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bimbosandbubbles · 7 months

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Truth or Dare?

Starring Bully Gojo and Geto

Synopsis- It’s freshmen year of college and for Gojo and Geto the year has been a little too boring—sure it’s only the first semester but c’mon it’s their first year being university students so why not make the year unforgettable? And for that reason they find themselves playing a dangerous game of truth or dare with their friends—a game that led them to YOU,their best form of oh so interesting entertainment.

Warning’s-noncon,dubcon,spitting,hair pulling,slapping,slight fingering,misogynistic behavior,filming noncon, double penetration,extreme humiliation,pussy eating,heavy degrading, creampie,breeding kink, multiple sexual scenes(not really sex happening),stalking,yandere,obsessive behaviors,thigh fucking, fatphobia,abuse of power(Gojo’s money and Geto’s connections),pussy slapping,emotional manipulation,blackmail,shoe licking,shoe fucking,extremely humiliating acts ,hairy pussy,stalking,rimming,loss of virginity,EXTREMELY SADISTIC BEHAVIOR!! TW THIS IS ALL FICTION! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ CHUBBY READER!

Wc-7.8k(Guys I cut off 6k more words to shorten the fic😭)

“Truth or dare?”

A white haired man turns to a man with long raven black hair,"What do you think Sugu'? Truth or dare?"

The male hums in thought,"I think truth,after all it's only the beginning of the game." Snow like hair bobs in acknowledgment,"Okay,we pick truth."

A wide smirk grows on the integrators face,"How many bitches have you fucked together?" Geto chuckles,"Do you always have to be so uncouth Naoya?" The said man shrugs,"That doesn't matter,just answer the fuckin question."

Geto decides to humor the man,for his and his best friends entertainment mostly. "Gojo how many would you say?" Gojo sighs—lazily leaning his lanky yet muscled frame against the back of a beat up couch. "Since we get here...uhhh probably like four. In high school probably like six."

"You've ever filmed any of em?" Naoya asks. Geto raises a neatly done brow up,"Why are you asking?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"I'm just askin there's no real reason behind it." Gojo looks at Geto from the side of his eye,"Sugu' it's not that big of a deal to answer. Plus it's not like we have filmed any of them."

"I guess." Mutters Geto. Gojo loudly claps his hands and paints on a goofy smile onto his face. "Anyways...Naoya truth or dare?" The man sits back in wonder before answering,"Dare."

"Okay! I dare you to call the one girl in your phone that you'd have to be paid like a million dollars to ever fuck anddddd you have to ask her to send a pic of herself." Naoya voices annoyedly,"How the hell do I get her to send a pic of herself?"

Geto smartly suggests,"Lie.Make something up." The man with highlighted hair smirks,"That shouldn't be hard. She's a dumb bitch anyways."

Naoya scrolls through his contacts list and spots a contact dubbed "Piggy." Geto and Gojo lean over his shoulders to see the view and both of them wince once seeing the name. "She's fat?" Gojo asks. Naoya snickers,"Oh fuck yeah! She's fucking big as hell! I could never stick my dick in her."

Gojo chuckles,"I couldn't fuck a fat girl,seems like too much work." Geto adds on,"Yeah they're not really my type either....there's just too much everywhere for me." Naoya agrees as he presses on the contact,"They're all usually fucking ugly anyways. So it doesn't really matter."

Noaya's fingers press on the call symbol while he lets out one final chuckle. He presses one finger to his lips,signaling the pair of friends to shut up. The man finally calls and the phone rings three times before it finally picks up.Naoya makes sure to put the phone on speaker. "Hello?" A sleepy voice calls out. "Hello (Reader)."

"Naoya what're you calling me so late for? I thought we finished everything for the project?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"Yeah well our introduction project isn't finished yet,I still need you to do something." Geto and Gojo don't miss the biting tone he speaks to you in. "Oh um well..I'm sorry I didn't think I missed anything."

"She sounds cute." Gojo whispers in the ravenettes ear. "Mmm." Geto hums in agreement. "Yeah you should be sorry. But luckily for you I'm nice so I'll allow you to still do it."

"Thank you? But anyways what do you need me to do?" Naoya smiles while looking back at the men," I need a picture of you." For a moment there's static silence—a silence that's riddled with confusion. "Umm why do you need a picture of me? Our project has nothing to do with ourselves."

"It's to prove our teamwork to the professor uhh how well we got along and shit like that." It's quiet until Naoya receives a dinging notification. "There you go,bye." The phone loudly hangs up while Naoya's jaw clenches in anger. "Fucking bitch hung up before I could."

"That doesn't matter show us the pic." Gojo says impatiently. "Fineee." The male opens up his messages and soon as he does he snickers. "I don't know why she tried to send me cute a one,she looks fucking stupid." Wrong. Naoya was so fucking wrong.

You don't look fucking stupid...you look so fucking cute. Your have such a pretty face—a face that needs to be came on. Those adorable fucking pudgy cheeks are just begging to be decorated with cum. And fuck those pretty lips you got—both Geto and Gojo just wanted to stick their dicks in your mouth.

They can't even see your body in the picture but they just know it's so fuckable. What do you have a cute pudge hanging down—a pouch of flesh keeping your pussy warm? Do you have warm doughy thighs that their fingers will just sink into the moment they touch the flesh? You just look so...soft. So wonderfully soft—plenty of soft sweet palpable skin just begging to be marked by them.

But despite Gojo's and Geto's shared thoughts—the lustful and wanton thoughts they wouldn't say that they want to fuck the ever living life out of you. They wouldn't disagree with Naoya saying you look fucking stupid. They wouldn't even admit they think you're attractive. Why? Because admitting a mere few minutes ago that you wouldn't fuck a fat girl and then switching up isn't the best look.

So what do the pair say when Naoya says that? Do they disagree and defend you? Do they admit the pure desire they have to want to be inside you? No they say," You're right she looks weird,let's just move onto the next round."

━━━━

"I didn't just leave her on the frats lawn! I at least gave her some cash to get herself home." Naoya proudly states.

"Wow,Noaya thank you so much for not being the worlds biggest douche." Geto states sarcastically.

"Whatever, don't act like you two aren't assholes yourselves. You may fool a bunch of bitches but I know how you really are." Geto peers at Gojo,the man beside him. They both give each other a knowing look—a shared thought surging through the kept gaze. A gaze that screamed,"We're aware of what dicks we can be." Huge dicks who have left girls high and dry after telling them they love them—spewing lies straight from hell just to get their cocks wet a few times.

But are they really dicks if no one really cares to point out they are? Are they really assholes when women flock towards them even though it's known they'll only use them like a human fleshlight? They could thank their good looks,popularity,and Gojo's plentiful wealth for never being confronted for just how cruel they could really be.

Geto smirks,"I guess you could say we are assholes but at least we appear to be nice ones." Gojo hums,"Mhm but anyways it's your turn to ask us."

Naoya sits there,clutching his face in devious thought. "If you guys pick dare,you won't pussy out with anything I say,right?"

"Nah as long as it's nothing too illegal." Gojo answers. "Good cause I got something in mind. Truth or Dare?" The two best friends stare at each other once more,silently agreeing on an answer,"Dare."

Naoya laughs,acting like he just had the best idea in the whole world. "You fuckers set yourself up. This is going to be sooo funny." Gojo rolls his eyes,"Yeah,yeah,just get to the damn dare."

"I dare you to fuck with little miss piggy for me." Naoya cruelly states. "That girl you just showed us?" Gojo asks." The question had a little too much enthusiasm,too much excitement for some girl he said looked weird. Hopefully it went unnoticed by Naoya though. "Yes that bitch."

"We'll do it but lemme ask why you wanna bother her?" Geto questions. The male shrugs,"Do I need a reason? She's annoying." Geto hums,"Alright I guess that's a good enough answer. But what's on the table for fucking with her?" The white haired male perks up at that,"Ooo yeah? How much can we bother her?"

"I don't really give a shit about what you do to her. Just ruin her,make her miserable. The only thing I want is some evidence that you're doing at least something."

Make her miserable,huh? Ruin her? Does that include every part of you? Because Geto and Gojo had something wonderful in mind...just for lil ole you.

"Oh yeah,we can definitely do that." They both remark.

━━━━

"Okay,I think this is the last book I need." You whisper to yourself. See,today is a good day! Why? Because this is the day you're almost done researching for a extremely tedious paper. That means for just a few days you wouldn't have to shove countless information down your throat anymore.

So naturally your chubby hands reaches to grab the book that's placed on the fourth shelf. Just as your finger grazed the spine of the book a tall figure grabs it from behind you. Quickly you turn and see a raven haired man,staring at the book with faux interest.

"Umm, I'm sorry I was gonna grab that...it's really important that I have it." You say politely. The male raises a thin brow,"Is it not important for me too? I might need it even more than you do." Immediately you feel yourself heat up from embarrassment," Oh no no! I didn't mean it like that—I just really really need that book. Im so sorry if I came off uncaring."

Cute. Geto's just starting the fun with you and he already wants to stuff his dick in your mouth. You don't even need to worry about some dumb book,you could just warm his cock all day. Besides the way your dressed right now it's like you want him to tear your clothes off and fuck you. Those denim shorts that are showing off those thick thighs and that damn thin white tank top you got on really shows a lot he wants to see. The pudge of your tummy just clings to the fabric so deliciously—it's tempting so tempting for the man to just reach out and grip the pudge but he resists the urge.

But still despite how cute he finds you,he still needs to make your little life unbearable. So he says,"Well I need this book more." With that he "kindly" smiles and walks off. He leaves you there,mouth agape and eyes wide. Did he really just—DID HE JUST TAKE THE BOOK?

Angrily you call out,"Hey! I need that book." The man continues walking,ignoring you completely. With a mission you charge after the male,keeping his speedy pace until you bump right into someone. Broken from the determined haze you were just in you look and see the person you slammed into.

It's odd,you swear no one was in front of you before and then suddenly someone just came in front of you. No matter how weird it really is though,apologizing and catching up with the book thief is more important.

"Omg I'm so sorry! Are you okay! I was just in a rush—" The very tall man you just bumped into places a long finger on your lips. The sheer boldness of the action instantly shutting you up. "I don't wanna hear it. Ya know,you should definitely be more careful. People are not as nice as me."

He leans down,shortening his noticeable height ,"But since I'm sooo nice all I'm gonna ask if you to beg on your knees for my forgiveness." The hell? Who does this guys think he is? The president? You weren't gonna beg for forgiveness just for bumping into someone?! Hell no!

" Look I'm sorry, but I'm not doing all that just for bumping into you! Don't you hear how fucking crazy you sound?" You snatch his finger away from your lips and cross your arms angrily. He chuckles,"Oh so you wanna act all tough? Fine,I didn't wanna threaten you this early,that was gonna be some fun for later but since you're a lil stubborn I guess the hard way is for you."

Your brows pinch together in frustration and confusion. Who is this guy? Acting like he's all high and mighty? Can he even threaten you when he doesn't know you? Yeah,right. You're sick of this already.

You attempt to move past the male,too sick and tired of precious time being taken away from you. But you're stopped by a veiny large hand that's securely wrapped your wrist. He yanks you to his chest,"Ya know,it's not very nice to walk away while someone's talking to you.I thought you were a polite girl." His warm breath travels all the way to the back of your neck. It's oddly...intimate and sexual for someone you just encountered.

"Be a good girl and beg or else I'll get you out of this university so fucking fast and then I'll tell someone in every single university in the radius you're a fucking cheat. I can go even farther than that if that doesn't scare you enough." He mutters. Chills run across your spine—it's scary,the threat,it holds so much weight but no way some guy you just bumped into has the power to do that,right?

"Y-You can't do that!" The exclamation is a unsteady one,you yourself not even believing that. For some reason this stranger just oozes so much effortless authority—so much power that's unexplainable. It's confusing but still it instills some type of fear in you. "Oh can't I?" His tone is cocky—assured fully in just what exactly he's capable of. Scary—it's scary how confident he's in ruining your educational career.

"Are you taking me a little serious now,hmm? Do you think you should take my good grace and get on your knees already?" It's no big deal,right? If you just get on your knees now,you'd probably never see the man again. This university is big and no way the man would make an attempt to find you—a complete stranger.

Would a little humiliation be so bad if you never see him again? "Are you? Or are you gonna just stand there like an idiot?" Nervously you gulp before facing the man and sinking down to your knees. As you level yourself at his feet you can't help but stare at the rich brown leather that his shoes are made of.

You look up at him and instantly Gojo's glad he chose to his dark sunglasses today. He could feel his pupil dilate as soon so you kneeled for him. Everything about you looked sooo good on your knees—those pretty lips parted slightly because of nerves—your thick thighs squishing together and fuck those gorgeous tits that are just peeking out of your tank top,just begging to be fondled with his big hands.

"Are you gonna start begging or do I gotta force your mouth to move too?" You shake your head no and gulp down a lot of pride and self respect. "Please uhhh—" you pause to search for the man's name. "Gojo. It's Gojo."

"Gojo,please forgive me. It was a mistake and I'm so so sorry." You think your apology is good enough but what you think isn't always right. The man scoffs as a big hand completely palms the whole crown of your head—pushing your body to bend straight down. The tip of your nose kisses the carpeted floor of the library.

" Ah,ah, You're supposed to lean all the way down like a good girl,yeah? Now do it again." Your clammy and stubby hands angrily and tearfully grip the fine hair of the carpet. This is just so...humiliating it hurts every ounce of self respect you have contained in your body.

"Gojo,please forgive me. I'm so sorry." He hums and places his large hand on your head,"I forgive you...for now." With that the man removes his hand and quickly announces his exit. "Thank you for the apology,don't be so clumsy next time."

You watch as his long limber legs make their way farther and farther away from you. Your nose still kisses the carpet—a reminder of the humiliation that was just acted on by the man casually strolling away. The humiliation being so damn demeaning you no longe care for retrieving your much needed book back.

But it would be okay,right? It would be okay cause you'll never see Gojo again. You haven't seen him before and you won't see him again.

You could just move on from this right? Is the thought you have as your eye stay trained on his brown leather shoes.

━━━━

Have you ever been more more wrong before? So irritatingly wrong?

Because both the mysterious man who unfortunately learned is Geto, and Gojo from the library have not left you alone since.

Everywhere you go there they are! Always calling you mean names,like slut or whore. Always taking away your stuff away from you. Always threatening you. And worse—always finding you.

And that is the exact reason why you're stuck between the two—pushed against a random wall in a hallway. "You wanna runaway from me and Geto,some more? Huh,(Reader)?"

You shake your head rapidly and squeak as Gojo's large hand reaches out and grips your tucked pudge that's hidden well within the high waisted material. "D-Don't grip me like that!" You squeak. "Like what? Like a slut? Cause you are a little slut." Gojo remarks.

"I'm not a slut!" Your words are met with chuckles,true genuine laughter for something that wasn't even a joke. "Mmm then why are you always with those lil dorks after hours? You prolly let them cum in you. You prolly let them spit in your pussy and mouth,don't you slut?"

You start to tear up and resist Gojo's grip but it only gets tighter. "Maybe you wouldn't see me hanging out with my friends if you guys weren't always stalking me! Just leave me alone! You don't even know me! I've never even done anything to you!"

"You think we're stalking you? You think we're genuinely interested in someone like you?" Geto chuckles. "Yeah,we know you're a little slow but to think that is on another level of delusion." Gojo adds. Liars,the both of them know that they're watching you. Keeping tabs on every single move you make,every person you talk to,every time you go out,anything—just so they know when to strike. They told themselves it's not cause they like what they do to—they don't like seeing you beg and plead,they don't like humiliating to the brink of tears—absolutely not. Liars.

"Oh and you've never done anything to us? Hmm,I can remember you fighting for that book pretty hard. I think you may have pushed me,right Gojo? You saw her push me?" Gojo hums,"Hmmm,yeah I swear I saw her. She was so mean to you. And not to mention she didn't even wanna apologize to me for rudely bumping into me."

"What the fuck??! I didn't even push him! I know for a fact I didn't! And last time I checked you just randomly popped up and bumped into me!" You make sure to face backwards and points towards Gojo. "Ah,Ah she's got a little potty mouth,doesn't she Gojo?"

