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saetoru · 10 months

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses.

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy.

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly.

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials.

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has.

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed.

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer.

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal.

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party?

i can be ur escort ;)

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you.

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before.

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes.

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself?

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy.

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly.

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway.

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy.

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are.

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood.

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can.

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams.

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird.

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room.

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact.

but not so bad.

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.”

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

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eideticallys · 1 year

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The Dangers of Tennis Skirts

request: based on this.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “you know, reid,” you said, “guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

genre: fluff

word count: 817

author's notes: this is my first ever blurb! i wrote this to practice writing blurbs & writing this was so fun. also, i hope anon doesn’t mind that i wrote this with a fem!reader in mind & reader noticing spencer getting flustered. i just think it would be a lot funnier that way. thank you for this cute request, anon! i got to practice writing blurbs and it's about shy!spencer? a win for me! i hope you'll love this ♡ also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

“REID, YOU OKAY?” Morgan asked the younger male.

Despite his blatant intelligence and many talents, Spencer Reid is just a man. And just like any hot-blooded guy out there who is interested in exploring the curves and dips of a woman’s body, Spencer can’t help but have his IQ slashed down to sixty, or whatever it was Emily said before. And unfortunately for him, hiding the effect of seeing you in a short, white tennis skirt for the first time is not one of Spencer’s talents.

“Yep,” Spencer said, popping the p as he tried to stop his ogling—cue the word, stop—but failed magnanimously, eyes wide, pulse racing, and mouth gaping.

Morgan frowned at the doctor's weird behavior. Usually, when asked how he is, Spencer would go on tangents that would be relevant to the conversation at hand. A single Yep! would not suffice for the boy genius.

Something is going on with him, Morgan thought.

Worried but still weirded out by Spencer, Morgan followed his line of sight and guffawed at what he found. You just entered the bullpen in a fluffy beige sweater, a white tennis skirt, and with your hair tied with a white ribbon.

"Oh, pretty boy," Morgan exclaimed between chuckles. "You are hopeless!"

"Who's hopeless?" Garcia, who just sat on one of the chairs available, interjected.

Morgan continued chuckling and motioned to Spencer, whose eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, and then pointed at you just entering the area. Garcia gasped in happiness. She always thought you and boy genius would make the perfect couple.

And like Spencer, Garcia has many talents. One of which is playing Cupid.

Making the most out of Spencer’s inattentiveness—busy staring at you—Garcia made quick work of calling you over to talk about your cute outfit.

“Hey, Y/N!” Garcia blurted out. “I love LOVE your outfit. We all do.”

She made sure to gesture at Morgan and definitely at Spencer. “Right, boy genius?”

This interrupted Spencer in reverie and unfortunately for him, he’s not the most subtle when he’s back from being lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Reid?” You asked, none the wiser at the obvious display of Spencer getting distracted by your outfit, specifically, your skirt.

Spencer’s eyes widened at your concern. Frightened you’d find out the reason he was dazed was because of you, he instantly stood up from his seat, failing to notice that an electric cord was stuck beneath the chair. And with his quick scrambling, coupled with the fact that his reflexes are akin to that of a toddler just learning to walk, Spencer ended up falling face-first into the floor.

At his clumsiness, Morgan snickered loudly, earning him a slap from Garcia with a matching, “You are not helping at all!” And a glare from you to which he raised his arms in defeat. You held your palm out for Spencer to reach, who was busy trying to dust off his pants, not noticing it was you helping him up until he looked up.

Aside from talents, Spencer was blessed with the gift of hard luck. And unfortunately for him, it seemed his hard luck always tripled in front of a pretty girl—you. Because instead of looking into your eyes when he looked up, his eyes landed on the plush softness of your thighs, which you haven’t failed to notice.

Spencer never wanted to dig a hole and jump in it so badly before today.

You were already giggling, cheeks reddening at the thought of your effect on the genius. Imagine reducing a cute guy with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to a clumsy mess on the floor. Quite flattering, especially if he happened to be the guy you have been crushing on for quite some time now. Not that he knew that, of course. But a girl has gotta take her chances, right? And what better way to tease the hell out of your crush than when he was face-first into your thighs?

“You know, Reid,” You said coolly, “Guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

Spencer’s eyes bulged out even more while Morgan was belly laughing at this point, Garcia right behind him, giggling in delight.

“I-I uh,” Spencer began to ramble, trying to come up with a tangent that could get him out of this mess, failing to remember that just like him, you were gifted with many talents as well. And that is making the most out of an unfortunate—not unfortunate, your crush is face first on your thighs!—situation.

“Sorry, Spence,” You chortled, ruffling his hair. “You’re not getting out of this one. We are going out after this case.”

This got Morgan falling out of his chair in laughter, Garcia giggling along, and Spencer’s pinkened cheeks resembling an actual tomato with their redness.

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vivwritesfics · 2 years

Text

"I Know"

Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever

1.1K

Peter Parker x Reader

I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone

"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.

This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.

"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."

It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."

After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."

“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.

It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”

***

Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.

But not tonight.

“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.

Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.

Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”

They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.

Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.

“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.

“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”

Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).

“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”

Yes. That was very believable.

But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.

Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”

“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”

“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.

Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”

“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”

Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #spider-man #the amazing spider man

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fleshbride · 7 months

Text

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

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antxlss · 1 year

Text

north face jacket

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: while at a party at the boneyard, rafe gives you his jacket. you took it even though you aren’t very fond of him. this led to things you would’ve never imagined.

warnings: suggestive comments

words: 1.2k

a/n: i’ve been inspired by this jacket because rafe looks so hot in it. as always, thank you for reading! if you have any requests, please do not hesitate to reach out! i love you, enjoy!

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

my friend sarah begged me all week long to come to this kegger with her today. so i finally caved and decided to go. i’m not much of a party person, but what harm would one kegger do?

i was currently waiting on my porch. sarah, topper (her boyfriend), and rafe (her brother) were coming by to pick me up.

i grew up with sarah so i know rafe. it’s safe to say he’s not my favorite person in the world. he always picked on sarah and i when i would come over. normal asshole older brother things. ever since i’ve gotten older he’s taken a liking in me. flirting with me every chance he gets. i turn him down, obviously. he’s my best friends brother. i couldn’t do that to her. but god is he hot. but i know that’s just something i can’t do, so i ignore his advances.

after about 5 minutes of waiting on the porch topper’s truck pulls up. i step back and crack my front door open and let my parents know i’m leaving.

i walked up to the truck and saw through the windows that topper was driving, obviously. so naturally sarah was in the passenger seat, topper’s hand resting comfortably on her thigh. i opened the back door and there in all his glory sat rafe. i sat down and buckled in. we were off to the boneyard for a fun night.

the ride there wasn’t out of the ordinary, mostly just me and sarah talking out of our asses about whatever we thought of. the boys had their own conversation about how many birdies they’d had at their last golf match.

we finally arrived and the party was already in full swing. pogues, kooks, and tourons alike were all drinking out of red solo cups and dancing to music being blasted out of a single bluetooth speaker. we hopped out of the truck. all four of us standing at the edge of the fun.

“uh, so, what first?” topper asked.

“drinks, duh?” i said in an obvious tone. i made my way to the keg, topper, sarah, and rafe following behind me.

i reached the keg and generously filled my cup with the cheap beer. i downed half my cup before filling it back up. i made my way over to a clear spot where i unrolled a blanket i had packed. i sat down taking off my shoes and digging my feet in the soft sand. sarah, topper, and rafe came and sat down on the blanket as well.

“guys, let’s go dance.” sarah suggested, scrambling to her feet, her cup of beer still in hand.

i jumped to my feet “i’m in.”

sarah looked to topper and held her hand out. he gave her a look. “do i have to?”

she gave him her signature puppy dog eyes and within a second he was on his feet.

we all started heading closer to the group of dancing people when topper suddenly turned around.

“rafe, you coming bro?” he asked.

rafe waved his hand dismissively. “i’m going to get more beer man.”

with that we all continued to the “dance floor.” as soon as i got in the group, i felt all of their energy. i started dancing, downing my beer. grinding on guys i’d never talked to and probably never will. it was so electrifying.

after a few songs, i stepped out of the group to refill my cup when i saw someone staring at me.

rafe.

his eyes were following me as i went to the keg, as i refilled my drink, as i continued dancing. it’s like i could feel his eyes tracing down every curve of my body. he studied the way i moved it to the beat of the music. he watched every hand that accidently grazed me. his eyes bore into any and every guy that grabbed my waist and danced on me.

i watched as he walked back over to the blanket i had laid down earlier. i decided i was gonna say something to him.

i walked up to him, towering over him as he sat on the blanket. “are you done eye-fucking me yet?” i snapped.

“well, not really, i was kinda enjoying myself.” he replied with a smirk.

i plopped down beside him, the alcohol i had consumed catching up to me. “you’re disgusting.”

“i know you like when i say things like that to you.” he remarked.

i rolled my eyes and shivered as a gust of chilly wind blew by. my crop top and shorts weren’t doing me much good.

“are you shivering because you’re nervous from being around me, or are you cold?” rafe asked.

“i’m cold you dipshit.” i sneered.

i felt warm, fuzzy fabric drape over my shoulders. i glared over my shoulder to see rafe holding his north face jacket onto my body.

“what’s with the face, i’m just trying to keep you warm.” he argued.

“stop hitting on me.” i snapped.

“why?” he questioned.

“you know why. i’m your sisters best friend. i’m off limits. plus i don’t like you anyways.”

“whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you get a cold or some shit.” he ordered.

i slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne, savoring the warmth “thanks.” i mumbled.

“you look hot in my clothes.” he smirked.

i reached over and smacked him on the arm. “i hate you.”

i know he’s off limits. i know i’m supposed to hate him. but no matter how hard i try, i just can’t. it was probably the alcohol, but before i even know what i’m doing i reach out and i grab his face. i crash his lips on to my own.

the kiss is sweet and passionate. like we’ve both been waiting for this for a long time. i feel his hands drop to my waist. i move mine to wrap behind his neck. i swing my leg over, straddling his legs, sitting in his lap. he finally breaks the kiss for air.

he presses our forheads together. both of us out of breath.

