truck suddenly sped straight past the two of you.

"That's Top." JJ said, watching the truck go before noticing the giant wooden crate in the back of it. "And that's the cross. Let's go."

He turned the key, bringing the bike to life before he tapped it into gear and you wrapped your arms around his stomach, holding on as he sped after the truck.

You got back into the main road, trailing right behind the truck before you heard the faint sound of police sirens wailing from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, hoping you were just hearing things, but then you saw the bright flashing lights of a cop car following you. Shit.

"JJ! The cops!" You shouted above the bike’s engine.

"I know. I know."

He sped the bike up, pulling out alongside Topper's truck. Pope and Cleo were sitting in the back of the truck beside the wooden crate, staring at the two of you in confusion.

"Top, keep going straight!" JJ shouted, inching the bike closer to his vehicle.

Topper stuck his head out the window, looking back at you guys in panic and shouting something that you couldn't hear.

"JJ, what's the plan? What are you doing?" You asked nervously because you had a horrible feeling you knew what he was about to say.

"Get ready to jump."

Yep, you were right. Damnit.

"What?!" Pope exclaimed from the bed of the truck, not liking that idea either.

"Are you insane?!" You shouted at him.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" JJ shot back, glancing over his shoulder at you before focusing back on the road in front. "Just get ready to jump."

Pope leant out the side of the truck, Cleo holding the back of his shirt for stability as he held his arms out towards you. "Come on, come on. I got you, I've got you. Come on."

This was a bad idea. A horrible idea even. But, you trusted JJ and you trusted Pope to help you. What could go wrong? Actually no, don't think about it. It was fine. You were going to be totally fine.

Taking a deep breath, you carefully began to stand up on the back of his bike, your hand gripping JJs shoulder for dear life.

"Y/N, what are you doing?!" Sarah and Kie shouted from the cab of the truck, looking through the back window at you.

Yep, you are asking yourself the same question.

"Easy. Easy. Be careful." Pope warned, reaching out and grabbing your other arm before you leaped off the bike and landed on the wooden crate.

Cleo quickly grabbed your shoulders, Pope never letting go of your hand as you climbed over the crate and sat down between the two of them, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you good?"

Pope and Cleo frantically questioned, and you nodded breathlessly, still trying to process the fact that you just did that.

"Is she okay? Did she make it?" You heard Topper question from inside the truck.

Sarah and Kie smiled at you through the back window of the truck before you turned to see JJ slowing his bike down to a complete stop in the middle of the road.

"Wait, what is he doing?" You asked, panic rising in your voice.

"I don't know. I don't think he knows either." Pope answered.

JJ leant down, picking up a rock from the ground before he began speeding straight for the cop car. He threw the rock at the front screen of the car as he sped past causing the police vehicle to come to a screeching halt before turning and driving after him.

He was trying to distract the police. Shit. There was no way he could get rid of them. They were too close. He was going to get arrested, again. You couldn't let that happen.

"Topper!" You shouted, banging on the back window to get his attention. "Turn around! We have to go get him!"

"Stop the truck!" Pope shouted, backing you up.

Kie and Sarah began yelling at him to turn around and get JJ as well. A few seconds later, he pulled over and turned the truck around, heading back in the direction you had just came.

Topper sped down the main road, but JJ and the cops were too far ahead.

"Go faster!" You all screamed causing Topper to slam his hands against the steering wheel in frustration before putting his foot down.

"Where is he?" You questioned aloud, frantically searching the dark roads trying to see any flashing lights or sirens, but you couldn't see or hear them anywhere.

"He's up on the overpass!" Sarah suddenly shouted.

You turned around, looking over the top of the truck at the bridge above you where you could see the police lights flashing, but there was no sign of JJ.

"Are you sure-" You began to say when suddenly the motorbike crashed into the side railing of the overpass. "No!"

There was nothing you could do except watch as the bike came crashing down in slow motion, hitting the bitumen road in front of you. The debris from the railing fell and you watched in numbed fear as it landed on the bike, crushing it.

You recoiled in horror at the loud noise the metal frame of the bike made, and your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Topper slammed on the brakes, the truck coming to a sudden halt. You were jumping off the side of the truck instantly, your legs threatening to give out as you sprinted over to the wreckage.

"JJ!" You cried out in a voice raw with terror.

The others were all shouting for JJ, searching the area for his body as you stared at the destroyed bike on the ground in front of you.

A violent sob escaped your lips, and you covered your mouth with shaky hands as you struggled to breathe.

No. No. No. This couldn't have happened. No, he wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"No, no, no, no." You mumbled, hot tears pouring down your face as your legs gave out and you dropped to the ground on your knees.

Kie knelt beside you, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she rested her hand on your shoulder.

"I wish I could say that I did that on purpose, but that was the gnarliest power-slide I've ever done."

Your head snapped up at the sound of that voice and your jaw dropped when you saw JJ stumble out from nowhere with a big smile.

"You're alive!" Pope shouted, rushing over and hugging him.

"Shit. That was gnarly!" Topper exclaimed.

Sarah shoved JJ in the chest causing him to grunt in surprise before she hugged him. Slowly, you stood yourself back up on shaky legs as Sarah stepped away from him and JJ looked over at you. The smile on his face softened when he saw the tears falling down your face.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." He said, walking across the road to you.

Your chin trembled as you took a stumbling step towards him before JJ engulfed you into a tight hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, trying to muffle your sobs as you cried into him.

"I-I thought... I thought..."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry." He whispered, cupping the back of your head as he hugged you. "I'm here. It's okay, I'm still here, baby. I'm still here."

"The pleasantries are nice, but we should really get out of here." Pope said in the background somewhere.