"Mhm,that's not very ladylike (Reader)." Gojo says. "We can't have that,can we?" Behind you the white haired male shakes his head. Gojo's lengthy fingers dig into your tummy even more,sinking the dull tips of his nails deeper.

"You should learn not to talk like that but don't worry Gojo and I will help you learn,m'kay?" How? How—can someone look so kind,so calm while plotting to do something humiliating to you? It doesn't' matter how or why because Geto is still standing over you—kind smile and welcoming eyes gently intimidating you.

"So,open your mouth like a good girl for me and say ahh!" Geto demands. You shake your head no and quickly tuck your lips together. He tuts—disapproving of your stubbornness. "You wanna make it hard for yourself—Fine be that way then. But you will open your mouth for me."

Geto's relative distance to you shortens as he walks closer and closer to you—pushing your body against Gojo's even more. "Gojo pull up her shirt."

"No—NO! D-Don't!" You thrash against Gojo but once more he tightens his grip on your pudge. "You should've listen to Sugu the first time." Gojo mutters as he lifts up your shirt revealing a pastel pink bra. The glasses adorning man whistles,"Is that lace? Who are you wearing that for? Hmm? Is it for me and Sugu,little slut?"

"N-No!" You whimper. "Oh so it's for somebody else?" Geto asks. "No." You reply back. "Mmm so you're wearing something"—Geto's large hand reaches to pinch the strap of the bra—"this pretty just for no one to see it? I don't believe that."

"I think just for her lying you should give her double punishment." Gojo encourages. "Yeah? I think so too. Lil slut won't learn if we aren't a little hard on her."

"Gojo make her open her mouth." Geto says as if they share the same brain—having the same thoughts riddling their in synced minds. Long fingers trace their way down your tummy,teasing the beginning of where your high waisted pants start until finally a loud gasp collapses off your tongue when they're pulled down—revealing the smooth fat that rests on your middle.

You think he's gonna start groping your boobs but instead the pale hands begin gripping your tummy—kneading the skin oh so well that his fingers mush into it. "Oh!" You gasp. And it's cute ,so cute that Gojo's dicks throbs in his loose fitting jeans. Would you make that noise when he puts it inside you? When he makes you swallow his spit? How about when he makes you hump his big thigh while in public?

Gojo's taken away from his thoughts once he hears Geto's familiar voice. "Mmm you got her to open her mouth." Geto hums in approval,"Look at how good her mouth looks open. I think she really is a little slut."

The black haired man pulls your cheeks apart and sticks his middle appendage in your mouth—your tongue crashing against the skin like a giant wave. "Mhmpp!" You move against Gojo once more,droplets of salty tears starting to pour out of you. "Shhh don't fight...take your punishment."

You watch in horror as Geto puckers his lips and translucent liquid drips down his lips—realizing that his lips start getting closer and closer to you.

Until finally you feel wet—degrading liquid coat your lax tongue. The cool saliva coats your mouth,traveling the whole expanse of your open cavern.

"Swallow." You know it's not a question or even a pushy request—it's a command. A reminder that you're under their thumbs like a mouse who's constantly running away from a cat. It's sickening so sickening—so beneath you to be treated like an object yet you find yourself swallowing your pride and gulping down the spit.

"Good whore." Geto mutters. His long finger pops against your inner cheek as he takes it out of your mouth. He pats your chubby cheek and wipes your saliva on your half exposed chest.

"Mmm this kinda bored me." Gojo remarks. Geto hums and backs away from you,"Yeah this pig is kinda not entertaining me anymore. Wanna get something to eat?" The tall man that was positioned behind you snakes his to way over to Geto.

Leaving you to watch as they casually saunter off but Gojo suddenly stops his big strides. "Oh and (Reader),"his tones lowers a bit—scarily so,"don't let us see you hanging out with those guys again. Or we'll actually do something to you."

You stand there in shock—shirt ridden up to your chest and pants flashing bits of your panties. Gojo smiles at you,but it's not a pleasant one—a smile that makes you want to run and hide. They both continue walking and you watch,counting and waiting the steps to see if they're far enough so you can quietly sob.

The moment they get far enough you slide down the cool wall and break out in a array of tears. All you can think is why you? What'd you ever do to anyone to have your life be meddled with so cruelly?

WHY YOU?

━━━━━━━━

"I regret not taking pics." The white haired man pouts. Geto chuckles," There's always next time."

"But she only looked like that awhile ago. Her bra looked so pretty that day. I wished I filmed her swallowing your spit. She looked so fucking cute Sugu...I just wanna stick my dick in her mouth. I wanna make her embarrassed like that again,so fucking bad."

The male smiles amusedly at his friends whines,however he feels the same,he wishes to see you like that all over again. "I think we should give her a visit soon. We haven't seen her in like what two weeks?" Geto and Gojo knows that's not true,they have seen you actually but you haven't seen them. They always check up on you at certain points during the day—making sure you're listening to them about the people you're hanging out and it makes them so damn proud when they see you alone and avoiding all your male friends. You're such a obedient girl.

"Oh thank God! This time I actually wanna do something with her,I've been thinking about what she feels like. And I want you to film it. "

Gojo says enthusiastically. "What do you have in mind?" The bright blue eyed man smiles widely,"You'll see."

━━━━━

"(Reader) are you sure you don't wanna come and watch a movie with us?" The kind voice halts your motions of packing up for the day.

"Nah,I'm sure. I'm gonna catch up on homework so I need the extra time." You explain with a smile. "Alright,but text me if you change your mind. The movie doesn't start for a few more hours."

You nod and wave as your kind classmate walks out the door. You're about done packing up until your trusty mechanical pencil begins rolling down the rows and isles of the seats.

"Dang it." You sigh and annoyedly crouch down—following the pencils straight arrow path. You take tiny steps in order for your bigger body to keep up with the quick pace of the rolling writing device.

Finally it stops at the third row—leaning against the leg of a mahogany chair. You bend down to get it with a smile etched on your face but as you reach to grab it a hauntingly familiar brown leather shoe is planted in front of you.

Suddenly you forget to breath—fear and anxiety grasping the natural function away from you. That same fear making you incapable of looking up to see intimidating bright blue irises.

It's quiet—too quiet and that's what makes it worse for you. You feel like prey—being teased,chased,stalked on, by two superior animals who are waiting to take the final kill.

"Do you wanna stay there on your knees for me or are you gonna greet me?" Jolly is the only way you can describe Gojo's voice—which makes his words only 10x times worse to hear. Ever since you encountered him in the library and attempted to forget him all you got was all too much of him. After the incident you've constantly been hearing about the "Great Gojo", the impossibly handsome trust fund baby of the university. The Gojo who's cute and loud and funny—it makes you wish you knew him due to different circumstances so you could admire him just like everyone else.

No,you had to remind yourself that this isn't the case. Instead you'd get bullied and assaulted by him and his friend Geto.

"Hello?? Is anyone there?" Gojo bends down and prods at your forehead,roughly poking it. "Do you think she heard me Sugu?" Gojo asks. "I dunno let's see." Geto's large hand suddenly rushes to your face and grips the warm flesh together. Both of the handsome men sneer at you and condescendingly share a glance with one another.

"I think someone is home but they're too shy to answer." Geto peers down at you before he whispers,"Shhh it's okay,me and Toru just missed you so much. We just need you to be good for us,m'kay?" You look up at him with wonder—confused by the oh so sweet tone of his voice. It almost makes you feel safe and cared for—almost is the keyword here. Because in only a few seconds your hair is suddenly yanked,having long fingers tangled in it. "I expect an answer when I say anything to you." Geto grunts into your ear.

"Y-Yes!" You whimper out. A warm wet kiss is placed on your chubby cheek as the black hair

man praisingly remarks,"Good job!"

"Since you're gonna be for good for Gojo and me I want you to do something, okay?" You nod and mumble a fearful okay. "Good,now take off your panties and give them to Gojo."

You gulp down a wad of spit as you nervously and shamefully stand up and start quickly sliding off your panties. By the time you get the plain white cotton undies to your ankles Gojo's expectant hand is waiting for you—and like he was expecting you hand the worn material to him.

He places the pair of panties into his pocket and grins at you happily.

Geto's voice rings out,"Now get on his shoe." Snapped out of your fearful daze you yell,"WHAT? I'm not doing that! That's so gross and unsanitary." Gojo pouts,"What's wrong with my shoe? It's not good enough for you?"

"No! That's so gross! No way in hell am I doing that!" You attempt to stand up right and walk away from the pair but a large hand pushes you back down. The force of the body part making you whimper by the sheer power. "Nu uh Geto already filmed you taking off your panties for me. If you walk away we'll have no choice but to show everyone at this university what a dirty slut you are. How would you like that,hmm?"

You mouth flaps open in shock,since when did Geto have a chance to do that?? When did he even take out his phone? You turn and there you see the cellular device pointed right at you. You thought you were screwed then but now...they actually have something way worse to use against you.

Gojo smiles at your realization," So now are you gonna put that pussy on my shoe?" You look up at him and defeatedly turn to still see that Geto's filming and you simply just give in.

You waddle closer to Gojo's foot and set your bare pussy on the rich material—the thick pubes on your mound making contact with the shoe. You can't help but gasp by how cool it feels,it feels new,almost good.

"Move." Gojo says. You look up at the man and gasp once you see and hear how different he looks. His voice sounds less high—lacking the usual teasing and playful tone he talks in. And his eyes—his normally bright blue eyes are now toned down,muddled with dark lust and eagerness.

Your clit bumps and grinds on the expensive laces as you try to set a pace on your own. You huff and whine at the oddly good sensation.

You lean your face on Gojo's pants,slightly biting into the material to hush down your pleasured noises. It feels good because it's so degrading and so wrong—yet you can't deny how wet begin to you feel the more you thrust against the man.

"Mmmf!" Is the noise you're making as you hide your face into his legs,teary eyes closed in hated bliss and ashamed mouth taut open in pleasure. How disgusting you are—enjoying fully how good this is making you feel. You're riding a man's shoe for gods sake, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. Not when your poor hole is opening and closing for nothing. Not when you you can feel four eyes staring at you get yourself off.

"Look at you,such a fat slut. And you tried to act like you didn't want me and Sugu's attention. Dirty slut." You hear a wet noise of Gojo's mouth right before warm hot spit lands on your forehead. You go to wipe it away but Geto's hand grips your wrist,"Don't,you'll ruin your pretty face. Leave it."

You nod and silently gasp once you see the angry bulges of the two men. It makes you even wetter once you see how aroused this made them. Geto seems to noticed your focus gaze,"Aww do you wanna actually see some dicks in real life? Hmm,is that what you want whore?"

Your mouth almost forms the word yes until you remember these men aren't some friends with benefits or boyfriends—no they're bullies who enjoy seeing you struggle. So with that reminder you shake your head no and go to hide your face in Gojo's leg only to feel a hot sting run across your plump cheek. "Liar. Gojo get her off your foot. I'm gonna show her something."

"Aww but I was enjoying watching her! At least let her clean the mess up." Geto rolls his eyes,"Alright,make it quick." Gojo smiles happily before he peers down on you,"Lick." He's not specific because you already know what he wants you to place your tongue on. You stare down where you placed your cunt at and feel grossed out. However,you know one way or another you're going to have to lick his shoe. And you'd rather not get another burning slap from Geto.

So you prod your tongue out,lapping at your own juices placed on the man's costly shoe.

You taste yourself and the taste of oddly wood like leather. It taints your palate,making you scrunch your face in distain as you finish the task. You look up at Gojo and he seems so enthralled—his chest is heaving and his pink lips are slightly agape in surprise? You can't tell but he just looks so fascinated by you. "Wow,you really are a slut." He breathlessly chuckles.

"Mmm,she really is. Anyway take her to the desk Gojo,make sure she's bent over." Without warning Gojo pulls you by your underarms and walks you to the desk. He pushes you down onto it,his hand presses down on your roll adorned back to keep your stomach flat against the desk. You feel him move from behind you,changing his position to be in front of you.

Suddenly you feel a warm hand graze against your dimpled ass—long fingers sinking into the supple flesh. "Now since you wanna lie and act like a fucking prude Imma make you see how badly you want our dicks."

For a few seconds you're left waiting to see what happens. It's suspenseful so suspenseful that you're even staring at Gojo in anticipated wonder. THACK! Is all Gojo hears along with a pained cry.Hot tingles flows though out your pussy—burning sensation fleeting in the wet organ.

"That's what happens when you're not being honest. Your lil pussy gets punished. If you want it stop I just need you to be honest with me. Say you want our dicks inside you."

Your bottom lip trembles pathetically,"I want your dicks inside me." Another harsh slap rains down on your cunt. "Again! You're not saying it like you mean it." This time you force your voice to be louder,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto leans forward until his warm breath can be felt on your face and his big hand yanks your head back. "Now look at the camera and say you want our dicks inside you."

You defeatedly look up at the iPhone camera held in Gojo's large hands,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto let's go of your hair and stands straight,"Good cause we're gonna give it to you." Two hands spread your thighs open and something large and veiny fills the empty space between them. "But you don't deserve any dicks inside you yet. You should've been honest the first time."

Geto grabs your supple waist and grips your tummy from below—with a snap of his hips he's brushing his cock against your inner thighs. Each thrust his rough and fast paced,forcing your head to bob up and down the desk. The graze of his dick against your throbbing clit pulls occasional whimpers and whines from your lips.

On the other side of desk Gojo unbuttons his pants—pale fingers rubbing against the expanse of his tight briefs. "Touch it." Gojo demands. You look up at him as you reach and feel the constant pulse of his cock. It's warm,so warm that the heat is comforting to your whole body in the cool lecture room.

You cup the thick shape protruding from the pure white material and start moving up and down. Gojo pushes himself into your hand—his once opened eyes closed in pleasure. The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock."S-Shit pull em down." The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock.You obey the pleading man,gripping the beginning of his underwear until his oozing cock is revealed.

A gasp falls from your lips at the sheer beauty of it. You stare points blank at his pre cum ridden tip that's oh so rosy. Your thumb finger graces the slit—going up and down on it,feeling his dick get harder and harder. Though, before you can really get a good grip on it one hard thrust from Geto pulls you away from him.

"Aww Sugu...you messed her up." Gojo whines. "Calm down you can use another part of her in a little bit. Switch spots with me." Gojo huffs but obeys Geto. The white haired places his still filming phone onto the desk. The ravenette ends up in front of you,his girthy dick resting on the desk right next to your face. "Have you sucked dick before you?" Geto asks. "N-No." You quietly reply.

"Mmm,of course you haven't. What loser would wanna get sucked off by you?" Liar. Geto's been dreaming of having those pretty lips surround his cock—of slapping your face and cradling those chubby cheeks you have on you. Choking you with his dick while you're all teary eyed and begging for air. But he doesn't hate you,no not at all,this was just a dare that he's happening to be enjoying.

So since it's your first he's gonna go easy on you. "Wait does that mean you've never been fucked before?" Gojo says excitedly. "Mhm." The confirmation makes Gojo's and Geto's dick jump. This is great! No one's been inside before so that really means you're really all theirs,their personal fuck toy who's only been fucked by them. After months of planning how they're gonna pop up into your life and destroy what you've known before,they're finally getting award.

"But that means I gotta stretch you out first,huh?" Gojo dejectedly says. "I know just the way." Gojo sinks down go to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him. You feel cool air fan your warm pussy. Lanky fingers spread your lips apart,pulling the coarse pubes away from the another. The sheer slick of your pussy laying and slicking them down to the mound.

"You surprisingly have a real pretty pussy. It's perfect for taking dick. Too bad no one else is really gonna want it." Untrue,Gojo really wants it. He's been wanting it since Naoya showed that picture to him. He's been craving the feeling of sinking into you and fulling you up. Craving to grip your round tummy as he pounds into you,drilling every single last sperm into you.

A long wet tongue licks the expanse of it,the sensation draining a surprised whine from you. "Mmm, while he warms you up Imma give you a lesson on how to suck." Geto leans down so his face his leveled with yours. He grabs Gojo's phone and points it towards him and you. He points out his index and pointer finger,pressing the digits against your lips. "What I want you to do is ease these into your mouth,okay?"