“i knew you liked me.” he teased.

i giggled letting my head drop to his shoulder.

“sarah, come on!” i heard topper yell.

“shit.” i quickly jumped off of rafe and casually sat off to the side of him. sarah and topper were walking up to us.

“guys, we are ready to go.” sarah groaned.

“yeah, okay.” i stumbled over my words, still shaken up about earlier.

rafe and i both got up and i shook out my blanket and folded it up. we all made our way back to topper’s truck. i grabbed rafe’s arm letting sarah and topper get ahead of us. i start taking off his jacket when he stopped me.

“keep it. it looks better on you.” he whispered.

i smiled. “you’re such a dork.”

“meet me in my room tonight” rafe knew i was staying the night with sarah, and i had some ideas of why he wanted me in his room.

“okay.” i replied. i pecked his lips and ran forward to catch up with topper and sarah.

what am i getting myself into?

4K notes · View notes

taexual · 9 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 7.5k

chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name

There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.

This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.

Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.

This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.

As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.

“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.

“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.

“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.

“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.

“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.

Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.

If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.

They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.

And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.

Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.

He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.

Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.

“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.

Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.

Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.

“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”

“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”

“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”

Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”

“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”

“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”

“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”

“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”

“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”

You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.

Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.

“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”

“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”

“Fine, I—”

“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.

“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.

In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.

There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”

You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.

“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”

Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”

“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.

“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”

“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.

Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.

It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”

It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.

You and Jungkook had been broken up for almost two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was over two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.

You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.

And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).

You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.

“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”

Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.

You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.

“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.

Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”

“Okay. Who else?”

“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”

The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.

“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”

“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice—both Sid and Jude worked for their families, which really meant that they got paid to occasionally show up at the shareholders’ meetings on behalf of their parents. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”

“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”

He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”

“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”

“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”

“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And some nights in London, depending on our flight time,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”

None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.

Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.

You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).

Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.

“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”

“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”

You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.

“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”

Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.

You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.

Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.

When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.

He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.

The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.

He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.

“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”

Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.

The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.

It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.

Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”

He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.

He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.

Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.

Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.

“Look who—”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”

“I don’t hear running water.”

He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I can drive myself—”

“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”

He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”

“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”

“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”

“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”

“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”

“Hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.

Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.

His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.

He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.

“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”

Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.

As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.

He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.

He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.

“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”

“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”

“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.

“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”

Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.

By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.

And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.

Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.

Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.

Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.

However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.

And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.

You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.

Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.

“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.

“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.

“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”

You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.

“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.

His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.

“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”

His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”

“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”

He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”

You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”

“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”

“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”

You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.

Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.

“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”

He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”

“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.

“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”

He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.

You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.

Maybe he really would be fine tonight.

And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.

“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.

“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”

“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”

Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.

And there was nothing he’d tell them now.

It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.

“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”

Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.

“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”

Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.

“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.

“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”

Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.

Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”

“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”

Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.

“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”

“I don’t have a crush—”

Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”

Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation. “Why—why would I even—why—”

“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”

“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”

“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.

“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.

“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.

“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”

“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”

“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”

“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”

“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”

Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.

“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”

“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.

Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.

He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.

“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”

That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.

“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”

“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”

There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.

This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”

Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”

He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.

“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.

“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.

“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”

Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.

“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”

“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”

In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.

“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”

Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.

Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.

“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”

chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”

special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts rockstar au #bts scenarios #jungkook rockstar au #jungkook reaction #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic

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solar-wing · 2 months

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⚣ It's Not A Competition 🥇

⚣👊🏻 A/N → SURPRISE! double post today! I've been wanting to do a Clark Kent post forever but never had any good ideas. Then, this popped into my mind. Also, I'm really trying to clear out my drafts and any old requests. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Jealousy | Established Relationship

⚣👊🏻 Summary → Dark Knight this and Dark Knight that. What about Superman?! He's also a great hero! Better than Batman, at least. The guy doesn't even have powers. But that's what makes him more interesting and cool, according to Y/N. And frankly, Clark has had quite enough and intends to show him why Superman is way better than Batman.

⚣👊🏻 Words → 4.7K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👊🏻

Clark just didn’t get it.

Why was it that Y/N was so obsessed with Batman and not Superman? All the young reporter ever talked about was the Dark Knight and how he was so cool and mysterious. Going on and on about his awesome gadgets and the fact that he had no powers, which made him so interesting.

Clark very much would beg to differ.

“You know, Superman can shoot lasers out of his eyes, and I heard he can move faster than the speed of sound,” Clark pointed out while walking with Y/N down the sidewalk. They decided to go out for lunch and since the Daily Planet was so close to one of Y/N's favorite restaurants downtown, he figured, why not just walk together?

“Clark, not this again,” Y/N chuckled while sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry, you just always talk about how great Batman is, and I’m not saying he’s bad, but I don’t get how he’s better than Superman?”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Lois with all your Superman praise and comparison.”

“Well, she’s not wrong. I mean, come on. What can Batman do that Superman can’t?” Clark asked, looking down at his boyfriend while waiting for an answer.

“Batman’s quicker on his feet. He thinks of solutions faster and more creatively than what I’ve seen from Superman. Plus, he’s resourceful. The guy’s got a freaking jet. The only people I could think of that own jets and planes and all the crazy gadgets he has would probably be Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne.”

Clark tried not to react to the irony of that statement, rather focusing on how he could combat that logic even though it was true. He had to admit that his comrade, whether in the field or in practice, was very good at analyzing a situation and using whatever he had around him to his advantage.

Still, it didn’t mean he was better than him.

“Well, Superman can also fly, and as many have witnessed, is crazy strong.”

“Yes, he is. But if Batman can afford a jet, I’m pretty sure he can afford a jetpack, too. Plus, we all know how strong Superman is, some more than others. Their insurance claims can definitely speak to how strong he is.”

That last line Y/N said was more so to himself than as a statement to Clark. However, it didn’t take away the slight sting from his words, considering how true they were.

“So you’re saying Superman is reckless and bad at his job or something?” Clark accused.

“What? No, I’m not saying that at all. Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’re acting as if you know the guy. Wait, do you know him?” Y/N asked, now looking up at his giant of a boyfriend.

Sometimes, he wondered what kind of genes ran in Clark’s family. It was a bit of a puzzle to Y/N why the six-foot-something man was in journalism rather than something that seemed more his speed, like fitness or athletics.

“No, of course not. I just don’t think it’s fair or even logical to compare Superman to someone like Batman, considering what each of them has respectfully achieved, not to mention the state of their cities and everything. I mean, have you ever been to Gotham before?” Clark asked, doing his best to not draw any more curiosity or suspicion out of the younger male.

Not that he was doing a good job of that in the first place.

Clark just wished he could’ve shown Y/N why Superman was better than Batman. They’d only been dating for a few months so it wasn’t reasonable or even smart for the Kryptonian to consider revealing his identity to him, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Clark, it’s not a competition. You know that, right?” Y/N said, placing his hand on Clark’s arm.

They paused in their steps, Clark looking down at the gentle hand lying across his forearm before looking up into the eyes that always put him under a spell. He smiled to himself, thinking of the fact that even if Y/N favored Batman over Superman, Clark was still the real winner, because he had him.

He took his hand in his own, doing his best to contain his excitement pulse at the feeling of his larger hand surrounding the smaller one in his grip. Y/N was still a male, so his hand wasn’t dainty or small by any means, but compared to Clark’s, it might as well have been.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I got a little bit crazy.” Clark apologized with a small kiss on the shorter man’s hand causing a slight blush to appear on the smaller male’s cheeks.

“It’s ok. Besides, I like a little bit of crazy. Keeps things interesting.” Y/N said before continuing their walk towards Clark’s place of work.

‘You have no idea,’ Clark thought to himself as he followed behind, letting himself be tugged along.

They returned to the Daily Planet to find everywhere in a buzz, chattering excitedly with each other as various individuals were either running to the bathroom with pouches of makeup and skincare and others at their desks touching up their hair and clothes.

“What’s going on?” Clark asked aloud as he strode into the office while still holding Y/N’s hand.

“Was it like this when we left?” His boyfriend asked, chuckling at the comical movements and gestures of the rushing to get re-ready for whatever was happening.

“No, it was actually the opposite,” The reporter stated before eventually spotting Lois at her desk, who was also touching up her makeup and hair. He made his way over to the desk area, narrowly avoiding multiple people rushing while pulling Y/N closer to him to keep him from getting bumped into.

“Lois, what’s going on?”

“Oh, hey, Smallville. Hello, Y/N. Didn’t you both get the emergency email Perry sent to everyone earlier?” She said in her usual fast-paced, business tone while curling her eyelashes.

“No, We were at lunch. What was the email about?”

“Oh, Clark. Must I always have to save your butt?” Lois said before handing her phone over to the man, Y/N chuckling behind him at the comment.

Clark threw him a look while Y/N did his best to keep a neutral face before reading over the email.

“Bruce Wayne is coming to the Daily Planet?”

Y/N's eyes went comically large at the mention, immediately jumping to read the email for himself, “No way!”

Lois smirked to herself before grabbing her phone back from the man, while Clark just stared at his boyfriend in jealous shock from his excited outburst. “Yep. Wayne Enterprises has announced its support of various major liberal movements and is donating large proceeds to different organizations calling for massive change in the nation. And with this being an election year, many political figures and business entities are feeling a little uneasy at this sudden new support from the tech giant. And yours truly, landed the exclusive interview with him to get all the nitty and gritty details .”

Y/N’s eyes were almost bugging out of his head, before he ran to the bathroom himself, snatching his hand from Clark’s who looked desperately after him.

“Dammit, Bruce.” The reporter growled under his breath.

“You say something?” Lois asked while powdering her nose.

“No,” Clark responded gruffly, an irritated glint in his eye before walking to his own desk.