Slowly, JJ untangled his arms from around you before he cupped your face with his hands, brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Look at me. Y/N, baby, look at me." He said gently and you lifted your head, your eyes meeting his piercing blue ones. "I'm here. I'm right here, but we need to go, okay? We need to go."

You nodded, sniffing before JJ grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the truck while the others all quickly climbed inside.

"Hey! You kids, don't move! Stay right there! I said, stay right there!" A Police Officer shouted from on top of the bridge, looking down at you all.

Everyone piled into the cab of the truck, squished together like Sardines in a tin while Topper sped off in the opposite direction.

You were barely driving for a minute before Hopper hit a bump in the road and with the speed he was going, the wooden crate fell out the back of the truck. It landed in the middle of the road, and you all rushed out, but came to a sudden stop when you realised that the lid had busted open, and the cross wasn't inside.

It was a fake.

The cross was never inside. You had been risking your lives for a fake. You stole a fake. Typical.

The group decided to lay low for the night. Wanting to stay clear of the cops and to make sure they were off your tail before you went home.

You ended up sleeping in the truck for a few hours. Topper parked it out in the woods, off the main road. By dusk, he was dropping you all off at your shack before returning to Figure 8 to explain to his father why the truck was covered in scratches.

The group of you all walked up the long dirt driveway to the shack, but you paused when you saw the Twinkie parked in front of the house.

Your brother and father were finally back.

JJ noticed your sudden nerves and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours for silent comfort before you walked up to the house together.

The others all instantly greeted your father, reuniting with him as he smiled and laughed like he was the happiest and friendliest man on the planet, but you knew it was just an act. John B walked down the porch steps, a six pack of beer in his hands to celebrate the reunion, but he had an uneasy look on his face.

To anyone else, they probably wouldn't have noticed. But you knew your twin. Something was wrong.

To his credit though, his face broke out into a smile, a mask slipping into place as he cheered and handed out drinks, pretending that everything was fine. But, you knew it wasn’t. Something was really troubling him, and you were almost certain that it had something to do with your father.

After the reuniting, you all sat down on the foldout chairs outside. Pope and Sarah explained what went down with the train and fake cross before John B explained what him and Big John had been doing, but said the lead had been a dead end.

The happy mood everyone had been in moments earlier all crashed and burned at the news. Pope and Cleo left, Kie hitching a ride with them to go back to her parents while JJ went over to the docks to 'go fishing' but you knew he just wanted to give your family some privacy, but wanted to be nearby in case Big John tried anything.

John B walked away from where you all had been sitting, Sarah quickly following, leaving you sitting there while your father laid in the hammock a few metres away.

He didn't try to speak to you, so you didn't speak to him. You just sat there, fiddling with JJs ring on your necklace, waiting for Sarah to leave so you could talk to your brother privately and find out what was really going on.

It wasn't long before Sarah suddenly stormed off. Her and John B clearly having some kind of argument. You watched her ride off on a bicycle before you walked over to your brother, who hastily wiped the tears from his eyes when he heard you coming.

"Let's go take a walk." You whispered, wrapping your arm over his shoulders and leading him over to the woods, out of earshot from your father.

John B didn't say anything, didn't even try to fight, and allowed you to lead him away before you eventually stopped and turned his body towards you.

"What happened?"

"I said something awful to Sarah... I didn't mean it though." He whispered, shaking his head angrily at himself.

"That's not what I'm talking about." You replied causing him to frown at you in confusion. "Don't look at me like that, bro. You know what I'm talking about. You might have fooled the others, but you can't fool your twin. Something happened. Something with our father. What was it?"

A million different emotions washed over John B’s face, but they were gone before you could place any of them. Your brother sighed, running shaky fingers through his hair before he turned, looking away from you.

You remained silent, giving him some time to speak as you stared out at the ocean in the distance, watching JJ cast a rod out, fishing on the dock.

"I was right." John B said quietly, still refusing to look at you.

"Right about what?"

"Dad has changed. I was right, but... he didn't change for the better."

Sudden dread filled your stomach at his words, and you glanced back at him just as John B turned to face you. His eyes were glistening with tears and your heart shattered seeing him look so numb, so helpless, so sad.

"What did he do? Did he hurt you?" You asked, anger rising through your veins.

"He... he killed two people."

Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn't that.

Your brain short circuited for a moment before you shook your head, "tell me everything that happened."

John B explained it all, the tears in his eyes silently falling down his face as he relived what happened out in the water on the boat and Jet Ski.

Big John had straight up murdered two men. You knew your father wasn't a good person, but you didn't think he would ever do something like that.

"He put you in danger. You got into a fight with smugglers, he made you an accomplice to two murders, he made you try to rob an old lady and he trespassed and stole from a museum with you?" You asked, trying to clarify all the facts.

John B sighed, but nodded. "He wants to find El Dorado. He wants the gold for us, you and me. To make us rich."

"So killing two men and sinking their bodies is somehow justified then?" You asked, raising your eyebrows, hating how despite everything Big John put him through, your brother was still trying to defend him.

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Okay, good." You said, turning and marching back towards the shack.

"Whoa. Wait, wait, Y/N, what are you doing? Don't make this a big deal, please. I'm fine, okay? I was a little upset and shaken, yes. But, I'm fine. Don't do anything." John B begged, jogging after you, but you kept walking.

Big John heard you coming, he tilted his head up towards you before he looked away and closed his eyes, going back to relaxing under the sun in his hammock.

"Get the fuck up." You ordered, folding your arms across your chest.

"Nah, I'm pretty comfy here."

"Like how those men you shot and murdered are comfy at the bottom of the ocean floor?" You spat, venom thick in your voice.

Big John's eyes snapped open, and you glared down at him. Yeah, this conversation was not going to end well.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST in bio

Commissions open! Link in bio ❤️

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #rudy pankow #john b routledge

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