You nod and your mouth drops open as you feel Gojo's long tongue dig into your cunt. "Mmmf!" You whine. You attempt to only take the tips of Geto's fingers but you rush them into your mouth as you feel more pleasure. Geto roughly taps your face,"I said ease,don't take it all in." You look up at him and just suck on the tips of his fingers. "Good girl,like that until I say so."

Gojo releases his tongue from your hole,instead prodding into your entrance with his fingers. He slips one in and then two,slowly scissoring you open with each curl of his fingers. Geto pushes more of his fingers into your mouth,almost reaching the back of your throat. You gag and attempt to move away from him only to have your head held in place. "Stay. Breath through your nose."

Taking his advice,you hurriedly stable your breathing. Your eyes bubble with tears and your face contorts in uncomfortableness. Finally you're full of relief once Geto slides his fingers out of your mouth. "Good. I think you're ready for the real thing now,huh?"

"Y-Yes." Geto smiles,"Good slut,you learn so fast. You're meant to be a whore for us." Gojo pulls his fingers from your entrance. Geto faces the camera directly on you,"Are you ready to be fucked?" You look up at the camera—flashes of all the treatment you've endure from these two,constant examples of cruelty for no reason course through your memory's, yet you want so badly to mutter the words yes please. You want to be fucked by them,want to know what it's like to have someone inside you.

"Please." Pathetic,weak but you don't care. You've given in one last time and your decision is rewarded with a almost loving kiss from Geto. Gojo practically mounts you as he rests his muscular chest on you,he plants a kiss on the back of your neck that could be seen as a sweet praise or an apology for what he does next.

Without a single warning Gojo sheaths himself in you. You scream and writhe against the wooden desk but Gojo grips your violent body. "It's okay,just take it. Take it."

"I think it's my turn now." Geto looks down at you right before he plunges his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to process what's even happening. All you can do it feel. Feel the slowly pleasurable feeling inside your pussy and feel Geto's thick dick go in and out of your mouth.

The more you begin to feel the better all the overstimulation is. Suddenly Gojo's downright stretch feels so fucking wonderful as thrusts in you. Geto grips onto your hair,guiding your face to go deeper on his dick. "F-Fuck,good slut. Good whore. Imma cum if you keep letting me fuck your face like this."

Minute after minute,you can't catch a break. Not when Gojo's snaps his hips into you like a animal. Like he's so desperate to stay in you—drowned in the utter wet and warmness you offer him. "Good girl,good girl! This pussy feels good! So good!" The blue eyed man babbles.

You feel your oxygen slowly leave you and you roughly tap on Geto’s legs. He frees himself of your mouth and instead busies himself with slapping his heavy cock onto your face as you catch your breath. You can’t even do that though because Gojo reaches from under you and rubs your clit with a passion.

Moan upon moan leaves your mouth,like a broken record playing over and over again. Your song is becomes muffled once Geto finds his cock in your slack mouth. You quiver underneath Gojo as you feel a hot feeling tingle with in you.

You were gonna cum,so soon. With three snaps of Gojo hips you come undone and you begin to lose feeling everywhere. You feel like a lifeless fuckdoll,just a cocksleeve for Gojo and Geto’s dicks.

Gojo feels you cum and groans,”Shitttt I’m close.” Although Geto doesn’t agree verbally his thrusts in your mouth become more hurried and desperate. In and out is all you can feel.

It feels like hours of tortuous pleasure. A sick sadistic game being toiled onto your body. But it ends once hot,warm fluid courses in your walls. “Mmmmmm!” Is all the men can hear from you. Gojo pulls out and Geto pulls one last thrust into your mouth before he cums all the way down into your throat.

He grips his dick and slides it out. You hurry to swallow his seed and almost choke due to the quickness.

It’s quiet throughout the big classroom,only heavy breathing being heard. Geto looks down at you having Gojo’s phone in hand and travels the entirety of your body. He finally tosses it to him and the man catches it quietly.

Geto bends down so he’s once again on your level,”I’m telling you this now and I want you to know I mean it. You,your body,everything that makes you a person belongs to us.” Each word is said with such powerful emphasis that all you can do is silently agree.

An agreement that leads you down a interesting path with the pair.

━━━━━━

From a game of truth and dare,to bullying,to becoming fond of you ,all the way to fucking you every single day,to adorning you with the proper title of their girl.

The two have learned some truth from a juvenile game. They learned that they’ve should’ve never met you,should’ve never crossed paths with you because now they’re completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even if they cover it up with insults and threats,they’d go crazy if other people had you like how they have.

Reblogs area greatly appreciated🫶🏽🫶🏽!!

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apocalypseornaw · 3 months

Text

Things Happen

Dean Winchester x Reader

When you and Dean get hit with a powder on a hunt you're not sure what's gonna happen until you get stuck in an elevator

It's smut yall

It all happened so fast. One minute you, Sam and Dean were chasing a witch through an old warehouse the next she'd turned, throwing an orange, fruity scented powder all over you and Dean just as Sam got the kill shot.

Your eyes met Dean's as both of you were struck with the realization something was wrong. You could hear your own heartbeat, every inch of your body felt like it was on fire and you were acutely aware of the green eyed hunter clenching his jaw tightly against his own pain to ask if you were ok.

“What the hell is this Sam?” You asked, turning to look at the younger Winchester who'd smartly stood a few feet away from the two of you. “I have no idea” the fire that had been contained on your skin chose that moment to rip through your stomach, nearly making you double over. Dean rushed to your side but the moment his hand touched your back it only made the fire worsen, a groan escaping his lips as well.

“You two go back to the hotel. I'll call Rowena in and we'll figure it out” you glanced over at Dean who nodded “Yeah, ok Sammy. Just watch your back until red gets here”

Every bump the impala hit shot straight through you. Every nerve ending was on fire and the heat between your thighs was getting worse with every passing moment. It took everything you had to concentrate on anything besides the movements of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel. The thought of those fingers on you, his hands splayed across your body, those damn lips of his tasting your skin. What the hell was going on with you?

You'd always been attracted to Dean, you had eyes. He was a gorgeous man, sweet, caring and no matter how he saw himself a truly good person at his core. You had feelings for him beyond friendship but had never once considered acting on them yet now the only thought you had was what would he feel like inside of you?

—-----------------

Dean was trying to concentrate on the road, clenching every muscle in his jaw hard enough there was a chance he'd cracked a tooth. The fruity scent of that powder still clung to the air but under it he could smell you. The shampoo you preferred, the scented lotion you loved. Every damn bump he hit a low moan would slip from you and his cock would twitch at the sound.

You were a beautiful woman, an amazing hunter and one of the most important people to him. He'd always wanted you, wanted more but wouldn't risk it yet now all he could imagine was having you underneath him.

You followed Dean into the hotel about the time a loud crack of thunder went through the sky and what seemed like hell itself unleashed. “Fucking tsunami” Dean muttered, heading for the elevator.

You stepped in behind him, shaking slightly. Your legs felt like they were made of jello at that point. Your heart rate was higher than it normally was on hunts and you were certain the slick from your core was dripping down your legs at that point. You fell back against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore Dean's breathing.

You closed your eyes when the elevator began to move but it only went six floors then screeched to a halt. Your eyes flew open “Dean?” He shrugged “I'm trying sweetheart, I'm trying” he was hitting the emergency call button repeatedly.

You slid down to the floor, sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest in hopes to soothe the ache throbbing through you. You vaguely heard Dean curse something about a rolling blackout but couldn't care less. The fire, the heat, everything was starting to hurt. You had to get a release “Dean?”

You knew you sounded wrecked but you didn't care you needed it, you needed him. He knelt in front of you and one look in his eyes told you he was barely hanging on himself “I want you” you whispered and he groaned “Sweetheart, baby please don't say that”

You looked up at him and he swallowed hard “I'm barely hanging on here” you leaned forward “Then let go” the moment his lips crashed into yours the heat roared back to life.

Everything in you was screaming that this was Dean, your best friend, your best friend who had never shown interest in you but it didn't matter because if you didn't do something for relief you'd die here in this elevator.

—-----------------

Dean grabbed your ankle and gave a tug, pulling you down onto your back where he could move to be between your legs. Hovering over you he took a few deep breath “Sweetheart” you shook your head “Shut up”

—-----------

When you pulled him back into another kiss, hooking your legs around his waist Dean felt what resolve he had crumple. Whatever was happening it demanded you. It craved you and he was powerless to fight it. His hands went to the hem of your shirt and you broke the kiss long enough to snatch it off and throw it. His lips went from yours, down your neck then he started to kiss down your chest “I need more Dean, fuck it hurts and I need more”

He knew what you meant. He was hurting. His cock was harder than it'd ever been and the fire, fuck the fire nipping through his body. He had to help you first, had to get you somewhat level headed. He nodded then lowered his lips to your stomach.

He used one hand to unsnap your jeans and then slipped it inside, he moaned into your skin at the feeling of the warm moisture he found seeping from your pussy. You were soaked and responsive to the point that a barely there flicker of his fingers made your back arch off the floor. “Please”

He freed your body of your boots and jeans faster than he'd ever undressed himself even. He took a moment to sit back on his heels and look at you. A brief moment of clarity telling him to stop this, he could handle the pain but what if you regretted him when this was over? “Dean it hurts please help me” you begged and that was all it took. He licked into you in one fluid motion and your fingers tangled in his hair “Yes, fuck Dean”

—------------

Dean began to work you towards an orgasm, flicking his tongue against your clit while he added a finger, curling it up to hit that spot inside of you. The pleasure began to push back against the pain and you found yourself unashamed as you ground your hips down against Dean's face. Your moans urged him on and when he shifted just slightly that blinding heat gave way to pleasure. He worked you through the orgasm and you could feel the pain roll back a bit.

When you became too sensitive you weakly shoved at his head. He pulled away and smiled up at you “Feeling better?” You nodded “Wanna take those jeans off?” His smile slipped into a grin “Yes ma'am”

—--------------

Dean slipped his jeans, shirt and boots off before tucking his shirt under your head as a makeshift pillow. Even if this was something pushing you two to do this he was going to make you as comfortable as possible. His hand shook slightly and he wasn't sure of the cause of it but you underneath him, all spread out and begging made that heat roar to life.

He held your eyes as he slipped into you, both of you groaning at the feeling. Once he was fully inside of you he stilled, his muscles shaking with the urge to take you hard and fast. He could fight this enough to be gentle, to make it amazing for you. It was the only hope he had for you to not hate him when you were both clear headed.

Your eyes focused on him and you smiled “Fuck me Dean, please” he caught your lips in a hungry kiss “Oh sweetheart you're gonna be the death of me”

—----------------

Dean buried his face in your neck as his thrusts got harder and deeper. You were so close to that edge you just needed a little more. Without you having to say anything Dean slipped a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your back arched, pressing your breasts up into his chest as you came with a loud moan of his name.

Once your vision cleared a bit you could feel Dean holding back. He needed to come, he needed that release from the heat, the pain. “Come for me Dean. Please” you begged, tightening your grip on his shoulders and spreading your legs further to give him deeper access.

You could feel his thrusts get harder and knew he was close. He pulled his face up to catch his lips in a kiss. You poured everything you'd always felt into the kiss, trying to tell him you'd wanted this for years that it wasn't just magical shit forcing the two of you to do this. You wanted Dean, you wanted to feel him come inside of you, you wanted to be his.

He groaned into your mouth as he slammed into you one final time and you felt him come filling you up.

—---------

You lay there for a few moments, Dean's now softening cock still inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. Both of your heads were cleared now, the effects having worn off.

“Dean I..” your words were cut off by Dean's phone ringing. He pulled out of you gently before retrieving his phone. You could only hear his end which consisted of “Yeah we figured that out….just what it sounds like Sam…..what?...That's not..yeah ok…. I know….I know”

He hung up then looked at you where you were now slowly slipping back into your clothes. He did the same but when you started to tie your boots he knelt down and tied them for you. Neither of you had spoken the last few minutes.

When he stood up he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you “Sweetheart” yet again the two of you were interrupted by the elevator choosing that moment to start working again.

You stayed in Dean's arms until you reached the tenth floor. You stepped off first and he watched you carefully. What was going through his head? What was going through yours? You'd figured out it was sex pollen. A few hunters had run across different variants but the cure was always to fuck it out your system. It was never meant to kill but would if you didn't give in.

You stepped off the elevator first and Dean walked off behind you. You headed for the conjoined rooms you, him and Sam had gotten. You could feel the heat from him at your back but this time it was a very human feeling.

—----------

You unlocked the door to your room and was about to step inside when Dean's hand grabbed your arm. You looked at him and he took a deep breath “That was..” “Sex pollen, I know. I know that's why that happened”

He shook his head “No, sweetheart you don't. The pollen may have caused it but it wasn't just the pollen”

“What are you saying Dean?” You asked pulling your arm away from him to cross it over your other arm. “I'm saying I tried to hold off as long as I could because of how much I care about you, how long I've wanted to do that. I just, I hope you don't hate me now”

You shook your head “I couldn't hate you for us saving both our lives. I couldn't hate you for anything, I care about you way too much” he half smiled “Care about me like you care about Sam or?” You cut him off by pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

You stepped back and shrugged “Care about you like if you want to try this between us for real I wouldn't be opposed to it” a grin slipped onto his face “I want you for a lot longer than a day or two” you returned his grin “Good cause it's gonna take a long time for me to get sick of you”

Before you could say anything else Dean stepped closer and picked you up, his hands bracing under your thighs. You gasped lightly and he grinned “Sometimes witches aren't too bad I guess, if they got me you” you laughed "Oh shut up and take me inside"

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

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greatstormcat · 1 month

Text

Don’t Draw Attention

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x TM!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, abuse of power, kinda dub/con, fingering, slight degradation

Terms used: male pronouns only, lad, good boy, pussy, clit, cunt, folds

Huge thanks to @pfhwrittes and others off tumblr for their assistance with this first foray into writing for TM!reader. Constructive comments welcome!

The first thing people had warned you in basic training was never draw attention to yourself, don’t make yourself a target for the Staff, or your life will be hell. You’d failed at this miserably so far. Currently you were standing rigid and focused on a random point in the opposite wall while he chewed you out. Yet again. You had to focus on the wall because if you looked at him, you’d stop paying attention, again.

Lieutenant Riley had dragged you out of PT and into this empty office after you had somehow pissed him off. It was getting harder to tell what he did and didn’t want you to do. To be honest you found yourself staring at the masked man whenever he appeared on base, causing you to lose focus at the worst possible times, almost as if he were doing it on purpose now. Why had the universe been so cruel as to make your superior officer a walking, talking red flag, one that you couldn’t avoid being drawn to. Your last boyfriend…

“Are you even listening to me now?”

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts sharply, his voice a fraction of an inch from your ear and close enough that you feel the heat of his breath through the balaclava he is wearing. Fuck, he smelled good this close, like good, clean sweat and smoke.

“Yessir,” you blurt out unconvincingly, schooling your face into a perfect blank and trying to shut down your traitorous thoughts. He’s so terribly close, stooping slightly to place his face close to your ear. You’re by no means a small guy but Ghost… he’s a fucking unit, and the deadliest man in the SAS according to the rumors.

“You’re my little project from now on, Private,” he says, and you can hear the evil smirk in his voice, even if you can’t see it, and it sends a tingle down your spine. “You’ll get used to me watching your every step from here on in. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

With as much parade ground snap in your step as you can manage, you turn towards the door, but something happens when you go to step smartly forward. A booted ankle connects with your own, an arm wraps around your throat and the world turns on an unusual axis as you are pulled backwards off balance. Instincts flare, your training kicks in and you grab at the thick arm that pulls against your throat as you fall backwards, landing on a thick, warm slab of muscle on the ground.

Ghost hooks his legs around your shins, pinning them apart, and you're suddenly trapped against him on the ground looking up, effectively spread-eagle as you fight to hold his arm away from crushing your neck with both your hands. Your heart almost stops beating as your come to rest against him, as you understand your predicament.