After everyone has ridiculously made themselves extra presentable, including Y/N much to Clark’s annoyance, the pair stand outside the room with a few others, watching through the glass pane walls as the interview is broadcast live to the entire nation. Lois asked Mr. Wayne various questions, ranging from his real intentions behind his charitable donations to whether he was looking to begin any political endeavors and win the favor of the public.

Bruce answers every question with confidence and suaveness, leaving no room for questions about his actions, and denies any political motivations. Y/N watched impressed from the other end while Clark just looked around with a grim and irritated look, his arms crossed as he listened to the interview and watched his boyfriend fanboy over his secret comrade.

“Well, you certainly seem like the charming and noble benefactor, Mr. Wayne. I can see why you're known as ‘Gotham’s Favorite Son.’ I have to ask though, even if you truly have no political ambitions, aren’t you worried that these donations and announcements along with the unwavering stance you’ve taken on these political topics will inevitably place a target on you?” Lois asked, notepad and pen sitting with poise and precision, ready to take down every little thing the billionaire said.

“Wow, I can see why she’s so respected. She’s nailing this interview.” Y/N commented.

Clark nodded to that. Even if he wasn’t feeling the most agreeable at the moment, he’d always give hats off to Lois’ skills. The woman was a powerhouse when it came to this stuff.

“Well, first off, thank you for your earlier comment. I don’t think of myself as anyone’s favorite, but even I can’t control what the public says or does,” Bruce responded with his ever-so-billion-dollar smile, earning a laugh from Lois and probably every other American tuning into this broadcast, including Y/N.

Clark, however, wasn’t impressed. He’d heard funnier.

“But, to answer your question,” Bruce continued, “...any move in the business or even the political world I imagine can be considered a risky one. I’m not going to pretend that my decisions have made some very happy, and others very unhappy. That’s life. You can’t please everyone. But, to sit and accept things as the way they are for fear of retaliation or backlash is misery in itself. I believe anyone who doesn’t speak up for what they truly believe or want for fear of ‘rocking the boat’ is just content with living in their own misery. And, let me be clear before I’m canceled—I know the meaning behind that now thanks to my kids, particularly my two youngest sons—I’m not saying someone who’s genuinely content and happy with where they are is included in this. I’m specifically talking to those who want change, and want to create a better world, but are waiting for others to do it for them.”

Despite its clichéness, many in the hall gave a small clap to the CEO’s words, Y/N looking thoroughly impressed himself.

“Wow, he really is an inspiring man,” Y/N commented.

“He’s alright,” Clark said in response.

Y/N gave the taller man a suspicious side look, “Alright, what’s going on with you? You’ve been standing there pouting

since this interview started. What, do you not like Bruce Wayne or something?"

Clark sighed before looking down at his boyfriend. It was true, he wasn't really liking the guy at the moment. But, it was just because he was so jealous. He didn’t like how Y/N was looking at him, or how he was talking about him.

It wasn't fair.

The reporter wanted Y/N to be looking at him and only him like that, and he wanted his attention and affection, and he wanted him to only talk about him like that. It was petty, and it was selfish, but Clark didn’t care.

He just wanted Y/N to only admire Clark Kent. not Bruce Wayne.

Only Superman, not Batman.

Despite Y/N's earlier words about it not being a competition, Clark knew the truth. It was a competition, one he was not planning on losing.

"No, I don't not like him. I'm just not that impressed, is all. He's not a superhero." Clark said.

"Neither is Lex Luthor. But, that doesn't stop the public from making him the villain in his story. I'm sure there's a lot more to Bruce Wayne than the media is letting on."

"Oh, trust me. There's more to him than what meets the eye," Clark mumbled to himself as the interview was getting ready to wrap up.

"Well, on behalf of the Daily Planet, I'd like to thank you for joining us today. Your words are certainly ones that will not go unheard by many. I look forward to—"

Before Lois could finish speaking, the lights in the building suddenly went out, leaving the office pitch black. A few people in the hall gasp, Y/N instinctively grabbing Clark's arm, who in turn places his hand over the smaller man's own.

"What's going on?" Someone asks.

"I don't know. It's almost like a blackout, but it can't be because we have backup generators. They should've turned it on by now." Another responded.

"Clark, what's going on?" Y/N asked toward his boyfriend, who was holding the smaller male closer to him out of instinct.

"I'm not exactly sure..."

Just as he said that, the lights came back on, and everyone was looking around confused as to what the source of the blackout was.

"Oh my god!" One of the people in the hall screamed suddenly as everyone turned back towards the interview room. Inside the room, some members of the crew suddenly had masks with insignias covering their faces on them. One of them was behind Lois holding a dagger to her neck while another stood to the side, pointing a gun directly at Bruce's head.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Ms. Lane," The individual in the middle of the room said, "But, this interview isn't over just yet."

"Who the hell are you people?!" Lois asked, fear and anger in her eyes as the blade was held to her neck.

"Wouldn't you like to know? As for Mr. Wayne, we're going to have a little chat. I suggest you and your friends don't follow or intervene. Otherwise, this broadcast won't be the only thing getting cut" The masked individual threatened, nodding to Lois.

"Don't you dare touch her," Bruce warned, his expression serious, as he got ready to stand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Wayne. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen, now would we? Especially with all of America watching right now."

Bruce sat back down, knowing that his opponent was right. He couldn't let them hurt Lois, and he certainly couldn't risk any lives in this room.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. We'll make this quick," The leader said as one of the other masked goons went to lock the door that led inside the interview room.

"Clark, we have to do something," Y/N said, his heart racing a mile a minute.

"I know. Stay here. I'll be back." Clark said before running off, leaving the smaller male alone.

"What? Clark, wait! Where are you going?" Y/N called after him, but the taller man didn't hear him, already too far away.

'What the hell is he doing?' Y/N thought to himself before turning his attention back towards the situation in front of him.

As Clark rounded the corner and made his way down the hallway, he made sure no one was watching him before he ran as fast as he could into the supply closet. Once inside, he quickly changed into his suit before taking off through the backdoor.

"So, how does it feel knowing that you're on the side of the wrong? How does it feel knowing that no matter what you do, you'll never be able to fix the mess you made? All the lives lost because of you," The masked man asked Bruce, who was sitting calmly in his chair, his eyes not showing an ounce of fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. None of you wealthy elites do. You don't know the pain and suffering your companies and your products cause to others. You don't know the misery you cause. Well, allow us to show you." The man said before signaling his partners.

One of them immediately moved and grabbed a hold of the camera, pointing it directly at the masked man in the center.

"Hello, Metropolis. And hello, America. If you're watching this, that means you're just as much a part of this as we are. if you've been sitting here listening to the lies and promises of a better world by this man and his kind, you are as much a part of his schemes as he is. It is because of people like him that we have the world we live in. It's because of people like him that so many of us suffer. It's because of people like him that the world will only continue to rot and decay until there is nothing left but a pile of ashes. But, we will not be the ones who burn. We will not be the ones who lose. We will not be the ones who suffer, not anymore. Today, we fight back. Today, we will show the world that we will not be silenced, we will not be oppressed. We will not allow the likes of him and his kind to continue to control us anymore with false promises of a better tomorrow while lining their own pockets. Today, we say enough is enough. Today, we rise. Today, we will take back what is rightfully ours. Today, we take back our freedom and our lives from the rich and corrupt." The man spoke, his words filled with conviction and determination, but also hatred and poison as he stared deep into the camera.

"And if any of you try to stop us, then you will be considered just as guilty as the rest of them. We will not be silenced. We will not be ignored. And if you think that the likes of Batman and Superman will save you, I wouldn't be too sure of that..."

As soon as the leader was done with his speech, the sound of the glass shattering was heard as Superman broke through the windows, flying into the room before stopping directly in front of the man holding the camera.

"But, I am..." The Man of Steel said, shooting a laser beam at the dagger being held by the goon threatening Lois. He immediately dropped the blade as it became too hot, giving the Daily Planet reporter the opportunity she needed to escape his hold.

"Bastards," She cursed, turning around and delivering a kick to the masked man's groin.

He groaned out in pain, falling to the floor before Lois punched him in the face, knocking him out.

Superman turned his attention back toward the masked man standing in the center, "I believe it's time for you to take a hike."

"Not yet. We still have unfinished business," The man said before signaling his other henchman. The man immediately aimed his gun at the Kryptonian, firing shot after shot into him.

Superman stood his ground as the bullets hit him, before eventually, the gun ran out.

"You're right. This is definitely the end," Superman said as he flew toward the man, knocking him out before he could reload his gun.

As Superman finished off the last of the henchmen, the leader turned back towards the camera, "Sorry, Superman. But, the damage has already been done. I hope you enjoyed this little taste of what's to come."

Before the Kryptonian could stop him, the man took out a smoke bomb, throwing it onto the ground and covering the room in a cloud of smoke.

"Crap," Superman cursed, unable to see as the man escaped.

As the smoke began to clear, Bruce took out his phone, "Alfred, I need you to track this signal."

"Understood, sir. I've also informed the police and they're on their way," Alfred responded.

"Good," Bruce said before turning back towards the room.

The actual camera crew was not out in the hall, hugging their co-workers who were all relieved at their safety. The broadcast was cut from the air, but there was no doubt every TV station from here to San Francisco was talking about it. Y/N was standing nearby, his eyes filled with awe and admiration as he stared up at Superman.

There was something oddly familiar about him.

...

Nah.

"That was incredible, Mr. Wayne," Lois said.

"I could say the same thing about you. I'm glad you're ok."

Lois smiled at him, "You were worried about me?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Bruce asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

Lois blushed slightly before turning back to look at Superman, who was now standing right in front of the two.

"Thank you for the save, Superman," Lois said, extending her hand out to the Kryptonian.

"My pleasure," Superman said, shaking the woman's hand before his attention was drawn toward Bruce who just gave him an appreciative nod. Though the look in his eyes signaled they would definitely be communicating about things later.

As Bruce and Lois moved towards the hallway, Lois spotted Y/N who was standing close to the door peeking inside.

"Oh Y/N, there you are! Thank goodness, you're alright." Lois said, walking over to him and hugging him.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Are you?" He asked, looking up at the woman.

"I'm fine. I'm tougher than I look."

"That's good to hear. And, it's good to see you’re okay as well Mr. Wayne. That was scary." Y/N said, turning his attention to the billionaire.

"Yes, I'm glad I'm alright, too," Bruce said, his attention on Y/N.

"Oh, Bruce Wayne, this is Y/N L/N. He's one of our upcoming new reporters along with Clark Kent, who you've met before." Lois said, introducing the two.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Y/N said, extending his hand out.

Bruce took it, giving the younger man a firm handshake, "The pleasure is all mine."

As the two looked at each other, Clark was standing nearby, his gaze focused on the two, his fists clenched.

'I swear to Rao...' He thought to himself, jealousy coursing through his body as he watched the two interact.

"So, Mr. Wayne, what do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked.

Bruce turned to look at the woman, an amused eyebrow raised, "He must be getting trained by you," He said, sparking a laugh from Lois and another eye roll from the Kryptonian before flying off, "And please, call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne makes me feel old."

"Bruce, then. What do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked again.

"Well, I can't be certain, but based on their words and their actions, I'd say they were a group of anarchists."

"Anarchists?"

"Yes. They're not an uncommon group. Many people are growing tired of the way things are in this country. With the state of the economy and the government, it's only a matter of time before things begin to boil over."

"So, you think this is going to happen more often?"

"I'm not sure. But, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of them."

Y/N nodded his thoughts on the events that had transpired earlier.

"Y/N!" Clark called, interrupting the conversation.

"Clark, there you are! You had me worried sick," The smaller male said while hugging his boyfriend, missing the sharp look the taller man was throwing at the billionaire.

"I just went to alert the building security and the police. Seems everything turned alright though since Superman showed up," Clark said, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist while still giving a side eye to Bruce who was watching with amusement.

"Yes, thank goodness he did. I'm sure we all owe him a huge thanks for his services."

"Yes, indeed we do. But, unfortunately, I must be going now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N." Bruce said, extending his hand once more to the younger man, who took it, shaking it gently.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, too."

Bruce smiled at him before turning back to Lois, "And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Lois."

"Likewise, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce smirked, "I do believe we're a bit past the formalities now, Lois. Please, call me Bruce."

"Of course. Bruce." The woman replied, her tone flirty and her expression coy.

Y/N noticed this and turned to look at Clark, whose expression was blank as he looked on.

"Will do, Lois. I look forward to our next meeting," Bruce said before stopping in front of Clark.

"Good seeing you as well Clark, as short-lived as it was," Bruce said, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Clark reluctantly took it, the handshake lasting longer than was necessary.

"Likewise," Clark replied.

Bruce nodded, his eyes giving the reporter a knowing look before he was escorted out by security.

Once the billionaire was out of sight, Clark and Y/N decided to leave as well, making their way towards the elevator.

"Well, that was a crazy day," Y/N said.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Do you think Bruce Wayne knows Batman?"

Clark stopped mid-step, a shocked expression on his face as he looked down at his boyfriend.

"Are you serious right now? You can't be serious?" The taller man said with an indignant expression.

"What?"

"You're still thinking of Batman after Superman just came and saved everyone?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's a hero too. They both are. Besides, Superman is always getting most of the credit, don't you think? It would make sense if they were working together. You know, the world's greatest detective and the world's greatest hero, solving crime and catching the bad guys. Wouldn't that be so cool?" Y/N asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought.

"No, not really. I don't see why that would be a good idea," Clark said, rolling his eyes.

Y/N sighed, "Clark, remember what we talked about earlier about it not being a competition?"

Clark looked down at the smaller man, his eyes filled with frustration, "Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to obsess over Batman. Superman is just as obsessed-worthy!"

"Clark, seriously, what is up with you? It's not like I want to marry him or something."

"You're acting like you want to," Clark mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, Clark. I'm not going to say I'm not a fan of Batman. I mean, I think he's cool. But, that doesn't mean that I'm not a fan of Superman either. I'm a fan of both of them. I think they're both great heroes, and I think they both do good work."

"But, you don't think that Batman is cooler, or that he's better than Superman?" Clark asked, his expression pleading.

"I mean, I guess. But, why does that matter? Why are you so hung up about this?"

"Because, I—" Clark started before stopping, knowing he was about to give away his identity.

"You what?"

"I just want you to think of me, is all," Clark said, looking down at the ground, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Y/N's heart softened at the confession, the older man looking like a little kid who just got his favorite toy taken away. He stepped forward, cupping the taller man's face in his hands, causing him to look up.

"Clark, I do think about you. I think about you all the time and I love how protective you are of me. Whether I like Batman or Superman more isn't going to change that" Y/N said, trying his best to ease his boyfriend's fears.

"Promise?" Clark asked.

Y/N chuckled, "I promise."

"Good," Clark smiled while leaning down to place a kiss against his boyfriend's lips, "You should still like Superman more."

Y/N rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Clark. I'll work on that."

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Now come on, we now have a celebratory date to go on." Y/N said as he grabbed Clark's hand.

"What are we celebrating?" Clark asked with a laugh as he was pulled towards the elevator.

It was always adorable watching the smaller male pull Clark around like it was nothing.

"Surviving our first criminal encounter together," Y/N said while hitting the first-floor button.

"First?"

"Honey, we live in a city with sky-high insurance because a superhero lives here. You really think this will be the last?"

He definitely doesn't.

☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

413 notes · View notes

lure-of-writing · 1 month

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Little Sister; Just Peachy

Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy

Note: ya'll Im not going to lie the scene with Rhys in the living room got me in my feels 😭. But don't worry your little hearts we will absolutely will be seeing this from Ariel's point of view. As always I cannot wait to hear what you guys think!

(please read all in a days work , knock before you enter, and his little sister first!)

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Mentions of having tiny frames but only in reference to being a child

Ever since your visit from the summer court something with both your brother and Azriel has been off. Rhys for the first time in your life has been avoiding you and suddenly you could never seem to catch Azriel at the right time. It was starting to annoy you to no end. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Cassian looked over to where Nesta was stretching with the rest of the girls as if to ask her about your negative attitude. In return she just shrugged and welcomed you into the circle of stretches with everyone else. Today was all about fighting and since Cassian's counterpart was nowhere to be found it was up to you to help Cassian demonstrate the fighting techniques that had been practiced for a few weeks now. You were known to be a person who refrained from fighting and going into battle but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t capable of doing so. You were only one hundred years younger than your brother, it was safe to say that you had some experience with fighting.

The roof of the house of wind was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind along with Cassian's booming voice explaining how this match would go and the things then needed to pay attention to before each of them went toe to toe with either you or Cass. Finally after he was done giving instructions he turned and faced you. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you right.” scoffing your head tilts to the side “Yeah that's because your mate is over there giving you bedroom eyes and you want to impress her.” Once again his boisterous laugh filled the space of the open room giving it more warmth. Nothing more was said as you both got into fighting stances and prepared to walk away with some bruises.

The fight hadn't been going on for more than five minutes when you swore that you saw Azriel landing on the roof and watched as you and Cassian went back and forth throwing and dodging punches. Now you couldn’t say for sure because as soon as you took your eyes off your opponent to spare a glance where you thought Azriel was standing, Cassian's fist made contact with your cheek and subsequently you were laying on the matt looking into the sky completely dazed.

Cassian never meant to actually punch you. He knew exactly how you fight, he knows your tells and the next move that you would usually make but he didn’t know that you were going to turn your face at just the right moment and his powerful punch would connect with your face. Both you and Cassian knew the strength that he possessed and usually he would never fight you using that unlimited well of strength but the purpose of the match was to demonstrate how to use each part of your body to increase your strength when sparring.

Nesta was sitting on the ground right next to you with your head in her lap holding a cold hand on your sure to swell cheek and busted lip. From your point of view she was upside down. Even like this you thought she looked stunning. Gently she stroked your hair when telling you that you were going to be ok. Deep down you knew that you would in fact be ok but right now your head was ringing and your face hurt and you were pretty sure a tear was running down your face from the pain. Off to the side of you Cassain was shitting his pants. Not only had he hit the person who he views as a little sister, he hit you with his full force. He was grateful he did break any of your bones. But that wasn’t his only problem; he hit Rhysands little sister. Cassian was sure that he just signed his death certificate.

Rhysand was in his office with Azirel getting the report from his latest mission when he heard Cassian in his head. “Rhys?” The tone was a question as well as a grimace “Yes?” Rhys raised a finger to stop Azriel from continuing on. “Can you come up to the house of wind?” Sighing he looked at Azriel before rolling his eyes. “Can it wait? I'm currently in the middle of getting a report from Az.” a beat of silence passed in Rhys mind before the quiet voice of his brother came back in “It’s y/n”

Cassian could hear the beating of two sets of wings before he could see them. It didn't take a genius to know that they were flying at max speed. Cassian took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out between thinly pressed lips. This would probably be the last time that he could breath normally for a while. Just as the two males touched down he glanced over to where his mate was still cradling your head and periodically removing her hand to look at the bruising and your split lip to see how bad it was getting.

Rhysand hadn’t even landed when his eyes locked on your body laying flat on the mat with Nesta holding your head. As soon as his feet touched the hard surface of the roof he was pouncing on Cassian with questions. “What the hell happened to her? Why is she laying on the mat with Nesta holding her face?” Cassian said nothing as he folded his high lord to where his sister lay. He knew as soon as Rhys saw your face he would be done for. Rhysand wouldn’t need any answers to his questions, he would know exactly what happened and who did it. Azriel fell in place with Cassian behind Rhys as they made their way to where you were lying and he glanced at his brother for a second with an eyebrow raised as if to ask what happened. Cassian just grimaced and shook his head. Azriel would also know what happened as soon as Nesta removed her hand from your face.