“You got nothing but air in that head of yours. Eh, Private?” Ghost growls in your ear, voice deep and deadly, sending a trail of cold dripping down your spine as you feel the vibrations of his words through your body. The sensation turns to fire, however, as it reaches your cunt and it heats, liquid arousal pooling inside you and all you want to do his clench your thighs. You know Ghost feels the involuntary pull of your legs as he keeps them locked with his own. “Look at you,” he huffs, his tone a mixture of derision and contempt. “Already desperate.”

He places his free hand on your stomach as you struggle in his hold, fingers splayed as he runs his palm over your middle in lazy circles which stills your movements, then up across the muscles of your chest, and lifts it up before your face. You stare at the hand in confusion for a moment, not sure what to do.

“Bite,” he orders you, the cloth covered digits hovering infront of your lips. You gingerly push your face forward and nip at the fabric to anchor it while he pulls his hand out of the glove. “Good boy,” the bastard purrs and your eyes nearly roll back into your skull.

His hand moves back down across your torso, edging towards the waistband on your shorts, your breathing coming in rapid bursts as you feel him nearing your groin. The muscles of your back ripple against his front, his warmth seeping into your skin, and an undeniable hardness pressing into you from his cock. With his thumb he tugs down the elasticated band roughly, cool air hitting the heated skin of your pussy instantly as he tugs down your shorts and underwear.

He pulls the fabric wide and peers over your shoulder, down the flat plane of your torso, and you know he is looking at the damp spot in your underwear.

“Look at that,” Ghost murmurs almost proudly. “That because of me, is it, lad?”

Your voice falters, face hotter than the furnaces of hell, and you manage a nod. All you want his to feel his skin on yours, it’s the only thought in your head at this moment, just please touch me, you beg silently.

He teases his bare knuckle over your clit, a strangled, gurgling groan ripping from your lips when he touches it, and echoing around the room.

“Settle down,” he warns. “Eyes on the door, Private. Someone could walk in here at any moment and see you getting jerked off by your Superior Officer. How would that go, d’ya think?”

Your eyes snap open towards the door, a startled breath rushing from your lungs, but your traitorous pussy throbs with desire making you squirm against his hold again. You hear his chuckle when he feels the tell-tale movement, betraying just how fucking turned on you are by the situation and your utter lack of control. The Lieutenant slips his hands between your legs again and runs the tip of his finger along your seam, and every muscle in your abdomen spasms at once, curling your hips into his hand, seeking his attention.

He moves his hand painfully slowly, moving further between your folds with each pass, a deep groan rolling from your chest when he finally, finally presses his rough finger tip to your entrance. He doesn’t stop pushing until he is knuckles deep into you, and then he experiments with his depth and speed, testing and exploring your reactions to find what makes you shudder and moan the most. All the time you’re pinned against him, if you forget to pull at his other arm you struggle to breath, his strength and control are beyond human almost.

He brings you close to the edge, thumb rubbing over your clit the whole time, and then slows, teasing you with release but always keeping it out of reach. You’re a shaking, gasping wreck as he strings out your pleasure, his harsh breathing constantly in your ear letting you know how much he is enjoying your torture. You’re sure his forearm must be bleeding under his sleeve from how hard your thick nails are biting into him, holding on for dear life while you try to drive your hips into his hand, chasing your pleasure.

Sweat covers your skin, fire pumping through your veins as he adds a second finger into your gripping heat, his breath hitching as he feels your muscles clamping down around his digits. The tension builds so tightly now, your abdominal muscles painfully tight, and wet sounds filling the room as your body drools around where he fills you. Your thighs shake and tremble uncontrollably, heels almost vibrating against the hard floor as he drives you insane with one hand, and you almost forget to breathe despite the arm around your throat.

“Sir…,” you grunt, barely able to form the syllable while your brain fritzes in and out, “sir… need to…. I’m gonna…..” you manage to say, terrified of what he’ll do if you come without him telling you to. You fight it back, muscles tight as you teeter on the precipice, threatening to explode if you don’t get his command soon enough.

“Good boy, do it,” he spits into your ear and you bark a harsh cry as you orgasm, your sticky mess covering his hand. Your muscles flex and your hips rock back against him, your backside grinding against the outline of his erection under you as he eases you down through the waves of electric ecstasy. Once the shockwaves subside Ghost withdraws his hand, his fingers glistening with your slick. With a satisfied grunt he lifts his hand, spreading his fingers open before you both and turning his hand slowly, as if admiring his work.

“Go and clean yerself up,” he tells you, releasing his hold around your neck and legs. You roll off of him quickly, head spinning slightly as you get to your knees and fix your shorts again. Almost shyly, you risk a glance at Ghost, looking at him propped up on his elbows casually as though he didn’t just gift you the best orgasm of your life. His erection strains at the front of his black combats, and for a moment you consider offering to repay him.

“Now, Private,” he snaps, shutting down what must have been painted clear as day on your face. You sprint to the door. Finding it locked, you fumble it open with trembling fingers and get the fuck out of there.

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justmediocrewriting · 3 months

Text

“Eyes Open,” {v.s}

A/n: first installment of my NSFW Dialogue Prompt Special — featuring everyone’s favorite chef ❤️ I had quite a fun time writing this, and I hope that you beautiful peeps will enjoy it!

Warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, soft!sanji, but also mean!sanji, cunnilingus, first times, virgin!reader, experienced!sanji, prompt, blurb, sexualization of Taz Skylar’s (alleged) tongue piercing (its canon to me), tongue fucking, hair pulling, 100 follower NSFW dialogue prompt special

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Prompt: “Keep your eyes open; look at me, baby.” (#1 from list)

You had no idea it could feel so good.

You didn’t know what Sanji was doing, or how; all you knew was that your pussy felt like it was melting beneath his tongue, all slick and sloppy, electric currents traveling up your hips every time your clit throbbed beneath his affections.

You’d heard talk of this, had listened when your friends gushed about the euphoria of it, but you had never once taken it to heart — you thought they were only hyping their experiences up in an attempt to look cooler. But now that you were experiencing it for yourself… it was more intense than you’d ever imagined.

Sanji’s tongue was a searing hot force against your clit, alternating between flattening against your pearl and circling it with movements that were far too skilled for him having “just a little bit of experience,” as he’d told you before; and every so often the man would switch it up by splitting your folds with the tip of his tongue, up and down, before pushing the slimy muscle just so into your pussy, pumping in and out deeper as if he were trying to spear you on it completely before returning to his original task of devouring your clit.

The sounds falling from your lips were ones you’d never once imagined yourself making; a mixture of whimpers and moans and heavy breaths, they were a symphony that harmonized with the tune of Sanji’s own muffled groans vibrating against your pussy. It was hot, your body was hot, you were tearing apart at the seams, Sanji was too fucking good with his tongue, and just what the hell was that was that warm, hardened ball you chanced a feel of from time to time, because it was zapping pleasure through you with the ferocity of some sort of hurricane —

“Open your eyes, doll.”

Sanji’s tongue had disappeared from your sex, taking it with it that searing pleasure, the loss forcing your eyes to snap open so you could level the man between your legs with a disappointed glare. The lone light turned on in the galley reflected the shine of spit and arousal smeared along Sanji’s chin and lips, which were lifted into that boyish grin that never failed to send flutters through your heart. Your brain almost completely short circuited at the sight of your own arousal glistening on that handsome face between your legs, and it took you a few embarrassing seconds to register that Sanji had spoken to you.

“Uh, what?” You asked smartly, words coming out as no more than wispy breaths. Sanji’s grin only widened and your hips nearly bucked off the counter when the man blew a stream of cold air against your overheated clit.

“You’re so sensitive, love. Does it really feel that good?”

Your skin flushed at Sanji’s antics, the bashfulness that had previously been overpowered by pleasure returning full force. Sanji knew you’d never been with another person this way, had never felt anyone’s hands, fingers, or tongue on you, had never felt the kind of pleasure that Sanji was shoving into you — it was embarrassing enough alone, and here he was teasing you about it.

Sanji ripped you from your state of silence by sliding a thick thumb between your folds, trailing from the very bottom and only stopping when the pad of his thumb reached your clit. With a spark in his eyes Sanji slowly rubbed a circle over your clit, pulling a sharp exhale of breath from between your lips as your hips trembled from the action.

“Answer me, doll.” Sanji gently commanded, the rolling timbre of his voice sliding over your body like a physical thing and demanding compliance from you. You couldn’t help but nod with a small, breathy, “yes.”

Sanji’s gentle expression turned downright devilish, the sight sending mixed signals of panic and arousal straight to your brain stem, and your heart thundered erratically with anticipation when Sanji leaned closer to your sex — that masterful tongue was so close to your clit now, if only Sanji would have the clemency to put it there.

“Show me how good it feels, love. Let me see the look in your eyes when you cum on my tongue.” Sanji growled, hands shooting up to wrap his forearms around your thighs and hold your lower body in place. Your breath halted in your lungs and you had barely a moment’s preparation before Sanji was diving into your pussy again, tongue and lips devouring every inch of it like a man starved.

“Fuck!” You hissed out as your clit was assaulted by a barrage of flicks and circles, pleasure zipping through your lower half much more intensely than before. Had Sanji been holding back before, or something? Sanji’s eyes were endless pools of deep ocean as he stared into yours, bottom half of his face completely hidden by your pubis, and your gut clenched almost uncomfortably with the familiar build of an orgasm.

The atmosphere had changed instantaneously; it was heavy, hot, full of tension and desire to a degree it hadn’t possessed before, and you could feel everything now.

You could feel every small physical detail of Sanji’s tongue as it laved over your cunt; the veins, the bumps, the ridges, that fucking ball. You could feel the tip of Sanji’s nose rubbing across the skin above your clit as he subtly shook his head, his groans and grunts vibrating your clit with a tortuous intensity, each and every sensation winding the coil inside your gut tighter and tighter.

“That’s it, baby,” Sanji breathed against your cunt, voice thick with arousal, “keep looking at me like that, fuck.”

Despite the flush it was bringing to your skin, you simply couldn’t tear your eyes away from Sanji’s — you couldn’t stop watching as he ate you, as his eyes fluttered every so often from the taste of you, those baby blues nearly swallowed by blankets of black. It felt almost as if Sanji was getting more pleasure than you were, his moans deep and consistent, tongue haphazardly shoving into your cunt and twisting. There was less grace about his movements, but the desperation and pure sloppy hunger within them made up for it entirely.

“Oh, my gods, Sanji,” you whimpered, head becoming fuzzy as that coil continued to wind, pleasure and pure passion now taking control of your body as you brought a hand down to grip a fistful of Sanji’s hair. You wanted that hot tongue closer, harder, deeper inside you, wanted Sanji to eat you like he meant it, make that coil finally snap, fuck.

Your hips rocked against his face, the movements hindered by the grip he still held on your thighs, and when you couldn’t use your hips to attain your desire, you used your grip in his hair as leverage to push his face closer. Sanji let out a guttural groan as you did so, his tongue now focusing all of its attention on your clit, flicking and sucking and circling, shit, it felt so good, you were losing your mind —

“S-Sanji, fuck, don’t stop.” You begged, tears pricking behind your eyes as your hips stuttered. It was so close, you could feel it, you were teetering right on the edge. You just needed a bit more. “Ah, faster, please, I’m almost there.”

Sanji groaned and dropped his forearms from your thighs, winding his hands up to instead grip your hips harshly. Never faltering the movements of his tongue, Sanji rocked your hips for you, nearly crushing your cunt against his mouth with the fast, hard pace he’d forced upon your hips. You let your body fall lax as Sanji manhandled you easily, guiding your body to the utmost point of pleasure, tongue leaving your clit to shove between your folds and wiggle inside your tight channel.

Sanji’s moans now rivaled yours in volume, and had you been in your right mind, you probably would have been concerned about whether or not someone could hear the lewd activities unfolding within the galley — but Sanji was effectively tongue fucking all coherency out of your brain, eyes locked on yours and that little ball scraping against the bottom wall of your cunt and driving you absolutely feral.

“Fucking shit, Sanji, it feels so good.” You moaned, fingers scratching against his scalp in appreciation, your hips trembling under his hands and that coil winding so tightly you were sure you were going to start cramping from it if it didn’t snap soon. “Keep fucking doing that, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Sanji’s right hand curled forward until he could slide his fingertips against your clit, the combined stimulation of his tongue plunging into your cunt and firm fingertips rubbing circles into your clit nearly instantly snapping that coil. Your other hand swung down to grip his hair as well, and your hips bucked with abandon against his face as your orgasm ripped through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!” You chanted, upper body curling around Sanji’s head as your hips twitched and your clit throbbed under his fingers. Sanji never slowed his caresses, didn’t once stop your movements, not until the waves of your orgasm had faded and the pleasure quickly turned into something unpleasant.

Sanji’s tongue slipped out of your cunt wetly, his hand giving your hip a slight squeeze as his other retracted from your clit, and as you sat dazed and breathless, still riding the high of your orgasm, Sanji maneuvered your bodies until he was now standing between your shaking thighs, his hands coming up to rest on either side of your neck.

“Are you okay, love?” Sanji asked gently, and all you could do was nod with a goofy sort of smile on your face. That had felt absolutely amazing, and your body was still buzzing, still hot and so, so fuzzy from the aftershocks. You leaned your forehead into Sanji’s chest, inhaling the subtle scent of his cologne, your near liquified arms coming up to wrap around his middle.

For a few moments, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped around each other, until Sanji finally broke the silence.

“You looked so amazing when you came, doll.”

The words were hot, spoken lowly with something akin to reverence, but there was something else eddying beneath them, something that told you there was more to the statement than just what he’d said. Your suspicions were confirmed when Sanji slid his hands from your neck and wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling your lower half flush against his, and your breath halted in your lungs when you felt the searing heat of his clothed cock against your core. It was fucking massive — and Sanji’s next lowly growled words sent a shiver up your spine.

“I can’t wait to see you when you cum on my cock.”

#opla #opla sanji #opla x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji x reader

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obaex · 3 months

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island breeze + lights down low - rafe cameron

summary: rafe can't keep his eyes off of you, so he decides to do something about it

word count: 1.2k

a/n: so excited to break my little hiatus with this! just a little something something that has me dreaming of summer nights like this.

the vibe: fantasy / alina baraz + galimatias

The tequila tingled on your tongue, sending heat to your cheeks that matched the subtle sunburn from your afternoon at the beach. The salty air was thick against the breeze coming off the ocean, which was crashing just a few yards away from the club you and your friends were at for the night. The music floated between the palm trees, rocking them as the sun dove into the skyline, spraying the night sky with the last of its deep orange rays. String lights twinkled above you as your heeled feet carried you to the dancefloor where you joined your friends and lost yourself in the music.

Dark blue eyes traced your figure, traced the way your hair blew in the ocean breeze, the way your dress hugged you in all the right places, and the carefree, relaxed smile that rested permanently on your perfect lips.

It was getting harder and harder to pretend he wasn't captivated by you, trying to distract himself with another beer, with his friends, his eyes always seeming to find you again in the crowd. He swore he wasn't doing it on purpose; it's not like he'd never seen a beautiful girl before, he practically ran this island, he was well acquainted with every girl it had to offer - what made you different, he didn't know. Perhaps it was the fact that you seemed... genuine. You were enjoying yourself for yourself, you weren't there to show off, you didn't care who was watching, you were having fun. Something about your carefree confidence was incredibly sexy and before he really had time to think about it, Rafe was on his feet walking towards you.

You felt his presence before you saw him; your friends exchanging wide-eyed looks over your shoulder stirring you to turn around. Your eyes met his immediately, sapphire blue, twinkling in the twilight. A confident smirk rested on his lips and you couldn't help but to smile in return, biting your bottom lip in response. His hair was buzzed short and at this close distance you could see the freckles on his nose against his tan skin, could smell him, a scent that reminded you of clean laundry and sandalwood.

He leaned over to be heard against the loud music, cheek grazing yours.

"You're not from around here" he said, cutting through any pleasantries.

"You make a habit of knowing every girl on this island?" you replied smartly, pulling back just far enough to see the look in his eyes, your noses nearly brushing one another.

"Only the pretty ones" he said, not missing a beat nor giving up an inch of space between you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your cool confidence while your stomach did somersaults.

"Dance with me" he said.

It wasn’t a question, it was more of a demand, like he knew the word 'no' wouldn't be found anywhere in your repertoire. You blushed, your mind scrambling for a witty reply, but he didn't wait for one as he took in your flustered energy and reached for your hands, curling your fingers into his and pulling you forward as he walked backwards onto the dancefloor. It was a simple gesture, but in the low light, the sticky humidity, with the steady thump of the bass coursing through your veins, there was something absolutely sultry about the way his hands, his fingers, slipped around yours.

His eyes never left you, making you feel like melted honey, like the edges of your vision blurred to only focus on him. He pulled you deep into the crowd of bodies that enveloped you, separating you from reality and he pulled you into his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

You could have died on the spot at the feeling of being pressed against him as his signature scent overwhelmed you. You could feel his warmth, feel his taught muscles underneath his loose-fitting linen shirt. You ran your hands over his shoulders and circled his neck, running your fingers through the short hair there, eliciting a sound from him that was something between a sigh and a groan.

You were flush to each other now and even though you were sure he could feel your heart hammering against his, you weren't tense; whether it was the tequila or the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your dress, you were the most relaxed you'd been all night. His body against your own was easy, unforced, rhythmic. You were like two missing puzzle pieces put back together, not a hint of awkward tension or apprehension. You rocked and swayed to the beat as songs blended one into the next, though neither of your noticed, completely in your own world.

Occasionally your eyes would find each other, your noses mere centimeters from touching and you'd meet his electric gaze with your own before looking away - it was getting harder and harder to deny how badly you wanted to kiss him.

The next time it happened he caught you off guard by pulling you insistently into him, cheek to cheek, his lips brushing your ear to ensure he could be heard over the DJ.

"You've got to stop that" he said, low, deep, with a serious laugh.

You pulled back to meet his gaze, giving him a confused look.

"Stop what?" you asked earnestly.

"Looking at me like that" he said.

You smiled, tilting your head to look flirtatiously at him.

"I'm serious!" he said in a mock-threatening tone "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll have no choice but to kiss you.”

Your breath caught in your lungs, but you didn't flinch, didn't bat an eyelash. Instead, you pulled yourself closer to him, teasing him, taunting him, your lips just out of his reach.

"I swear to God" he mumbled against you, your final warning "Once I kiss you, I'm not going to be able to stop."

"Who says I'd want you to?" you replied, and before the last word had left your lips one of his hands left your waist and came to trace your jaw, your cheek, the cool touch of the ring on his finger in the heat of the moment sending an involuntary chill through your body as he grasped your face.

His lips melded against yours and you sunk into him in full abandon, not caring who was watching as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your lips hot and wet against his, your tongues finding each other immediately. He nearly lifted you off the ground in an effort to pull you closer to him, every inch of you alight as he grasped you bruisingly tight to him. Your body was an electric guitar and he was a goddamn rock star.

The ocean could have flooded the beach, washing the world away and you two wouldn't have let go of each other. You lost track of time as your hands tugged desperately at his shirt, as your fingers coursed over his short hair, as his hands roamed your body. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours before you parted, only for a second, as he took you in, his pupils blown wide, breathing heavily. He took in your cheeks flushed with desire for him, your lips plump and swollen, your chest rising and falling, matching his own.

"Well, fuck" he whispered against your lips, realizing just how far gone he already was for you.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @callsign-tangerine, @jjsbank444

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe fanfiction #obx rafe #outer banks #obx fanfiction

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mixelation · 24 days

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oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u

In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on.

In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution.

“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”

Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died.

(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)

He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne.

Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that.

Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?

She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately.

“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said.

“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”

Tori pouted some more.

“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?”

A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home.

“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”

Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”

“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”

Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”

“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”

“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”

“Deidara will love this,” Tori said.

“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly.

They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around.

He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm.

Hmm.

Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying.

Tori decided to change her strategy.

xXx

“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi.

“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”

Tori shook her head.

“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”

“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”

Neither did I, Tori thought.

She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay.

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”

“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.”

Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her.

Oh well. She tried.

xXx

When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip.

He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers.

“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”

Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him.

“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly.

Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”

Tori stood.

“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”

She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age.

“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious.

Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?

“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap.

“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”

Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides.

“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”

“What?” Obito full-on squeaked.

He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him.

His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something.

Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him.

The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him.

Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge.

“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides.

“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her.

His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori.

He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips.

“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said.

Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his.

I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back.

Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain.

She broke the kiss first.

“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked.

It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot.

“For you? Always,” he replied.

She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that.

There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?

“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked.

Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.

#reborn au au: it's gotten sillier #my writing #toriverse

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chelseachilly · 9 months

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THIS LOVE - chapter four | you can hear it in the silence

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.2k

summary: you try to keep your distance from ben after italy, but after a terrible day, there's no one else you'd rather be with. i wonder why that is...

A/N: sorry it took longer than usual to update guys, it's been a very busy week for me! this one's a bit short as well but the next will be longer. i'm so happy the prem is back and we're getting so much good ben content though, the chelsea media team is keeping us well fed (and inspired one line of this chapter lol). title is from you are in love by taylor swift 🙈

previous chapter | view all chapters

Your plan when you got back to London seemed almost foolproof at the time.

You picked up a bunch of shifts at work, more than you would ever normally take on in one week. If you’re constantly working, then that gives you 1) an excuse not to attend any more events with Ben and 2) a good distraction from the developing feelings you’re experiencing for him.

The facts are simple.

He is your best friend in the world. He most certainly doesn’t return whatever weird feelings you’re having. Nothing is going to happen.

You’re sure it’s just a weird side-effect of this fake dating you’ve been doing, but that’s just playing pretend.

Seeing him return to his usual ways - that perhaps he never left - of sleeping with beautiful models, firmly planted you back in the real world.

And there’s nothing that can help you snap out of your fantasy life than a double shift in an East London emergency department.

By the end of the week, you’re burnt out, exhausted, and you’re coming off what might be the worst shift you’ve ever had. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong, and it takes all your energy just to make it home on the tube and get yourself up the stairs to your flat afterward.

You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, sleep, eat, or something else entirely when you finally make it to your couch and collapse into it.

Some time passes - you’re not sure if it’s minutes or hours - without you moving a muscle, your face buried in a pillow as you try to forget about your nightmare day. You’re snapped out of it when there’s a knock on your door.

You’re not expecting anyone, but you reluctantly force yourself off the couch and trudge your way over to open it.

And there stands Ben, who you haven’t seen or really spoken to except a few texts in a week and a half. Perfect.

“Ben, what are you doing here?”

You’re aware it’s not the most polite greeting, but you don’t really have much more than that in you.

“Are you alright?” Ben asks as soon as he has a moment to take you in, his eyes scanning your face. “You didn’t answer my call yesterday or my texts this morning, I was worried.”

Although you missed the texts because your phone was off at work and haven’t had the energy to check your messages since, you did dodge his call.

“I’m fine, I just had a long day at work and I-“ You pause as it dawns on you what day it is, as well as the fact that Ben is dressed a bit more smartly than usual, in black trousers and a nice leather jacket. “Oh, shit. The Nike thing. I completely forgot.”

You had agreed weeks ago to attend a big flashy party for Nike as Ben’s date tonight, but as you focused all your energy on work this week it completely slipped your mind.

“I’m sorry, just give me a few minutes to get changed and I’ll-“

“Hey, hey,” Ben says softly, stepping into your flat and closing the door behind him. “Forget about the party, is something wrong?”

You shake your head. “I just had a rough day at work.”

Ben nods, gesturing for you to go on, and something about the sincere worry in his eyes makes it impossible for you to remain closed off from him.

“We were really understaffed, and it was just one thing after another and then I lost a patient and I just-“

You cut yourself off as you feel that you’re about to cry, the sheer weight of your awful day and week catching up with you, but Ben can see it in the way your lip is trembling slightly and you’re avoiding eye contact with him.

“It’s alright, come here,” he says, stepping closer and pulling you into his arms before you can insist that you don’t need to be comforted. You definitely do, and there’s no better comfort on earth than Ben’s hugs.

He holds you close against him, letting you hide your face in his chest, and you can’t resist letting out a few sobs now that he’s opened the emotional floodgates.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Ben says so softly that it almost makes you cry harder. “I’ve got you.”

Slowly, and never breaking contact, Ben shuffles you both backward until the back of your legs hits the couch and eases you both into a seated position. He pulls you even closer so your legs are draped over his lap and your face rests in the crook of his neck, his hands slowly rubbing your back as your sobs taper off into quiet whimpers.

You can feel everything bad and stressful about today slowly leave your body with every soothing murmur and stroke of Ben’s warm hand against your back.

He’s like an instant cure for everything wrong with the world, and it occurs to you that a big part of your terrible mood is probably the result of not seeing him for longer than usual.

Now that you’re back in his presence, in the strong arms that have held you when you were eight and you scraped your knee falling off a bike and when you were sixteen and a boy broke your heart for the first time, you never want to leave.

You’re no longer crying when you finally find the strength to pull away from him and look him in the eye.

Ben releases you but keeps his hands firmly on your arms as he examines your face with worried eyes and a creased brow.

“Are you alright?” he asks barely above a whisper.

You nod, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Sorry, I guess this week was just a bit overwhelming.”

“You’ve been working a lot lately, yeah?”

“Yeah, well, have to pay the bills,” you shrug, as if that’s the only reason you’ve been drowning yourself in shifts on purpose.

You do regret the comment slightly as Ben’s mouth opens and you know what he’s going to say before he even says it.

“Y/N, if you ever need money, you know-“

“Ben,” you interrupt. “I don’t need money, I’m fine. It was just a stressful week, but I’ve got a few days off now.”

You’ve had this dispute before, with Ben freaking out whenever you seem overworked and insisting on covering some of your expenses. You never take him up on it, obviously. You do mostly love your job and helping people, and Ben knows that. He just worries about you.

“Alright, fine,” Ben accepts. “Now why don’t we order some food and pick something to watch?”

You blink at him in confusion. “What? What about the Nike thing?”

Ben shrugs. “I’ll skip it. No big deal.”

“Ben-“

“Y/N, you had a shit day, you’re not going to some dumb party, and I’m not leaving you alone.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s his job to take care of you when you’re sad. Like he’s more than just your friend.

You can’t help but smile at his sincere expression, and how he’s gently rubbing your calf that’s still draped over his lap, as if you touch each other like this in private all the time.

“I thought you said it would be a fun party?” you raise an eyebrow. “Or were you just trying to trick me into it?”

Ben laughs. “Well, it might be alright. A couple of the boys are gonna be there. But not as fun as watching a film with you.”

There it is again - that damn fluttering in your chest that is equal parts exciting and terrifying.

Suddenly, doing anything with Ben sounds pretty good. Even a dumb party.

“You know what, let’s go,” you say, wiping any remaining tears from your cheeks. “There’s no point in this whole fake dating thing if we don’t commit, right?”

“Are you sure?” Ben asks, frowning a bit. “We really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure. Let me go get changed.”

You get ready fairly quickly, putting on your go-to little black dress and comfiest heels, because you did just work a 12-hour day. You make your hair look presentable and apply a bit of makeup.

It’s nothing special, but the look on Ben’s face when you walk out of your bedroom says otherwise.

The stress of your day continues to fade away to nothing as you and Ben make your way over to the party. Ben drives as they have a match Sunday so he won’t be drinking anything, and he loudly sings along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio in a clear attempt to cheer you up. It’s definitely working.

The party is a cool, lively affair at the Nike HQ. There are loads of athletes there, some that you recognize from television and some that you know through Ben.

As you navigate the party, chatting with some Nike execs and some of Ben’s past and present teammates, Ben maintains some kind of physical touch with you. His fingers intertwined with yours as you walk in; his arm around your waist as you talk to his mates; his hand rubbing gentle circles on your lower back as you order a drink.

You don’t know if it’s the fact that this is an event hosted by one of his biggest sponsors and he wants to play up the “man in love” thing or if he’s still trying to comfort you, but you can’t help hoping it’s the latter.

After a while, Ben is approached by someone from Nike asking if he can do a short interview for social media.

“Your girlfriend is welcome to join too,” the woman says nicely, flashing you a smile.

“You don’t have to,” Ben whispers in your ear, but you just shrug.

Normally you would shy away from any press, but maybe a part of you doesn’t mind being called his girlfriend tonight.

“I’ll do it,” you say with a small smile at the interviewer.

Ben keeps his arm protectively around your waist as the interview begins, glancing at you from time to time to make sure you’re alright.

They ask him a few questions about football before diving into the personal stuff, which you know is juicer for social media.

“So, Ben, we see you’ve brought your lovely girlfriend Y/N here tonight,” the interviewer says. “How does she keep you grounded during the hectic football season?”

You tense a bit as you wonder what Ben is going to say, or if he’s going to be able to come up with anything on the spot, but he barely takes a second to respond.

“She’s such a calming presence in my life, really,” Ben says, squeezing your waist slightly. “She’s a nurse, so her job is infinitely harder than mine, and she still supports me emotionally whenever I hit a low point with my career. She’s…just the best person I know.”

Your heart is beating so wildly that you’re worried Ben is going to be able to tell, but you don’t have much time to stop being flustered before she’s directing a question at you.

“Y/N, I’ve heard that you two have known each other for quite some time before your relationship began,” she says. “What’s your favourite thing about Ben?”

There are a million things that come to mind right away, most of which feel too personal to share.

You love how he takes care of the people in his life without expecting anything in return. You love how he cries every time you watch Marley and Me together, even though he’s seen it a thousand times. You love close he is with his family and how he calls his mum every Sunday night just to chat.

You love…

“I love how positive he is,” you say after a moment when you realize it’s taking you too long to answer. “He’s overcome a lot of adversity in his career, but he always has a smile on his face and makes everyone around him feel better by being in his presence.”

While you try to keep your answer somewhat football-related, since this is a work function, it’s also completely true.

And when Ben looks at you with that same bright smile, you think he knows that.

“Well, it seems love is in the air at Nike HQ tonight,” the interviewer swoons. “I hope you both have a nice evening, and we wish you all the best this season, Ben.”

As she leaves you standing there alone with Ben, trying to process the weight of your feelings, he turns to smile at you and tightens his grip on your waist.

When you meet his gaze and your stomach churns, you know two things for certain.

The first is that you’re in love with your best friend. It’s absolutely terrifying, due in part to the fact that you think you may have been in love with him without realizing it for a long time, but there’s no disputing it anymore.

The second is that you’re going to have to end this fake relationship before someone gets hurt.

You just hope it’s not too late.

a/n: let me know what you thought, predictions, etc!! love chatting with all of you and your comments/asks make my day! <3 tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe @batmansb1tch @ncentic @myheartgoesvroom @chillymountsjess @babygirlbenji @delicateearthquakellama @joyfullyswimmingface @xxenia14 @chaotic-taco-collector-blog (let me know if you would like to be added or if i missed you!)

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea fc imagine #this love #my fics

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

Note

I would like to request a fic of f*MC, who is an unspeakable, and Sebastian Sallow, who is an auror, as husband and wife. They were on an intense mission together and they almost died. The moment they apparate home they still feel the intensity of what happened and they immediately start kissing each other and end up having “end of the world” type sex.

I hope you like te request and I can’t wait what you do with it!

Thank you for this Ask 💜 I hope this alright 👍

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC 🔥🌶 NSFW - violence and smut

Years of practise meant that Sebastian was one with the shadows, moving quickly and quietly, eyes alert and wand ready. He paused, eyes adjusting in the dark as he peered around a pillar of ancient stone. A fire pit danced in the darkness and the shadows of moving figures bent crazily across the stone wall.

Dressed all in black, the collar of his Auror coat pulled up to his chin, Sebastian waited, his ears pricking up at the sound of low voices. The men guarding the entrance had been nothing but foot soldiers, the muscle, and Sebastian had taken them down easily enough. Now, he was near the inner chamber of this research den, and the wizards here had hearts blacker than coal.

He turned his gaze to the far side of the room, a faint shimmer catching his eye. He watched as it warped in an out, moving carefully towards the corridor where he was hidden. When it came to a pause beside him, ducking behind the opposite pillar, the shimmer flickered into a solid shape.