Cassian stayed back a few steps as Rhys bent down to get a closer look at you. Azriel was on the other side. “Nesta move your hand.” She didn’t do so, “Before I do you need to know that it was an accident and–” The tone of Rhysands words that came next left no room for discussion. “I said remove your hand.” The power in the high lord's voice raged over her like the waves of an ocean before a hurricane. She hated how the power made her bend to his will. Quietly she removed her hand as both males took in your face. The bruising has officially started to begin. All of your right cheek was painted with colors of red, purple and spots of dark red where the blood vessels broke. The bruising also danced along your cheekbone and around your eye, presumably from the impact, and down towards your jaw. Right where the bruising meets your lip is where it was split open and now had dried blood crusting along the open cut and down your chin.

After taking in your appearance Rhysand stood to his full high he turned around to look at the other male. “Cassian” his voice was cool and emotionless, the voice of a high lord. “Did you do this to my sister?” As much as it sounded like a question both males knew it was not. It was more like an interrogation.

As Nesta watched from afar as her mate and her brother-in-law were preparing to have at it she prodded in her sister's mind. “Feyre you need to come to the house of wind.” She paused for a moment as she listened to Cassian try to explain himself and what happened. “Now.” she added. Her attention was pulled from the fight that was sure to happen in a few moments with the jostling of your body beneath her hand. Looking down again she sees Azriel gently pull your body into his being as careful as possible as not to cause you any more pain. Nesta was sure that you were too out of it to feel more pain, as you didn’t even respond when she called out your name and your eyes were too unfocused and dazed to notice anything happening around you, still she thought the gesture was sweet.

“Where are you taking her?” Even though she wanted to go wherever Az was taking you she knew that she needed to be here when Rhys was done with her mate. To nurse him back to health. Or bring him back from the dead, whichever happened first. “She needs to be seen by Madja.” She nods her head in agreement as glances back over to her mate. She was sure the blood bath would start at any second. “I agree.” Finally after getting you into a position in Azirels arms that he deemed safe enough he shot off into the air and towards Madja’s clinic just as her sister flew in. Frantically Feyre looks at where her mate and her brother-in-law stood a few feet away brawling. “What the hell happened?” Nesta glanced down at her younger sister before returning her gaze to the fight. “Cassian accidentally punched y/n in the face and knocked her out.” Feyre felt her jaw drop all while turning to look at her older sister who just shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance.

When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the pounding headache ravaging your mind, the next thing you noticed was the excruciating pain in your face and jaw. Whatever happened to you must have been pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. Especially with fae healing. After cataloging the different types of pain and discomfort you were feeling you took in your surroundings. Plush big bed, the soothing smell of your brother's cologne, and paintings of Nyx, Feyre and your brother decorated the walls. You were in your brother's room. You must have been hurt pretty bad for you to wake up in a room that wasn’t your own. Closing your eyes again in hopes of soothing the pain inside your head you take a few deep breaths while you were at it.

Reluctantly you pushed the warm blankets off your body and made your way into the bathroom. The soft glow of faelights illuminated the bathroom and casted it into warmth. The setting sun on the horizon told you that you apparently had been out for most of the day, if not a day or two. Turning to look in the mirror you gasp at the sight in front of you. “Oh” a beat of silence “I look like shit.” gently you press a finger into the dark purple, blue and black bruise covering most of the right side of your face. You cringe back at the pain your prodding had induced. It took you a few seconds of staring at your own reflection to remember what had caused this but eventually you remembered.

You were sparring with Cassian in hand to hand combat and while the two of you were circling each other you could have swore you saw Azriel in the corner of your eye. Going to confirm it you turned your head to the right as Cassian's arm made a big and powerful swing and made contact with your face. After that you can’t remember anything. Giving it another once over you shrugged “At least he didn’t break my face.” you muttered to yourself before making your way out of the room and down to the kitchen or living room. You knew that you would only make it to one or the other before somebody was destined to stop you.

You got as far as the living room. Rhysand sat in a chair as he watched his wife and son play on the floor. The soft padding of your feet on the marble floors pulled him from his silent brooding. You watched from the entrance of the room and your brother practically shot up from his seat and in three quick strides stood in front of you. “ You're awake!” Even though you knew he meant it as a statement it felt more like a question. “Yeah?” You watched as your brother sighed in relief before gently pulling you into his arms. One arm around your back and the other stroking your hair. He made sure the unbruised part of your face rested on his chest. Returning the hug you arm your arms around the waist of your brother wrapping each hand around your forearms and your rest your complete weight against him. For a few seconds nothing was said as he gently rocked you back in front in the same spot.

Silently he pulls back to examine your face. You watch as his eyes take in the much darker welt on your face and the slowly closing fractured lip. He releases another sigh before once again pulling you back into him. “How are you feeling?” his tone in gentle and soft, knowing just how much your head probably hurts. Rhys had also been on the receiving end of Cassian's powerful strike, more times then he would like to admit. “My head feels like it's been cracked in two and my face feels like it might of been shattered but other than that I feel just peachy.” you felt the rumbling of your brother's chest before you heard the soft laughter. “I’m glad to see Cassian didn’t cause any brain damage.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

A peaceful quiet settled over the two of you and for a second you enjoyed it. Closing your eyes you listened to the steady heartbeat of your brother's heart, and for a second it reminded you of when you were a child. Any time you were scared or just in need of your brother's love you would seek him out and cling to him like your life depended on it. And without questioning he would simply wrap his arms around your tiny frame while you rested your head against his chest listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

Those memories are some of the ones you hold closest to your heart and the current situation reminded you of when you were a child. Gently you knocked on the barely there shield of Rhys mind, he welcomes you in with open arms and there you show him all those precious memories this moment reminded you of. Some things are for certain and one of those things is sometimes you just need the love and comfort of your brother. Gently he squeezes your body closer into his own while still rocking you back and forth before placing part of his cheek and chin on top of your head. “Should we get you something to eat?” he all but whispers into the space above your head. Nodding your face against your chest the two of you pull away from each other after a few seconds. Rhysand keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you into the kitchen. He may not be a great cook and usually avoids the kitchen like it had the plague but for his little sister he would do anything. Even if that meant potentially burning his house down.

It was a few days of living with your brother at his house before he thought you were ok enough to return back to the house of wind. That was only after Madja had even the ok that you would be good enough to survive the flight up there. You rolled your eyes behind his back as he talked with Madja. It was less than a five minute flight from his house to the top of the house of wind. If all else failed and you felt bad during the flight you would squeeze your eyes shut and pray you don’t throw up.

When you finally returned to your house you were surprised to see it empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked as your brother trailed behind you while entering the living room. “Nesta is with Feyre and Nyx shopping and Cass and Az are currently on a mission.” settling into the couch you glance over your shoulder at your very sweet but protective brother “Back to calling him Cass? That must mean you no longer feel like murdering him.” you watch as your brother makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you. “I’m still not happy with him but that doesn’t mean I hate him either.”

The room fills with silence yet again. “Why were you even sparring with him in the first place?” Furrowing your brows you look at him confused. “Uh because Azriel wasn’t there to do it? It was supposed to be the two of them but I guess something came up and no one else there has enough years of experience with the technique the Valkyries were learning so I stepped in to help.” It was now your brother's turn to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn’t give him anything to do so I don’t know why he wasn’t there.” Shrugging you look around before answering. “I mean he is a spymaster. I’m sure he has things that we don't get the privilege to know.”

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

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#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel series #rhysand x sister!reader

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luvyeni · 8 months

Note

hi!!! omg i’ve been a fan of your blog for a while now, and i really love your writings! was wondering if you could possibly do a changbin work? maybe he’s super open and lovey with his members but when it comes to you, who he’s in a new relationship with, he pulls away bc he doesn’t want to overwhelm you and smother you/drive you away but you end up taking it as him not being that into you, and it’s just one big angsty ordeal of miscommunication, and he makes it up by showing her he adores her by giving her many orgasms and just indulging in having her in every way he’s wanted???

❛ADORE YOU❜ ( s. changbin )

p. seo changbin x fem!reader wc. 2.3k+

warnings? angsty, oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk

— 𖦹 ( changbin showing you he really loves you ) !

“you must have to pry changbin off you all the time.” you turned to chan, confused. “what do you mean?” you asked, he shrugged pointing to over to where changbin smothering hyunjin in a hug, the younger boy trying to pull away. “he must be like that all the time when you guys are home.” you nodded, smiling – but the truth was, he’d never done like that.

you and changbin had only been dating for about 4 months, but you were so deeply in love with him already, and you do desperately wanted to show him affection and for him to show you affection.

you noticed quickly after that exchange with chan that changbin was more affectionate with his members than he was with you ever, he held your hand sometimes when he was driving and he kissed and hugged you sometimes, but that pretty much was it – but with his members he was way different, he was more open with them too, han was the one to break this to you, accidentally letting something slip that he’d never even told you, you had to play it off like you knew what he was talking about.

even your sex life – honestly you couldn’t even call it that, you had only had sex once. it was nice, but you just tell he wasn’t really into it, he even lied and said he finished, but when you turned over to ‘sleep’, you could hear him go into the bathroom, his moans indicated your suspicions that he didn’t finish confirmed true.

you weren’t sure why he was acting like this, when he pursued you he seemed so interested into, but now you weren’t so sure, maybe you just were seeing things because you liked him so much, so you deluded yourself into thinking he was just interested in you as you were in him.

“look what yongbok sent me.” he pulled you from your deep thought, showing you a random tiktok that the younger boy had sent him. “that’s funny.” you said, picking his hand up, intertwining it with his – but to your dismay, he just kissed your knuckles, unlacing your hands, going back to what he was doing.

you frowned, he didn’t even notice to busy typing away on his phone, laughing. “what are you doing?” you wrapped your arms around his bicep, cuddling into his side. “texting lix, he was just telling me what he did today.” he never had these conversations with you, he hardly ever texted you first. “uh baby?” you turned to him. “yes?” he smiled, removing his arm from your clutches. “my arm is falling asleep.” he chuckled, but you had enough at this point. “you know what.” you scoffed, standing up. “i’m done.”

changbin looked up from his phone confused. “what’s wrong?” he was so clueless, and it made you even madder. “why did enter a relationship with me if you were just gonna treat me like a friend – not even a close friend, like a distant friend.” you didn’t mean to blow up, but you were hurt.

“baby what do you mean, i don’t treat you like a distant friend.” he said, putting his phone down finally. “yeah, you probably treat them better too.” changbin was taken aback by your words. “baby what has gotten into you?” he reach for your hand, but you pulled away. “talk to me.”

“we’ve been together for 4 months now, and i can count on my hands how many times you’ve hugged me, and i bet you that the number of times you hugged your members is 3x more.” you said. “you don’t let me hug you, or kiss you, you don’t even talk to me.”

“that’s not true.” he said. “why did I find out by han you were sick last week, and that’s why you canceled our date?” he didn’t want you to find out about that. “i didn’t want you to worry.” he said. “but i want to worry, i want to worry about you, i want to worry if you’ve eaten or if you’re getting enough sleep – i want to care about you, and i want to care about me.”

“i do care baby, i do it’s jus– i just want you to hug me and kiss me and love me, we don’t even have sex.” you exclaimed, your lips quivering, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “the one time we did it, you lied and said you came, when you didn’t i heard you go into the bathroom.”

his heart was hurting, he didn’t even realize he was hurting you like this. “are you just not into me, it’s okay if you aren’t but don’t lead me on please.” you said. “it hurts.” you walked away, going into your room closing the door.

soon after that, he got a text from you saying that he could leave if he wanted, just make sure the door was locked. he didn’t want to leave though, this was all his fault. he let his stupid insecurities get to him.

believe it or not , he did really love you, he was the one who pursued you after all – he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, you were kind to everyone, he desperately wanted to get to know you. he was ecstatic when you agreed to go on a date with him, and fell even deeper in love that he asked you to be his girlfriend only after 2 dates.

now that he had you, he wanted to keep you – and he knew that a lot of people would be overwhelmed by his amount of affection and he didn’t wanted to do that for you, so he didn’t get to close or smother you, he now see how he fucked up.

he was about to put his shoes on, when he decided no – he wasn’t gonna walk away from this so easily, he was gonna work this out with you, he was gonna show you.

he made his way to your room, knocking softly on the door. “baby?” you didn’t say anything. “baby i’m coming in okay?” he slowly opened the door, your back was facing him. “i said you could go.” your face was muffled from your face being muffled in the stuffed animal he bought you – it was the only thing he’d ever given you, giving changbin another reason to hate himself.

“i don’t want to.” you heard his light footsteps coming closer, the bed dipping indicating he had sat down. “can you look at me baby?” you ignored his request, he frowned, you felt his hands on your waste. “please baby, look at me.” you slowly turned, his heart shattering – your eyes were red, indicating you had been crying, he had made you cry. “i’m so sorry.” he said wiping your cheeks. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he whispered.

“do you not want to be with me?” he shook his head. “of course, i do, i really do.” he said, you sniffled, sitting up. “then why are you acting like that?” he sighed, embarrassed. “because i didn’t want to overwhelm you with my affection, it was stupid and i was being insecure, but i just didn’t want you to get freaked out and drive you away.”

he grabbed your hands, “i promise you i will never hurt you like this again, i’ll never make you feel unsure of my love for you.” he kissed your knuckles. “please forgive me.” his wyes were pleading with you, you felt how sorry he was. “i’ll forgive you this time, don’t do it again.” he nodded, eyes widening in excitement. “thank you baby, thank you so much.”

he pressed his lips against yours , his lips molding against yours perfectly, you sighed in content. he didn’t bother pulling away, climbing on top, your lips still glued together. he finally pulled away, missing your lips already. “i’ll kiss you like this every single day to make up for lost times.” you looked so cute laid under him, eyes fluttering. “mo-more please.”

he had to calm himself, another one of his qualms and the reason why he didn’t want to have sex with you, he knew he could be rough sometimes, and he didn’t want to hurt you, that’s why the first time you had sex he lied and said he finished, you had already came and he didn’t want to overstimulate you. “binnie?” you gently touched his cheek. “talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“i want you, fuck i want you so bad.” he said. “but i don’t want to hurt you, be too rough.” he held himself up, looking down at you. you bit your lip, the need bubbling up in your stomach. “i can take it, i promise, please.” he groaned, you didn’t even notice you were subtly grinding against his clothes cock. “please binnie, i want it.”

your whining did it for him, he held your waist down. “i got you.” he kissed you again, working down your neck. “gonna treat you so well.” he pushed himself off of you, you sat up, pulling your shirt off, throwing it to the floor. he hungrily grabbed your face, kissing you.

you laid against the pillow, his lips working down your stomach, you sighed as he reached the band of your shorts. “can i take them off princess?” you nodded; your breathing staggered. “please.” he yanked your shorts down, leaving you in your underwear. “look at that, so fucking pretty baby, i’m such an idiot for ignoring you.”

he came face to your clothed cunt, the wet spot in your baby blue underwear making him curse. “you’re so wet princess, so riled up just from some kissing.” he bumped his nose teasingly against your clit. “y-you haven’t touched me in so long, a-anything could turn me on.” you pouted, whimpering. “i know baby, i know.” he pulled your panties to the side, your cunt glistening and puffy. “i’ve neglected this little pussy for too long.” he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils. ��never again.”

he kissed your cunt, you moaned, he took that as a sign, fully attaching his mouth to your mound, making out with your clit. “changbin fuck!” you moaned, his face was pushed against you, lapping at your cunt, eating you like a starved man. “fe-feels so good.” you tugged at his hair, he groaned against your heat.

he engulfed your clit, sucking harshly on it. “w-wait -fuck- m’gonna cum if you do that.” he ignored your please, holding your legs open to keep you from closing them. “binnie, binnie i’m cumming!” you tried to warn him, but it was too late, your stomach tightening, cumming – your juices coating his face, he lapped up everything, leaving little kissing on your clit before he pulled away.

“you taste so good.” he used the pad of his thumb to continue the assault on your clit. “like candy baby.” he pushed a finger into your hole. “such a tiny hole.” you whimpered, his other hand coming up to your bra, pulling it down, your boobs spilling out. “an-another one.”

he added another one, stretching your hole even more. “sh-shit.” you mewled, he held your waist down, fucking his fingers into you. “that’s it, take my fingers, gotta get you ready for my cock.” you moaned, one thing you did remember about the time you had sex with him – he was huge, his cock was the perfect length and thick.

“you thinking about it baby?” he smirked. “thinking about my cock filling your tiny pussy hm stretching it past your limits?” you nodded. “p-please.” you felt your second orgasm approaching, your cunt tightening around his fingers. “you’re about to cum again princess, i can feel your cunt tightening my fingers, cum for me love.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, cumming.

“there we go, cum for me again.” he pulled his fingers out, covered in your juices. he undid his pants, along with his underwear. he wrapped his hand covered in your cum around his cock, stroking his length. “you’re drooling baby.” you covered your face in embarrassment. “no don’t hide your pretty face.” he pulled your legs apart, folding your body in half. “i wanna see your face when i split your tiny pussy with my fat cock.”

he rubbed his cock on your folds, your soft moan quickly turning into a scream as he pushed his thick cock into you. “so-so big.” you moaned. “fuck.” he cursed; your cunt was sucking him in. “your pussy is so fucking tight, i’ve been missing out on this cunt.” he sped up his movements, holding your legs open. “f-faster binnie.”

he sped up, his thrust becoming rougher, his balls slapping against your ass, your cunt choking his cock, he felt like he was losing himself, getting too drunk on your sweet cunt. “such a good baby, fucking cunt is so good, squeezing me like that.” he grunted, speeding up, you were now screaming his name, gripping the sheets as he abused your cunt. “never gonna neglect this cunt again, gonna stuff you full of my cock every night, make sure you still feel me inside you in the morning.”

he pushed deeper inside you, hitting your cervix. “so-so deep.” you moaned. “yeah, you can feel me in your stomach baby?” you nodded dumbly. “you’re drooling baby, did my cock make you dumb?” you tried to answer, but he just fucked deeper into you , wiping the drool from your lips. “messy baby.”

you felt it bubbling up in your stomach, your third orgasm approaching. “ch-chang- i know baby -fuck- i know, go ahead and cum, cum all over my cock.” Your back arched off the bed, thighs shaking as you came, a white ring forming around his cock as he chased his orgasm. “fuck princess, your cunt is still sucking me in, gonna cum inside of you don’t let me out.”

“pl-please i want it inside.” his mind went blank, his hips stuttering as he came, his cum filling you up, a warm feeling spreading through your body. “fu-fuck baby.” he sighed; his forehead pressed against yours. “i’m sorry baby, but you sounded so fucking pretty begging me to cum inside, i couldn’t help it.”

he tried to pull out, but you stopped him. “baby we gotta clean you up.” you shook your head no, pulling him as close as you could. “i wanna stay like this.” you sighed, he was on top of you, his body weight was comforting. “okay baby if that’s what you want.” he said. “we can stay like this for as long as you want.”

he didn’t mind at all , you guys had a lot of lost time to make up for.

©️LUVYENI

1K notes · View notes

lecsainz · 1 year

Text

Sister's Support

pairings: daniel ricciardo x sister!reader / charles leclerc x ricciardo!reader / max verstappen x ricciardo!reader / lando norris x ricciardo!reader / carlos sainz x ricciardo!reader

warnings: a day in the paddock with the ricciardo’s siblings, daniel being an annoying and funny brother, 2022 grid.

authors note: i think i don't need to say BUT I LOVED WRITING THIS VERY MUCH, apparently i love writing them all 😅 and i just miss ricc 😭 well, i hope you all like it.

word count: 1.7K

Y/N had always been too busy with college to attend her brother's races, and she never wanted to be in the public eye. As a result, she chose not to accompany Daniel through the paddock, opting instead to stay in a reserved family room or in the grandstands.