Also dressed in black, her hair pulled back from her face revealing the mouth watering curve of her jaw, was MC. Despite the situation, he could not help but take a beat to appreciate the woman beside him. She had been at his side since they were 15, and he couldn't imagine her not being there now. Impossible.

Her eyes moved to him, fire pit flames glittering in their shadowed depths. He caught the flash of her smile and it still had the power to make his stomach flutter. He raised a questioning eyebrow to her, his wife, his partner, his everything.

She nodded. Her inspection of the north passage had been a success. The relic was here, which meant that the wizards the Auror office were hunting would most likely be here too. Good. He was ready for a fight.

They took out the first two quietly, the bodies slumping to the floor, but then the real fun began. Spells seared through the dimly lit room, the sparks dancing around the shadows of flickering flames. Husband and wife duelled as if in a dance, their movements fluid and a complement to each other's bodies.

Room clear, they took the north passage and ran with light steps, crouching near the entrance to the relic atrium. Sebastian's blood was up, his breath fast and shallow. MC was coiled like a spring, but she was more patient, monitoring the situation. That relic was her main interest here, not the fight. As an Unspeakable, research was paramount, and that relic had been on her most wanted list for months. They could not afford to fuck this up.

So, when Sebastian ran in, wand poised and spells flying. MC had to grit her teeth at her husband's recklessness. Some things never changed.

The head of operations here was a tall, smartly dressed man, well spoken, and Wanted in ten countries. To deliver him to the Ministry would be a career highlight. To see him floating midair and bound with chains was very satisfying. Sebastian stood admiring his work as MC took down the last of his lackeys.

Their captured prize began to chuckle, a dark, rumbling sound that drew Sebastian's brows together in irritation. MC approached the relic, careful, intrigued. Sebastian glanced between his prisoner and his wife, realisation setting in almost a beat too late.

He reached out a hand towards her, a shout on his lips, as a ear shattering crack split the air. MC was blown back away from the relic with a blinding flash of light. She didn't even make a sound as her body flew up and back, her arms flailing out.

Fear like never before seized Sebastian, and all the while, the prisoner cackled in manic laughter. Sebastian moved fast, a flick of his wand shot his spell out, capturing MC and slowing her down, but not enough to stop her hitting the far wall. She slid down to the floor, slumping there, unmoving.

Prisoner forgotten, he ran to her, sliding to his knees before scooping her up, checking her vital signs. With his hands pressed to her throat to check for a pulse, a searing pain sliced across his back. He turned, pain screaming through him.

His prisoner had snapped his chains and had his wand poised. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Revenge would be sweet when it came, but for now, he had other priorities. Scooping up MC, he drew on the last of his strength and Apparated them both out of there.

....*....

The first pale fingers of dawn were creeping across the sky when MC finally opened her eyes. She winced, muscles stiff, and glanced around the familiar bedroom. Beside her on the bed were the remains of healing Potions, cloths stained with blood and what looked like Dittany paste. She sat up, blinking drowsily, and then stilled.

Sebastian was sitting on the chair at the dressing table, his body slumped forward, arms dangling loosely at his sides. She couldn't see his face, it was turned away from her, but his back made her gape in horror.

His flesh was sliced as though ravaged by claws, the skin puckered up into thick red wounds, the blood trails dark against his paleness. She scrambled across the bed, her feet hitting the floor with a thud, a dizzy spell sent her staggering, but she stumbled towards him anyway. Gripping his shoulder, she shook him, hard. "Sebastian!"

Nothing. Panic made her throat tight. "Fuck, fuck, no," she rasped. She saw more evidence of attempts to heal and felt tears sting her eyes. He had tried to help himself, and no doubt had tried to help her first, it was him all over. She moved around him, hands on his head to look at his face. He was grey, his lips even paler. "Sebastian, wake up, it's me. Please!"

Her fingers fumbled as she found Wiggenweld, and tipped it down his throat. Nothing. She tried other potions, the salve and a basic healing charm. Still the wounds refused to close. The limp, pale look of him made fear snap at her insides, but she wasn't going to give up. Not on him. Never.

She took her wand, and dug deep, fighting her own dizzying trembles to draw on her Ancient Magic. She slowly sealed the wounds on his back, the flickering blue and white tendrils knitting his flesh. Then she pulled him from the chair, laying him as gently as she could manage on the floor, before placing her palms on his chest.

"Please," she begged. Her cheeks were damp with tears she hadn't even noticed. "Don't you dare fucking leave me."

She closed her eyes and channeled the magic through her palms. The glow of her magic warmed his chilly flesh, the swirls like delicate smoke strands coiling intricately around her hands before seeping into him. In her mind she let memories flood outwards, swirling moments of laughter, soft touches, the feel of his lips, the day he asked her to be his wife. She imagined their clasped hands, their bodies entwined in rumpled sheets, the energy and magnetism of fighting by his side.

"Come back to me," she whispered. "Sebastian, come back."

With a cry of relief, she felt his chest heave beneath her hands. His lips sucked in a breath and his eyes opened wide. He looked up at her, gasping. "What happened?" He croaked.

....*....

They sat at the kitchen table nursing cups of tea, the remains of breakfast on the table around them. They had eaten in silence, both of them shaken and processing. The fear of what might have been hovering behind their shoulders with cold teeth, refusing to let them forget.

MC pulled her cardigan closer around her, fighting a shiver. She felt his gaze and looked up. There was colour in his cheeks now. He looked like her Sebastian. "What?" She whispered.

"I thought you were dead," he said. The words seemed to catch in his throat and he had to look down.

She swallowed. The words hit her hard. She remembered how he had looked when she had found him. There were no words to describe the hollow, black hole of fear and loss that had threatened to swallow her at that sight.

"We fucked up," she said. She put her palms to her forehead and leant on the table. "We lost the relic, we lost him, and we nearly lost our lives. What the fuck happened?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

MC looked at him, her fear was still there, mocking her and she smothered it with anger. She shoved her chair back from the table and stood, turning to begin pacing their little kitchen. "Why do you always have to be so reckless? You went storming into that room, as per usual, and then everything was fucked up."

"So, this is all my fault?" He gaped. He made a fist against the table top. "If you weren't so obsessed with that fucking relic, maybe you would have taken the time to notice the charms placed around it!"

"It's a bit rich to be preaching to me about obsessing over relics," she snapped back. She pushed a hand through her hair. "You can be such a hypocrite sometimes."

He shot out of his chair and made a grab for her. His hand gripped her arm and he definitely had his strength back. "You're really going to go there?"

MC looked up at him, stared into those eyes that she knew so well. Eyes that had nearly closed on her forever. Her anger evaporated, and all that was left was her fear and her pain. She shook her head. "I thought I had lost you," she gasped. Tears sprang up into her eyes. "You were fucking dead, Sebastian! I had to bring you back, because...because none of it is worth it if you're gone. None of it."

His throat worked as he stared back at her, his grip on her arm tightened.

"Don't make me ever see you like that again," she said. "I can't..."

His arms swallowed her up and crushed her against his chest. She clung to him as though he would vanish if she ever let go. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, firmly. "Not without you."

His mouth pressed kisses into her hair, over her forehead and down to her ear. She lifted her face to him and he claimed her mouth, his kiss a demand and a promise. She gripped his shirt, tugging at the material, pulling at the buttons desperately until they gave way. They pinged free, spinning across the room to clatter across the floor. She needed to feel his skin, his warmth. Feel him alive under her hands.

His hunger for her burned as fiercely, he rid her of her cardigan and blouse, hands seeking out her soft curves. He lifted her, perching her on the edge of the table, cups and plates shoved messily out of the way. Cutlery clattered to the floor.

His mouth tortured the skin of her neck, sucking the soft skin into blooming bruises, proof that her heart beat for him, she was alive. There was nothing gentle about their movements, it was a primal need to join, an instinct. Her legs wrapped around him, possessive, needy and his fingers sought out her searing heat.

MC's head dipped back, a low moan drawn from her lips as he stroked and teased, shifting to press his arousal against her ready folds. She braced her arms against the table behind her, back arched, giving him a glorious view of her breasts. He swirled a tongue over one hardened peak and thrust deeply into her.

Sebastian had fucked his wife many times, but this time there was something deeper, a rawness to it that shook him to the core. His fingers dug into her hips, gripping her as he thrust harder and faster, watching her breasts bounce with his relentless rhythm. The sounds that tore from her lips drove him wild, the sheen of sweat forming on her chest made him want to press the flat of his tongue against it and drown in her scent.

The table shuddered beneath them, the legs scraping against the floor, dishes rattled and still he pressed. She reached out a hand, pressing the palm to his chest, her cheeks were flooded with beautiful colour. She looked alive, beautiful.

The tone of her cries shifted, he could see the flush of warmth spreading across her skin, the subtle tightening around his cock. He rolled his hips, hitting that little sweet spot, his lips parted as he watched her come undone, a string of saliva hanging from his lip.

He looked down at his cock sliding into her, the slick pulsing to coat him with shiny wetness. With a deep groan of release he buried himself inside her heat, his cock pulsing almost painfully, his breath a hot gasp through his lips.

MC sat up, her arms circling his neck, pulling him closer. He buried his face into her hair, savouring the sound of her breathing, the warmth of her embrace and the rapid beat of her precious heart.

Losing her would be the end of his world, and knowing that she felt the same was more precious, more sacred, than any relic or career-making arrest.

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #blueraineshadows

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theycallmebecca · 1 year

Note

Can I request either Ari or Chris jealousy prompt “do you ever ask why I get this way? Maybe it’s because - y’know what, never mind”

Hey nonny! Thanks for this fantastic prompt! I wrote most of this the other day and I had another ending in mind.. but it just wasn't working with me... but oh well.

This Memorial Day weekend, I’m accepting prompts. The information (and links to stories written for it) are in this post.

Title: Secrets of the Heart

Pairing: Ari Levinson x female reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.

Women love Ari.

Ari loves women.

You love Ari.

Ari loves you like a best friend.

You sigh into your drink as another woman stops Ari on his way back to your table. You avert your eyes, not wanting to see the same routine they all do when they see him in a bar.

She’ll touch his arm.

He’ll flex his biceps.

She’ll giggle and coo over his “big strong muscles”.

He’ll give her a panty melting smile.

She’ll give him her number.

He’ll pocket the number and promise to call her.

She’ll go back to her friends, who will all giggle and steal glances at him.

He’ll come back to your table and drop into his seat like nothing has happened.

“What’s that face about?” he asks, picking up his beer and taking a swig of it.

“Just thinking,” you lie as you adjust your expression. He doesn’t know you’re in love with him and it’s better that way. Afterall, you are the opposite of his type, judging by the women he’s gone out with.

“Sounds serious,” he says, leaning forward. Then, because he doesn’t have a serious bone in his body, adds, “Tell Ari what’s troubling you.”

“I’m on my period and I have cramps,” you say, knowing that will make him uncomfortable. “So I’ve decided to go home.”

He cringes at the womanly stuff, but his expression turns to a frown when you say you’re leaving. “You haven’t finished your beer,” he says.

“I don’t need the calories,” you state as you stand up. “I ordered an Uber so you can stay and -” You motion in the general direction of the woman he was flirting with. “- do whatever.”

You don’t wait for him to respond as you cross the bar as quickly as you can. You have no intention on going straight home, instead, you plan to walk the two blocks to the ice cream parlor where you’ll get your favorite ice cream and eat it while you wait for the Uber to pick you up.

It’s still early in the evening, so you aren’t alone on the street as you walk to your next destination lost in thought. You know breaking ties with Ari would make your life a little easier, but the thought of not having him in your life is more heartbreaking than watching him flirt with nameless women in front of you.

You’re waiting for the light to change around the corner from the ice cream shop when an all to familiar voice says, “I thought you said you ordered an Uber.”

Spinning around, you stare at Ari in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you,” he counters, pulling you out of the way as another group of people walk past.

One of the women in the group stops and looks at his hand on your arm before looking at you. “Are you ok?” she asks.

Ari smartly let’s go and takes a step back, but you nod and assure the woman that you’re fine.

She glares at him and then takes his picture of the two of you with her phone. “Just in case,” she says then she walks away.

Ari curses under his breath before turning to you. “Why are you acting like this?” he asks, his tone calmer, likely to avoid anyone else stopping.

“Why are you following me?” you counter. “I told you I was leaving so you could go home with that wannabe model.”

Ari lets out a satisfied noise. “And there it is,” he says in a sarcastic tone. “The real reason you left the bar.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you demand.

“You always do this,” he says, throwing his hands up. “It’s Thursday, our night. Yeah, I flirted with her, but I wasn’t going to ditch you for her. I don’t even know her.”

You roll your eyes. Not knowing a woman has never stopped him from taking her home.

“You know what, fine,” Ari says. “Leave. Go home. I’ll see you later.”

“Do you ever ask why I get this way?” you call after his retreating back, the words coming out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He pauses and turns to look at you, his face unreadable.

“Maybe it’s because -” His eyes roll, obviously expecting another dumb excuse and you get control of your tongue. “- y’know what, never mind, fuck you, Ari Levinson.”

Taking advantage of the green light, you race across the street, embarrassed that you almost spilled your secret to that asshole.

A series of honks makes you turn and you see Ari running across the street, traffic lights be damned.

“Because why, damn it?” he demands once he reaches you. “I fucking need to know.”

“Ari, please, don’t,” you beg softly. “I -”

“Because I can tell you why I go home with those wannabe models,” he says. “Because I can’t be with the one person I want to be with.” He tilts your chin so he can look you in the eye. “You.”

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at him. “What?” Your brain is too stunned to say anything more.

“It’s always been you,” he says. “Just you. Perfect you.”

“But I’m not your type,” you state.

“You are my type,” he argues. “I only date the wannabes because they don’t look like you, don’t act like you… because they aren’t you. If I can’t have you, I don’t want a substitute. For the longest time, I’ve just been your best friend and I accepted that fact. But I want more, I need more. I want you, all of you.”

“You do?”

“I do,” he whispers. “But the question now is, do you?”

“Yes,” you say, on the verge of tears. “Ari, yes, always.”

“Thank fuck,” he says before he pushes you up against the brick wall of the closest building and kisses you, ignoring the cat calls and the ‘get a room’ comments from people passing you on the street.

That first kiss is better than you ever imagined it would be. The second kiss is even better than the first.

Pulling away, Ari rests his forehead against yours and says, “How about we get some ice cream then go back to your place. I think the rest of this conversation would be better in private.”

"Yes," you reply, looking down at your hand that clasped in his. "Ari."

His eyes meet yours in question.

"I love you," you say, needing him to know the full extent of your feelings for him.

"I love you, too," he replies.

#theycallmebecca #theycallmebeccawrites #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fan fiction #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x y/n #Becca writes drabbles

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delirious-donna · 11 months

Text

Chapter 4: Igniting the Fuse

pairing: Kento Nanami x female reader

tw: professor/student dynamic, reader is 21, reader is described as having hair that could be tied into a ponytail, reader is pretty yandere in places, lewd talking, reader being caged against a desk, this is the build up before the full on smutty smut, explicit content in this and all subsequent chapters

summary: You had been his favourite. It should have stayed that way, and Professor Nanami would realise the error of his ways one way or another.

Chapter 3 | Masterlist

Nanami stumbled through the remainder of the day in an utter daze, knowing that the last two classes that passed through his doors were going to be treated to less-than-exemplary lessons. If the tuts and half-heartedly conversations were anything to go by, this development would spread quickly amongst the student populace.

Kento paced his small stage, brushed restless fingers against the stiff fabric of his charcoal grey slacks and prayed for a small miracle. In truth, he was unsure what he wanted out of this meeting and that was worse than knowing that the time fast approached.

Did he want it to be a simple acknowledgement of your behaviour and a reminder that he was the professor and that he could report you and probably should?

Did he wish to make you admit it, to force your reasoning out of those delicious-looking lips before considering his next move?

Was it far more simple than that, did he want to bend you over his polished cherrywood desk and teach you exactly who the fuck you had been playing with?

Thud.

The time for his internal debate was over.