But one day, something shifted inside her. She woke up and realized that she wanted to experience a race in all its glory - to walk through the paddock, meet the drivers, and feel the energy of formula 1. And so she made the decision to join Daniel at a race, fully immersing herself in the world of motorsport.

And here she was stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down her dress and adjusting her hair. Today was the day of the race, and she was excited to be joining Daniel in the paddock.

She had flown in from Australia to Monaco just for this event, and she was determined to make the most of it.

As she finished applying her makeup, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey sis, you ready?" Daniel called out.

Y/N opened the door to find her brother grinning at her. "Ready as I'll ever be," she said, rolling her eyes.

Daniel laughed. "You look great. Although, maybe a little too great," he teased.

Y/N scowled at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Daniel just grinned. "Nothing, nothing. I just don't want any of the other drivers to get distracted by my little sister."

Y/N rolled her eyes again. "Please, as if."

As they walked through the hotel lobby, Y/N couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious. She was wearing a tight dress and heels, while Daniel was dressed in his usual casual attire.

But as they stepped outside and made their way to the paddock, Y/N started to relax. There was a buzz in the air, a sense of excitement that was contagious.

And as they walked through the paddock, Y/N felt her spirits lift even higher. There were so many people, all dressed in team colors and milling about, chatting and laughing.

Daniel introduced her to some of his colleagues, and Y/N tried her best to keep up with the racing lingo. She was a little intimidated by all the technical jargon, but she could tell that everyone was impressed by her enthusiasm.

She watched in amazement as her older brother Daniel climbed out of his race car, his face beaming with excitement. It was the first time she had ever come to a race with him, and the atmosphere was electric. Everywhere she looked, there were people milling about, mechanics tweaking engines, and drivers zipping around on their scooters. It was a world unlike any she had ever seen.

"Come on, sis!" Daniel called, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's go check out the paddock!"

Y/N followed him eagerly, taking in all the sights and sounds around her. As they walked, Daniel waved to other drivers, slapped high fives with mechanics, and generally acted like he owned the place.

"Hey, there's Max!" he said excitedly, pointing out the Red Bull driver as he walked by. "Hey, Max, over here!"

Max turned to look at them and raised an eyebrow in greeting. "Hey, Daniel. Who's your friend?"

"This is my sister, Y/N," Daniel said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "She's a bit of a newbie to all this, but I'm showing her the ropes."

Max nodded, giving Y/N a polite smile. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. You should come hang out with me and the guys later. We'll show you how to party properly."

Y/N felt a blush creeping up her neck. She had never been good at handling attention from guys, and Max was one of the most handsome drivers on the circuit.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she stammered, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

Daniel chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Don't mind her, Max. She's still a bit star-struck. Come on, let's go find some food."

They made their way to the hospitality area, where teams had set up tents and tables for their guests. As they approached the McLaren tent, Daniel saw a group of his teammates sitting together, laughing and joking.

"Hey, guys!" he called out, striding up to them. "Mind if I introduce you to my sister?"

The guys looked up, their eyes widening as they saw Y/N. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her makeup was immaculate. They had never seen Daniel with a girl like her before.

"Hey, Y/N," Lando Norris said, grinning widely. "Welcome to the crazy world of Formula 1."

"Thanks," Y/N said, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention. "It's amazing to be here."

They chatted for a few minutes, with Daniel teasing Y/N mercilessly about her lack of knowledge about the sport. "She doesn't even know what DRS stands for," he told his friends, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Y/N rolled her eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm learning," she protested. “And I know what it is DRS stands for Drag Reduction System, it's a...”

Daniel interrupts his sister “Or... DRS could stand for Daniel Ricciardo Supremacy. I mean, let's be real, that's what it's all about, right?”

Just then, they heard a voice calling out from across the paddock. "Hey, Dan! Over here!"

It was Carlos Sainz, the Ferrari driver, waving them over. Daniel grinned, giving Y/N a quick hug before leading the way.

"Hey, man!" he said, clapping Carlos on the back. "What's up?"

"Not much, just hanging out," Carlos said, grinning at Y/N. "And who's this lovely lady?"

"This is my sister, Y/N," Daniel said, proudly introducing her. "She's come to watch me race."

"Ah, I see," Carlos said, winking at her. "Well, you're welcome to hang out with us if you want, Y/N. We could use a bit of glamour in the Ferrari garage."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush again at the attention. "Sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to act cool.

For the rest of the day, Y/N found herself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. She watched as Daniel went through his pre-race routine, making sure that everything was in place for a successful day on the track. As she stood by his side, Daniel made sure to include her in every step of the process, explaining things to her and answering any questions she had.

During the race itself, Y/N watched from the pit wall as Daniel battled it out with the other drivers on the track. She felt a thrill of excitement as he made daring overtakes and defended his position against his rivals.

And while Daniel didn't end up winning the race, Y/N still felt a sense of pride and excitement as she watched him climb out of the car, sweaty and exhilarated.

As the celebrations wound down, Y/N found herself wandering around the paddock, feeling a little lost. That was when she saw him.

Charles Leclerc was standing a few feet away, talking to some of his mechanics. He looked up and caught her eye, and Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She had always had a bit of a crush on Charles, with his charming smile and piercing green eyes.

"Hey," he said, walking over to her. "You're Daniel's sister, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a little shy. "Yeah, that's me."

Charles smiled at her, looking genuinely interested. "So, what do you think of all this?"

"It's amazing," Y/N said, feeling a little more at ease now. "I've never seen anything like it."

Charles nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, it can be pretty overwhelming at first. But once you get used to it, it's just another day at the office."

They chatted for a few more minutes, with Charles asking Y/N about her life and interests. Y/N found herself relaxing more and more, feeling like she could actually be herself around him.

"Hey, would you like to grab a drink later?" Charles asked, sounding a little hesitant. "I know this great little bar down the road."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She had never expected something like this to happen.

"Yeah, that sounds great," she said, feeling a little giddy.

Charles smiled at her, and Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach.

As Y/N and Charles walked away, Daniel spotted them from across the paddock. He jogged over, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey, what are you two up to?" he asked, nudging Y/N in the side.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother's teasing. "Just hanging out," she said, trying not to sound too excited.

Daniel turned to Charles, giving him a playful punch on the arm. "Watch out, mate," he said, grinning. "Y/N's a bit of a heartbreaker."

Charles laughed, looking a little embarrassed. "Is that right?"

Daniel nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, you better keep an eye on her. She's trouble, I tell you."

Y/N groaned, feeling herself turn red. "Daniel, stop it," she said, swatting him on the arm.

"Charles, did you know that Y/N has a crush on a certain number 16 driver?" he said, grinning at his younger sister.

Y/N felt her cheeks turn bright red.

"Daniel, please." she hissed.

"Really?" Charles started teasing her. "Maybe I have a crush on her too."

She looked surprised at the monegasque and he gave her a wink. Y/N was sure she was redder than ferrari.

But despite her embarrassment, Y/N couldn't help feeling grateful to have her brother there. He might tease her relentlessly, but she knew he had her back no matter what.

As they continued chatting, Daniel made sure to include Y/N in the conversation, joking and teasing with both her and Charles. Y/N felt herself relaxing more and more, enjoying the company of her brother and this charming young driver.

And as she looked over at her brother, grinning from ear to ear, Y/N felt a sense of happiness that she had never felt before. Maybe, just maybe, she had found her place in the crazy, wonderful world of formula 1 after all.

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cheriladycl01 · 4 months

Text

Surrounded by Ice - Kimi Raikkonen x FigureSkater! Reader

Plot: The Iceman just surrounds himself with Ice in every aspect of his life

A/N: Just a short little Kimi drabble, more exciting stuff coming soon, just been swamped with Uni!

Credit to summerblueringo for the GIF

"How does it feel to bring home a gold medal for your country, again?" the interviewer asks and a big grin appears on your face.

"I mean, i love the sport and I've worked hard to get where I am. I think this year there were many other contestants who also deserved gold and everyone who took part today were amazing!" you keep smiling, it had been a really amazing set for you today. You'd even broke some records while here.

"And now what is your plan?" they ask holding the mic closer to you.

"Well my husband is waiting for me, just over there. So i think he wants to give me his congratulations" you say pointing out our stoic looking husband who was waiting in the background, keeping to himself watching the world go past.

"Ah yes, Kimi Raikkonen! The Ice Man, who arguably married Queen of the Ice" he jokes making you laugh a little. You had heard similar jokes many times since you'd married Kimi.

"Yes, obviously being here in South Korea for the Winter Olympics has been amazing, and I'll be sure to train hard for 2022 but now I'm needed to go support my lovely lovely husband in his fast cars" you exclaim, knowing that the Australian Grand Prix was round the corner.

"Ah yes, it's looking like a good season for Ferrari! And we can tell from your outfit today they already have your support"

"My support is for whatever team my husband is in, so Ferrari have had my support since Kimi has raced with them!"

You left the interview thanking your team before finding Kimi waiting for you quietly.

"Home?" you ask and he nods silently grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the arena.

"You were fantastic today!" he smiles, holding you and pulling you into a kiss.

"Yeah? You liked the new twist i did?" you ask, your routine today being one of the hardest you'd ever done. You mascara had infact started to run, from the sweat building on your forehead throughout the day.

"I like everything you do"

You guys both went back to the hotel, packing up all of your gear that had been here for the past month you'd stayed in Korea for. Once you were sure you hadn't left anything behind you made your way to the airport.

Kimi now only had a month until Australia, his personal trainer had come with you to Korea to help him train while he was out there supporting you.

Now, you'd train while you were travelling with Kimi. Finding ice while on the road with him was always difficult, but finding places to just work out and keep your fitness up was never hard as you'd train alongside Kimi. It was one of the ways to spend extra time with him during the season when he was most busy.