Never before had these double doors looked both so ominous and alluring all at once. You couldn’t recall your afternoon lectures, spending the hours wondering—daring to dream—of what might happen come the allotted time you had been summoned here.

Had you been in your right mind, the thought of serious repercussions might have weighed more heavily upon you. True that there had been moments of rational thought of the consequences of your actions, suspension or at the worst, expulsion, but you dismissed it too quickly as unlikely.

Professor Nanami wanted you as much as you wanted him, that was the bottom line and everything else didn’t matter.

Your eyes fixed pointedly on his figure, his back to you as he switched off the projector that would normally show the lecture material for that lesson. The absence of the white light darkened the hall, casting shadows over the rows of seats as you stepped closer with trepidation beating wildly in your ears. It somehow made the space feel smaller, more intimate and everything suddenly felt too close and too hot.

What an imposing figure he cut; tall and broad with a waist that was slim and neat. His shirt tucked smartly into his pants and as he raised his arm, the material pulled taut across his sculpted back to reveal such thinly veiled strength.

How you longed to run your nails down that stretch of skin, to feel the muscles ripple beneath your hands and hope to make you hiss at the hit of possessive pain you’d happily deliver. You simply knew that he would be more than capable of manhandling you, tossing you around and folding you up if he so desired and you'd find out for sure if it was the last thing you did.

Nanami refused to acknowledge your presence by looking at you. Instead, he paced towards his desk and seated himself snugly in his chair. With elbows resting on the very cherrywood surface he had been thinking about moments ago, his fingers steepled and only when he was ready did his gaze rise to you walking slowly towards him.

On this particular day, you were adorned in a pale lilac sundress, your shoulders were warm from the blazing summer sun and a fresh dusting of freckles was beginning to appear within your complexion.

Adorable, he thought, before internally scowling at the mental admission.

The flowing dress played around your mid-thighs, the material contoured to your breasts whilst the rest blew about on the breeze that had followed you inside.

The soft pad of your dainty ballet pumps made the tic in his eye jump with every approaching step. He braced himself, straightened his spine and arched one sleek eyebrow when you stood before his desk. He had toyed back and forth with the idea of dragging a chair opposite but ultimately decided against it, opting to force you to stand.

“You requested my presence, Professor Nanami,” you snapped, sounding far more agitated than he had expected.

An irritated hand flew to push back the locks of hair that had fallen into your sweet face. He smiled, the barest hint of emotion flickering over his stubbled jaw. Kento had been clean-shaven as he started his day but as the clock signalled home time, the start of light scruff to pester his chin and jaw were evident enough. It roughened his appearance all the more, a stark reminder that he was rugged and mature, unlike the boys from your year.

He watched as you nervously chewed your lip the longer he remained silent. The enjoyment of seeing you sweat thrilled him to the core. The first hint of uncertainty to taint your impish face, warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the sun, and the almost imperceptible shift of your hips that spoke volumes of your nerves.

“Any ideas why I might wish to have a chat with you?”

Kento quashed the smirk that tried to rise to his mouth when you gave a small involuntary jump at finally being addressed. It had been a good minute consisting of the pair of you doing nothing but stare at one another. Determined hazel eyes waged a silent war for dominance with the pair opposite him, who would blink first?

Your thick lashes blinked much too rapidly.

He took even himself by surprise with the brazen rake of his gaze up and down your body. The stoic blond professor took his time with his inspection; noted the subtle press of your thighs, and the twitching fingers that idled by your sides until you clasped your hands behind your back.

A stupid move which only served in thrusting your chest forward even more prominently, your cleavage scrutinised for the longest time before he moved on to track up the column of your slender throat and finally your face.

“I didn’t realise I was going to be quizzed, if I had known then I might have revised…”

“That,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

He stood abruptly, and with measured strides, he circled the desk until he was directly behind your far smaller frame. His distance was closer than would be considered professional but he was in no way within your personal space, at least not yet.

“That mouth of yours is the very reason I asked for your attendance.”

Rather than turn, you twisted your head until you could see him over your shoulder and he liked what he saw. Your pupils were blown wide, a whisper-quiet pant pushed through those slightly parted lips and the very first peek of a pink tongue swiped over your lips.

Your scent reached him, warm and comforting. He fought the urge to take another step closer, to press his nose to the crook of your neck and inhale deeply. His tightly held restraint was slipping much quicker than he had assumed, one false move and it would be game over.

“You don’t like my mouth, Professor? You certainly seemed to like it when I was sucking on that pen a few weeks back. If I recall correctly, it gave you a rather obvious lift to your –”

Your words were cut short by the loud gasp to fly from your mouth. Strong hands thundered against the surface of the desk on either side of your body, and he took more than the one-step he had just wished for. His larger build effectively caged you against the desk, your bodies connected for the very first time and god if he didn’t want to groan aloud from it.

Nanami was done with playing around, you needed to know that it was more than a little dangerous to play with fire, especially with him. He could feel the tremble of your legs against his own, practically hear the beat of your erratic pulse in his own head.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, little girl? I am not one of the boys that I’ve seen fawning over you. It is foolish to think you can wrap me around your little finger so easily,” he hissed directly into your ear.

He heard your quiet whimper, and it only fed his desires–gorging himself on the reactions you were feeding him so readily.

Your head fell to his shoulder, and he allowed it. Leaning yourself into the cage of his torso afforded him an unhindered view down your pretty dress after all. You were driving him crazy, his sanity leaking out his ears with each passing second and it would not be long before he gave in to his primal instincts.

“Was that bad of me, Professor Nanami?” You cooed with that falsely innocent tone, all whilst your lower half blatantly ground against him like the sinful creature you truly were.

The sound of the silky smooth material of your dress rubbing so wantonly against the stiff, less yielding fabric of his pants was erotic. He had yet to force any kind of confession from you and already he was struggling with his want to move this along. The part of him that knew this to be wrong was silenced by the baser desires overpowering his brain, nothing but pure instinct was in the driving seat.

He ignored the question to pose another of his own, he refused to roll over so easily. He was no animal to be tamed by your hand, he would not present his vulnerable belly for affection even if a small part of him wished for it. This was still a struggle for power, and he would fight it until the very last.

“You didn’t like it when I stopped paying you attention, did you? Made you perfectly furious that I ignored your eager attempts to captivate my time and eye. Did you leave here after every week more annoyed than the previous, to be denied my attention again and again?”

Kento held your waist in one large hand to halt your continued attempts at moving against his aching erection, choosing to press you firmly against him but held in place whilst he continued his lethal sounding tirade. Every whine was like the most breathtaking symphony to his ears, each fruitless attempt to regain your freedom of movement another link to the chain of lust that bound you both together.

“Did you go back to your room each night and fuck your fingers wishing they were mine?”

How could he possibly know? Unless… had he jerked himself to thoughts of you in the same vein? Oh Professor Nanami, you naughty, naughty man…

#delirious writes #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw teacher/student

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klausinamarink · 1 month

Text

Recapturing The Sunset

written for @subeddieweek | day 2: first times

“What should we do now?”

Eddie almost jumped in his seat. Steve was still staring out to the horizon. It was dark now, save for the faint blue colors at the bottom. More stars poked through, almost in resemblance to Steve’s moles. Eddie still couldn’t forget the abrupt dryness in his mouth when Steve had stood up and taken off his sweater at Lover’s Lake, his muscled and mole-decorated back exposed to Eddie’s homosexual eyes like the queer metal gods wanted to give Eddie a good moment in his life before the Upside Down advanced on him.

Eddie coughed in a vain attempt to distract himself from his mental tangent and the sudden discomfort in his jeans.

“Uhh,” he said smartly.

read on ao3!

#klaus writes #steddie #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #bottom eddie munson #stranger things

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greatstormcat · 4 months

Text

Don’t Draw Attention

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x m!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, abuse of power, hand job, dubcon if you squint, just a hint of degradation

AN: another offering to those lovely male identifying readers who are left hungry

The first thing people had warned you in basic training was never draw attention to yourself, don’t make yourself a target for the Staff, or your life will be hell. You’d failed at this miserably so far. Currently you were stood, rigid and focused on a random point in the opposite wall while he chewed you out. Yet again. You had to focus on the wall because if you looked at him, you’d stop paying attention, again.

“Are you even listening to me now?”

“Yessir,” you blurt out unconvincingly, schooling your face into a perfect blank and trying to shut down your thoughts. He’s so close, stooping slightly to place his face close to your ear. You’re by no means a small guy but Ghost… he’s a fucking unit, and the deadliest man in the SAS according to the rumors.

“You’re my little project from now on, Private,” he says, and you can hear the nasty grin in his voice. “You’ll get used to me watching your every step from here on in. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

“You got nothing but air in that head of yours. Eh, Private?” Ghost growls in your ear, voice deep and deadly, sending a trail of cold dripping down your spine. The sensation turns to fire, however, as it reaches your cock and it twitches, stirs in those loose PT shorts you’re wearing. The thin material does nothing to hide the shifting weight of your hard-on as it grows, and you know damn well that Ghost can see it as he looks down your body.

“Look at you,” he huffs, his tone a mixture of derision and contempt. “Already desperate.”

He places his free hand on your stomach as you struggle in his hold, fingers splayed as he runs his palm over your middle in lazy circles which still your movements, then up across your chest, and lifts it up before your face. You stare at the hand in confusion for a moment, not sure what to do.

His hand moves back down across your torso, edging towards the waistband on your shorts, your breathing coming in rapid bursts as you feel him nearing your engorged cock. The muscles of your back ripple against his front, his warmth seeping into your skin, and an undeniable hardness pressing into you from his groin. With his thumb he tugs down the elasticated band roughly, cool air hitting the heated skin of your length instantly.

“Look at that,” Ghost murmurs almost proudly. “That because of me, is it?”

He teases the leaking tip with his bare knuckle, a strangled, gurgling groan ripping from your lips when he touches it.

“Settle down,” he warns. “Eyes on the door, Private. Someone could walk in here at any moment and see you getting jerked off by your Superior Officer. How would that go, d’ya think?”

Your eyes snap open towards the door, a startled breath rushing from your lungs, but your traitorous cock throbs, bouncing against your stomach. You hear his chuckle when he sees the tell-tale twitch, betraying just how fucking turned on you are by the situation and your utter lack of control. The Lieutenant wraps his hands around your length, and every muscle in your abdomen spasms at once, curling your hips into his hand, seeking his attention.

He moves his hand painfully slowly, your skin shifting smoothly with his, a deep sigh rolling from your chest. His hand never stills, but he experiments with his grip and speed, testing and exploring your reactions to find what makes you shudder and moan. All the time you’re pinned against him, if you forget to pull at his other arm you struggle to breath, his strength and control are beyond human almost.

He brings you close to the edge, and then changes his stroke, teasing you with release but always keeping it out of reach. You’re a shaking, gasping wreck as he strings out your pleasure, his harsh breathing constantly in your ear letting you know how much he is enjoying your torture. You’re sure his forearm must be bleeding under his sleeve from how hard your thick nails are biting into him, holding on for dear life while you try to drive your hips into his hand, chasing your pleasure.

Sweat covers your skin, fire pumping through your veins as he pumps your glistening cock in his meaty fist, squeezing your tip every time he passes over it. The tension builds to tightly now, abdominal muscles painfully tight. Your thighs shake and tremble uncontrollably, heels almost vibrating against the hard floor as he drives you insane with one hand, and you almost forget to breath.

“Sir…,” you grunt, barely able to form the syllable, “sir… need to…. gonna…..” you manage to say, terrified of what he’ll do if you come without him telling you to. You fight it back, muscles tight as you teeter on the precipice, the head of your cock throbbing and threatening to explode if you don’t get his command soon enough.

“Good boy, do it,” he spits into your ear and you bark a harsh cry as you orgasm. Hot, sticky spurts of cum shot forth over your stomach and his hand. Your muscles flex and your hips rock back against him, your backside grinding against the outline of his erection under you as he eases you down through the waves of electric ecstasy. His knuckles glisten, painted with your mess as he slows his stroking of your softening cock. With a satisfied grunt he lifts his hand, spreading his fingers open before you both and turning his hand slowly, as if admiring his work.

“Go and clean yerself up,” he tells you, releasing his hold around your neck and legs. You roll off of him quickly, head spinning slightly as you get to your knees and fix your shorts, silently cursing the jizz stain on your t-shirt. Almost shyly, you risk a glance at Ghost, looking at him propped up on his elbows casually as though he didn’t just gift you the best orgasm of your life. His erection strains at the front of his black combats, and for a moment you consider offering to repay him.

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dont-f-with-moogles · 17 days

Note

Can you please do aged-down levi one-shot?? I've been thinking of a hc where levi didn't know how old he actually is since they don't have birth certificate back in the underground, the fact that he never celebrate his brithday didn't really help. Since Farlan said he's 25 when they first joined the scouts, Levi just assume he's also 25 and that he's just short. Timeskip (3-4 years?) to when the 104th cadets were recently admitted, one day, Levi had a growth spurt...and even grew taller than Hange (I mean..Armin had a frickin glow up when he's 19 ish..so Levi can too :,,)

The scouts we're just like....wth...how old r u, and Levi's just like uh idk 😒.

SORRY IF THIS IS WEIRD 😭✋

The Hope of Humanity Characters: Levi x Hange, Erwin, Miche, Eren Word count: 1122 words

Pale light filtered through the window’s cross grilles, exposing patches of flaking plaster around the walls of the small room. Beneath one of the tall panes stood a wooden desk and chair, whilst a low couch of blue leather ran alongside the adjoining wall. Sitting upon it, shoulders hunched, shirt dirtied and stained with blood, huddled Eren Jaeger. The boy was holding a white cloth to his bruised, swollen face. Hange Zoe knelt before him, brandishing a cotton swab with increasing vigour.

Behind them, Mike Zaccharius had crossed the space to gaze through the other unobstructed window. He stood so immensely tall that his blonde mop of hair almost swept its top frame. Commander Erwin Smith had followed, his boots striking smartly against the parquet floor. He too stooped before Eren and extended a hand. Captain Levi was leaning back against the far wall, arms crossed with a sullen air. As he stood surveying his comrades gathered around the shivering adolescent, something struck Hange about the man’s appearance. Then, their eyes widened as Levi strode forwards slowly.

His dark hair swept gracefully into grey-blue eyes, both narrowed in contempt. There was a coolness in his expression; a muscle flexing in his jaw.

But there was something else… something intrinsic about him had changed. Broad shoulders filled out his tan, leather jacket; the sleeves no longer reached his wrists. White cotton strained across his abdomen; the buttons of Levi’s shirt threatened to slide open with each stride. Dark straps cut into his sides as he moved. Buckles were laced tight over his thighs, revealing a swell of muscle through the material of his trousers. Hange’s eyes drifted along the inside of his thigh… oh, they were snug. Very snug.

They swallowed, wrenching their gaze away as Levi threw himself down heavily beside Eren. As Levi crossed a leg over his knee, with all the fluidity of a swift kick, the boy openly whimpered. He had been on the receiving end of enough of them to fear the power of that boot.

“Hey Eren… do you resent me?”

Hange was only half-listening, their eyes mapping out the proportions of the two individuals seated in front of them. Levi’s shadow towered over the adolescent, one arm resting along the back of the couch. Eren shifted so far forward that his rear was hardly touching the seat.

Calculations clouded Hange’s mind; measurements which did not add up. Invisible lines drew themselves in the air; the scale of the diagram defying the very core of Hange’s reasoning. Then again, if they weighed up the evidence…

Hange thought back to the Scouts’ last departure from Trost. Positioned upon horseback beside one another, Hange remembered the palpable anticipation as they had waited for the great, stone gate to rise before them.

“We’ve already bagged the craziest abnormal…”

“What? Where?”

There had come a swift movement of air as Levi had swept his arm towards them. Hange had jumped as his fingers traced their chin, clutching their jaw. He eased their chin up, forcing them to meet his gaze. Their noses were inches away from each other as a teasing glint had lit Levi’s eyes.

“Right here,” he had pronounced, looking down at them…

Back in the present, Hange shook themself from their deliberation.

“Speaking of abnormals… Levi?”

Levi’s eyes slid to Hange’s face. His mouth shaped a silent syllable, perplexed by their sudden interjection. For a moment, Hange had forgotten that they had been revisiting earlier conversations in their head rather than speaking aloud.

“Pardon the intrusion Levi, but have you… experienced a growth spurt?” they blurted out, “I mean, I’ve never heard of another guy my age…”

Levi was glowering at them, the muscle in his thigh tensed.

“Who says I’m your age?”

“Oh I… I thought…” Hange was scrambling nervously. “I thought… based on everything I’ve noted about… that is, your style of leadership, the dynamics you have with the younger members of your squad, your fussiness…”

“What, have you been studying me, Four Eyes?” Levi asked dryly, “you tired of your pets already?” The lash of his voice caused the boy beside him to shiver.

Hange turned to Erwin, astonished, who returned the gesture with a solemn nod.

“Well… it’s true that Levi had no official documentation when he joined us…” the Commander explained gravely, before lifting his head to regard Levi. “Your details, including your date of birth, were simply recorded from the information you gave us.”

Levi glanced at Hange who was still gaping up at him. Eren had lowered the cloth onto his lap, pulling at its corners until the edges had frayed.

“Look, no one cared about that kinda thing in the underground.” Levi shrugged. “I only put December 25th ‘cause it was easy to remember.”

“So…” Hange’s brow furrowed as they came to a conclusion. “We have no idea of your actual age… meaning for all we know… you could be…”

Yet another memory surfaced in Hange’s mind. They recalled the very first time Levi had performed with ODM gear in front of the other scouts… Hange remembered the flash of hooks as they had launched into tree bark… the elegant arc of his body as he had spiralled upwards, his training blades glinting… It was enough to send the blood rushing into Hange’s face, much as it had done that day. But that had occurred almost six years ago… how old had Levi been exactly? The unknown chilled Hange’s insides; cooled their flushed skin with sobering caution. Levi’s manner had been practically paternal towards Isabel. He had even been the voice of reason to Farlan. That level of maturity wasn’t often found in adolescents… Hange had seen enough of their comrades come and go to know that…

“At least this finally explains why you were rather, uh…” Erwin coughed into his large palm. Miche gave a snort from over by the window. Levi’s glare could rival a sharpened knife.

“Yeah?” His voice was full of daring. “Say it, Erwin.”

“...rather lively as a personality, condensed into such a pocket-sized treat!” Hange finished for him.

Levi swung his foot at them.

“But look at you now! You must’ve shot up another eight inches!” Hange cried, narrowly missing his swipe and rising to their feet. “Forget about Eren being the Hope of Humanity, the titans will be cowering in fear whilst your giant footsteps shake the ground around them!”

Both Erwin and Miche shook with laughter. Even Eren managed a weak smile. Levi removed his arm from the sofa and crossed his arms firmly over his lap.

“Shut it, Four Eyes…” Her turned his head away so that his companions could not see the pale flush which dusted his cheeks.

#this was a pretty weird ask!#but I like it XD #Levi's bbg glow up #levi ackerman #hange zoe #erwin smith #mike zacharias #eren jaeger #aot vets #levihan #levi x hange #attack on titan #snk #my writing

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pareidoliaonthemove · 2 months

Text

Tête-à-Tête

Part Two

Part One is: here

Her uncle was true to his word. Which both did and did not surprise Kayo.

After all, the man had sworn vengeance on Jeff Tracy and International Rescue, and he pursued that vengeance with a single-minded determination. On the other hand, he broke all sorts of promises – both explicit and implied – in the course of that pursuit.

In any case, Kayo was once again bound, gagged, and blindfolded, before being bundled off out of her uncle’s hideout. Unfortunately, the goons were efficient, and Kayo had no inkling of where she had been taken.

After a final parting gift of a dose of a short-term knockout drug, she was deposited – unrestrained – neatly beside Thunderbird Shadow. Once she came around the goons were long gone and the winds had eroded all trace of their passage.

Kayo was shaky on her feet, so she did a quick assessment of her condition, and reluctantly put in a call for help.

It was now a race between the GDF and International Rescue to see who would get to her first.

Twenty minutes later and the GDF had won the race; her brothers being held up by the collapsed skyscraper that had held their attention for the past … it was now sixteen hours.

The GDF medics had cleared her of any permanent damage, only the lingering effects of the drugs her uncle and his minions had pumped into her. Once her body cleared those out, she would be fine.

Colonel Casey was in the process of debriefing her on her details of her ‘encounter’ when the roar of multiple Thunderbirds shook the GDF flyer. Five minutes after that all four earth-bound Tracys had boarded the flyer; and John’s hologram popped up from her wrist comm, even as Scott muscled his way into the room, his brothers following.

Colonel Casey’s decision to debrief Kayo in the on-board conference room of her Command Flyer was typically foresighted of the women.

Once the Tracys had reassured themselves that Kayo was, indeed, as physically okay as the GDF had reported, they retreated to the far side of the conference table – John transferring to Virgil’s wrist comm –, and listened intently as the debrief continued.

Kayo was going over the physical description of the interior of the Hood’s lair for the third time (Virgil had shunted John to Scott, and was using a 3D rendering art programme he could somehow access through his wrist comm to build a model based on her description), when the door opened, and an nondescript-looking NCO marched smartly to Colonel Casey’s side.

The man saluted, and passed over a holodisplay, and Kayo could only just make out the words ‘pathology report’, ‘substance analysis’ and ‘urgent’.

Casey dismissed the man, and speed-read her way through the files.

The storm of emotions on the older woman’s face had Kayo’s hackles rising, and the Tracys edging towards her.

Scott was the first to break, moving to stand and read over the Colonel’s shoulder.

Casey looked back at Kayo, “What did The Hood tell you about the drug he administered?”

Kayo frowned, remembering. “He said it had cost him a lot of time and money to source; that it was new, and guaranteed to work, with no side effects. Oh, and he has already used it! He implied that he had used it on politicians and businessmen to extract personal information he was blackmailing them on.”

Casey paused, considering. “Did he tell you this before or after he administered the drug?”

“After.”

“And what questions did he ask? If you can remember the exact words he used, it could be important.”

Kayo stared at her a moment, perplexed, before Scott nodded to prompt her. She shut her eyes, and replayed events in her mind. It was surprisingly easy to recall details.

She spoke slowly, reluctantly. “He asked, ‘And so, Kayo, my beloved niece, how are you these days?’, then ‘I told you, my dear, I just want to catch up with you. So, how are you?’.” She paused. “Next was ‘The Tracys are keeping you busy? Not too busy, I hope. It wouldn’t do for you to be overworked.’ And then, ‘And how is your dear father? It has been a very long time since I have had news of my beloved half-brother.’”

Kayo paused, considering, but a small voice insisted that the next questions were rhetorical, and therefore not questions. “The last thing he asked was, ‘Do you still love me?’” she concluded, quietly.

Colonel Casey’s face softened. “I’m sorry, Kayo, but I had to ask. Your bloodwork came back, and we identified the ‘truth serum’ he used on you. It is a new formula, and one that is very tightly controlled, as it is extremely effective. But the Hood lied, while there usual side effects of disorientation are not present, it has a very nasty side effect in that it makes the subject … suggestible. Anyone given this drug is very vulnerable to instructions or alternative information provided whilst they are under the influence; and the influence is very difficult to shake, even after the drug has worn off.”

Casey sighed, “It appears that the Hood is making an attempt to recruit you by trying to reinforce his relationship with you.” Her gaze softened, “Please, Kayo, be mindful of this, and be careful whenever you next encounter him.”

Kayo nodded. “I will, Colonel. My father has warned me about my uncle ever since I was a little girl. To side with him would be to betray my father.”

“And I am both glad and sorry to hear that, Kayo.” Casey looked at the holofile in her hand, again. “Was it only ‘family matters’ that you discussed?”

Kayo opened her mouth to speak, hesitated a second as the little voice whispered insistently in her head again.

“Yes, Colonel Casey. That was all we talked about.”

Notes:

This was never originally meant to be a two parter, but the Hood went off on a tangent, and he really isn’t the type of person who would act out of sentimentality. On screen, he always has a plan, though in the beginning IR can outwit him, later on, he becomes sneakier, with back-up plans and redundancies in place.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #fanfiction #my fanfic #kayo #the hood #colonel casey #multichapter #part two #tete-a-tete

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honeydots · 14 days

Note

Because I love you~Xanlow

"Because I love you." xanlow | 1.4k | rated T ask game

Laslow's been left in a heap of mud.

Not long ago, he and a small army of Xander’s personal guard were in the midst of fighting. Only against some bandits and ruffians, but they were facing off in a mucky marsh. That was trouble all by itself, it was hard to move around without worrying you were going to lose a shoe.

But Xander's father provided them with a battalion of faceless for protection during their travels. And as creatures that are notoriously hard to control, one of them carelessly thwacked Laslow in the chest as they fought. It knocked the wind out of him, and he actually flew backwards and straight out of the battle.

At that moment, Laslow was profoundly grateful for the squishy mud that broke his fall. It could've been a lot worse, and a lot more deadly, had he landed on something hard or sharp. The mud acted as a nice and slimy pillow, and he was promptly smothered in it.

Dazed, Laslow couldn't pull himself up right away. Then he started sinking, fantastically, and he had to use every muscle in his body to try and keep himself steady. With a dull ache in his chest, Laslow resigned himself to his fate of needing some help to get up.

Everyone left him behind, though. Smartly, the battle moved out of the swamp and onto the more solid ground of the forest. So now Laslow's stuck, alone, mind jumbled and chest sore, in a smelly bog. Perhaps the mud was more of a curse than he imagined.

Thick drops of rain begin flicking down onto Laslow's face. Ah, not good. He might actually drown if this place begins to fill up. He decides to stop mucking around (ha-ha) and give an honest attempt to get up. It isn’t exactly fun to be lazy in the mud, but he’s tired, and he wanted to wait out as much as he could.

And he tries to escape! He really, really does! He just realizes that he's still sinking more than he's making progress and stops quite quickly afterwards.

So that's horrible. Laslow’s senses don't sharpen exactly, rather he begins to panic. Wait, is he really stuck? He tries to struggle less aggressively, but he can't find any sort of solid ground, and he really regrets letting himself sink down this far. Oh, it feels gross, and the rain is still coming down. He’s going to be devastated if anything gets in his mouth.

Which makes Xander’s sudden voice all the more heaven sent.

“Laslow!”

Laslow tries to lift his head enough to see where Xander is—and he eventually spots him, only his blond hair standing out against the dark. But he’s looking around quite aimlessly, Laslow realizes.

“Milord?” Laslow calls, and Xander snaps to attention, eyes finally on Laslow in his personal mud bath. He comes running over, and Laslow kind of awkwardly plops his head back down. “I’ll have you know I was just thinking about getting up, but somehow my limbs aren’t entirely cooperating—”

“Are you hurt?” Xander asks, kneeling next to Laslow while safely out of any gooey spots. He’s looking him over, and also absolutely staring at the mess of muck Laslow’s gotten himself into.

“Oh—I think so. But I’m not bleeding.” At least he’s pretty sure he isn’t. He feels oddly moist, but he’s certain that’s because of the frequently aforementioned mud. “I think it’s my ribs? I’m achy.”

Xander frowns down at Laslow. Then, in what seems to be a quick decision, Xander grabs the top of Laslow’s vest in a hard grip, and begins to lift him out of his muddy heap. It’s weird, even more so because it works, and Laslow stumbles onto solid ground on his hands and knees.

An exhaust comes over Laslow in the moment. It was hard work, seriously, to keep himself from sinking, lazy as he looked. He slips a bit, rolls over to sit down, and looks over at Xander quite pathetically.

It should be noted that pathetic looks work enormously rarely on Xander. So when he sighs and begins to turn, at first Laslow thinks he’s actually leaving him to his own grubby devices.

But, a cautious “Climb on my back,” from Xander speaks a different truth which Laslow readily accepts.

“Ah, my savior,” Laslow says as Xander stands, holding Laslow’s weight very well. But he always does, despite the many burdens Laslow brings along with him. “I was worried I’d drown for a moment there. Someone once said to me that it’s not a bad way to go, but how could they possibly know that? I’m not convinced, I'm really not.”

“You’re awfully talkative.”

Laslow sighs. “I’m very lightheaded.”

“We’ll find a proper place for you to rest soon.” Xander continues walking, carefully avoiding the deepest mud pits in the bog. “You were quite a ways, you know.”

“Because you all ran off and left! Abandoning me in a literal pile of goop.” Laslow flings a slop of mud off of his hand for good measure, and Xander shakes his head with a scoff. It gets a laugh out of Laslow, which makes also his chest hurt. So he just rests his chin on Xander’s shoulder. All cold and metal, of course.

“…You came back and found me, though,” Laslow says. He’s teasing a bit, too.

“I did.”

“What made you?”

Xander scowls, eyes still ahead and looking at the thicket of trees they’re slowly approaching. “What made me? You disappeared.”

“I suppose so.” Laslow tilts his head back and forth, chin still planted on Xander’s armor. “Any better reasons?”

Very often, Laslow fails to amuse Xander. Unfortunately, there isn’t a happy ending to this. “I will grant you the mercy of not assuming that you were hoping to be praised for having been trapped in mire.”

“Well thank you, because I wasn’t. I’ll admit, however, that I’m always open to my ego being stroked.” Laslow tilts his head a little far, and manages to bonk the side of Xander’s head lightly. Xander doesn’t shake him off—he doesn’t really do that anymore. Laslow has been gracefully granted the right of toleration. “My heart needs an extra beat or two, or I’ll die right here.”

“Quite the exaggeration,” Xander says plainly. Laslow scrunches his nose.

“Won’t you indulge me? Savior?” He earns a huff from Xander for that.

“Was there something noxious in that mud?”

“You wound me!” Laslow kicks his feet about, until Xander readjusts and makes Laslow nervous to fall. “I’ll be quiet if you tell me something good.”

Xander seems annoyed, but not nearly enough so that Laslow will stop being playful. There’s always some room for this, he thinks. Unless Xander gets actually mad. But lately, many things have changed, and… He doesn’t, as much.

“Why did I rescue you,” Xander repeats, not quite muttering. “Am I correct that you wouldn’t be satisfied with my saying that you’re my valuable retainer?”

Laslow grins, feeling a small warmth radiate in his chest. It’s just beneath the pain, settling in soundly. “It would’ve been enough, though you’re welcome to go on.”

Because Xander is fundamentally a kind man, he doesn’t just drop Laslow for the comment. But there’s long enough of a pause before Xander speaks that Laslow’s sure he considers it. “What would you like me to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Laslow presses his lips together. “Because I’m invaluable and not an idiot for getting knocked into a pit of mud and almost dying very stupidly?”

…Laslow is kind of embarrassed, actually.

“Hm.” Laslow waits, but that’s all Xander provides.

“Hm?”

Xander looks around. Though the army isn’t in sight even still. The two of them are very much in their lonesome, unless this muck and gunk all over Laslow is sentient.

“May I say because I love you?” Xander asks.

Laslow feels himself blush. He grunts a little, and he stuffs his head into Xander’s cloth collar, digging his nose into his neck. For a moment, he rests there.

“That works, I think,” Laslow says, still nestled in. He pauses. “…May I say I love you back?”

Xander slows his pace a bit, and he rests his head against Laslow’s. “Will you always be so needy with me?’

“Only a little.” Despite how he can’t find any exposed skin, Laslow still kisses Xander’s neck. “Thank you for saving me.”

Xander exhales. And he keeps walking through the forest while Laslow pecks his neck and bumps his jaw.

“It was only some mud.”

#thanks for the request~~~!!!!#i will be like oh maybe this time i wont do established relationship--#(in walks established relationship with a steel chair)#I JUST LOVE THEIR BANTER. OKAY. THEY ARE IN LOOOOOOVE #i dont know why i keep writing fics where laslow gets thrown into [substance] and xander has to rescue him but here we are.#its good and fun SUE me (dont)#dots answers asks #anonymous #dots writing games #<- it took me forever to find this tag LOL i forgot what it was #im also gonna use #dots writes #might go around reorganizing tags soon bc im such a mess w these #anyway thank you again~~!!! ah its always so fun to write these two than k youu

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