In the free month before Australia you started your research on where you could go in Melbourne to skate, you found somewhere that Kimi was happy with you going too as it wasn't too far from the hotel you'd be staying in or the race track for if anything went wrong.

"Will you watch me on the Sunday though?" he'd asked you as you were both lying in bed the night before you were due to fly to Australia.

"When have I ever not?" you ask, turning over in bed to look at him.

"Hmmm, I can for sure think of one time..." he smirks looking over you.

"If your talking about China, almost 10 years ago that doesn't even count!" you laugh, poking his cheek a little.

Your husband never failed to amaze you, his striking blue eyes and his soft blonde hair was what initially drew you in. But it was your first interaction with him that made you fall for him fully.

It was the Autumn of 2008 and you were 22 and you had just won your second Gold Medal in China, you'd stayed there for the months after the games as they left the Beijing Olympic Park open and it seemed like a good place to stay and to train.

You managed to get tickets to other sporting events in the months you stayed there such as Snow Boarding, Golf but the best one was when the Chinese Grand Prix came about.

You were active on the socials you had back then, and so it wasn't hard for Sauber BMW to reach out to you and give you a guest pass.

You'd been walking round the paddock, just investigating when you'd bumped right into the Finnish Ferrari driver. He had just stared at you while holding a tight grip on your wrist so you didn't fall over.

You remember him asking if you were okay, and some other questions that you hadn't heard fully as your brain had gone foggy at the sound of his soft, yet deep voice.

It was a little embarrassing, when he'd tried to speak Finnish to you, and then decided on English, but with no reply he was left stumped and awkwardly standing there.

He'd soon left after that but you were on each other's minds for the whole day. You tried to keep up conversations with the BMW drivers Robert and Nick but your mind kept drifting the the Finnish Driver for Ferrari.

He found you after the race, and just stared at you for a while before you made the first move speaking to him. And the rest was history.

You spent the next 5 years together as partners, it was convenient for someone like Kimi who raced all through the year apart from summer and winter to end up with someone in a sport who only competed for a month in the summer and winter. It meant that they also still got a break with each other.

After 5 years, Kimi let the big question unload and now you'd been married for 5 years.

"Of course, my love! You know that!" you smile, pulling him closer to you. You tuck yourself into his surprisingly warm embrace, considering his nickname was 'Iceman' he was the warmest person you'd ever had the privilege of meeting.

"I was thinking ..." he breathes, his voice a little higher and whiny than normal.

"Mmmmm, you don't do that often?" you tease, a hand running up and down his back.

"Well, I'm the ice man, your the Ice Queen... i was thinking maybe it's time we have an Ice Baby?" he whispers in the softest most unsure tone you'd ever heard.

"You think now's a good time?" you ask, and thinking about it... it was. You yourself had two years before the next Olympics in 2020, and Kimi was at a point in his career where he could leave and live comfortably if he needed and wanted to.

"I haven't told you this, but they want the Sauber kid in my spot. I'll be going to Alpha Romeo next year. I feel like I've done what i can and I've had my time in the sport... and we aren't getting any younger. Especially me..." he jokes, being 44 now.

"Mmmmmm I think now is the perfect time" you smile.

Flash forward to the Austin Grand Prix and you were 6 months pregnant. You'd already announced it and so many people were excited for you and Kimi, through the season he had loads of interviews. All against his will of course but people saw a different side to him when he talked about you and the soon to be baby.

It was a great race for Kimi in Austin, he pulled through with his first win of the season, valuable points that helped contribute towards his position in the drivers standings.

"So Kimi, first win of the season today! How are you feeling?" an interviewer asks, he was sat in a panel with some of the other drivers in a debrief.

"It was good to get a win, this season has been tough. We've had an interesting year with veteran drivers like myself, Seb, Fernando and Lewis being pushed by newer or younger drivers who are proving to be good competition like Charles, Max and Pierre" he answers.

"There have been rumors that you wont be here with us next season?" he pushes and Kimi roles his eyes.

"If I'm not it's not an issue... racing is my hobby that i get paid to do. I'll leave when i want to" he admits without letting anything slip that Ferrari wouldn't want to come public knowledge.

"Lets move on to you Lewis..."

And for the rest of the interview all he could think of was coming back to you.

Once your daughter was born in January before the start of the 2019 season and Kimi moving to Alfa Romeo everyone on the grid wanted to meet her. So of course, you were obligated to come to Australia for pre-season testing. Your 3 month old being so intrigued at the busy rush of everything around her.

She was a fan and driver fav around. Everyone had a picture with her and introduced themselves as her uncle and that they would look after her. People like Lewis, Seb and Charles all came with little gifts for her, Seb even had someone make her a custom team Ferrari top so she could fit in with her father and her Uncle Sebastian.

"Today was amazing!" you sighed as you leaned into your husband who currently held your daughter against his bare chest.

"Mmmm, I think you should both take a break though, at least until Summer break and join me afterwards" he smiles, knowing that the heavy time change from Monaco to Australia wasn't good for your or the baby.

"Well, I may as well come to Bahrain with you... its on the way back. But I will leave after that" you smile, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I love you, thank you for giving me this life" he smiles looking between you and his daughter.

"I wouldn't have it any of way" you grin.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #kimi raikkonen #kimi räikkönen #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen one shot #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen imagine

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months

Note

Geto or Gojo being mean asf in bed😍

Anon, I love you.

Action’s and Consequences!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB Y/N

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings: Mentions of drugging, alcohol consumption, language, rough sex, fighting, Mean!Suguru 🥵

Summary: The morning after a terrible night at the club starts with you and Suguru’s first major fight. A fight that Suguru will make sure you never forget.

“Oh my god! Give me a fucking break!” You yelled behind you as Geto stormed after you. “I made a stupid mistake!”

Geto scoffed, grabbing your arm and hauling you back. “A simple mistake?! You call letting some guy buy you a drink without watching him a simple mistake!? Y/N, he fucking slipped you something!!” You winced, partially from your hangover, and the other half was due to the lack of food in your stomach.

��I was talking to his friend! Just like you were letting THAT skank rub up against you!”

This was the nastiest fight you and Suguru had ever gotten into. You both went out with Satoru and Shoko to a new club. There had been shots involved, lots of shots. And you had been having fun until you spotted a girl rubbing her hand against your boyfriend’s chest, and he just let it happen. So, in retaliation, you started talking to some guy who bought you a drink that just so happened to be laced with something.

If it hadn't been for Satoru, who hates alcohol, the guy would have snuck you to the back. Instead, Satoru rubbed your back while you were in the hall puking your guts out, getting whatever the dick slipped you out of your system. Geto was livid, mainly at the asshole who hurt you.

But he was also mad at you.

The morning had come, and it was not a peaceful morning. It had been a yelling match since you woke up to find Suguru watching you, telling you you needed to talk about what happened. All of this started with him! He let that random bitch touch him. Yet he wanted to blame you!

“You are such a fucking brat!” He snapped, grabbing his jacket. “If you had stopped and watched me, I pulled away the second that girl touched me! All you saw in your drunken haze was a second!” Your nose burned as tears flooded your eyes. “Oh, but you should know how a second works! Because all it took was a second for some guy to drug you!!”

“Geto, I'm not playing your fucking game!!”

“Fine by fuckin’ me!”

Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door in his wake. You screamed in frustration, heading to the bathroom to cool off. Stupid Geto, stupid skank, stupid club! Last night sucked, and today sucked even more.

You wanted to stay angry, to boil with rage. But as you stood in the shower, the hot water running over you, your mind cleared. You didn't watch Suguru when the girl touched him. It happened in a flash. The alcohol made it worse than it was. While the anger consumed you, you made a stupid decision and didn't focus on your safety. You had put yourself in a terrible situation.

It could have turned out worse if Satoru hadn't been watching you as the forever DD.

Thinking back, you grimaced at thinking about what Suguru had gone through. To have his loving girlfriend fine and dandy, and the next she's vomiting a laced drink up? He had every right to be worried and upset when you had nothing to be angry about.

Suguru brought you home, gave you water, and held your head back when you got sick. And the first thing you did was yell at him? All because he wanted to talk (like an adult) about what happened.

God, was this what it felt like to be in the dog house?

After your shower, you got dressed, trying to call your boyfriend. Each attempt went straight to voicemail, and your texts were left on read. Your little fights didn't even count as fights! This was uncharted territory. Because you had never pissed Suguru off like this.

An hour and a half later, the door opens to the apartment, and you run for the door. Suguru places two cups of coffee on the table and a sack from the convenience store. He says nothing as he chucks his jacket off, draping it over the couch.

You swallow hard, stepping towards him. “S-Sugu is that coffee for me.” All you get is a nod. “I uhm, thank you.” Another nod. God, you hated the cold shoulder! You didn't want to keep fighting! “Suguru, can we talk please?” Dark eyes finally dart towards you.

“I thought you didn't want to play my games?”

“I-I was mad this morning when I should have shut my mouth.” Your voice was nearly inaudible. “I thought you were letting girls touch you.”

“No, you assumed girls were touching me.” Suguru clarified as he towered over you. “When I have been faithful and loyal to you since day one! But you, you let some guy buy you a drink, you allowed him the chance to hurt you!”

His words stung, but they were true. “I'm sorry, I was wrong. I put myself in a terrible position. All because I was jealous.” tears hit the floor as you finally looked up at Suguru with a sniffle. “I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance. I'll never let it happen again, Suguru.” Seeing you cry, hearing you apologize and own up for what happened, well, it left Suguru somewhat satisfied.

But he was still pissed.

“I hate it when people look at you like you're some meal for the taking. I hate it even more when you allow them to buy you a drink and drug you.” He lifted your chin with his forefinger, his eyes glancing at your neck. “Maybe I need to collar you and keep you on a fucking leash.”

His words were like ice, but there was a fire in his eyes. One you were familiar with. “I-If that would make you feel better, that's fine.”

"Maybe that'll make me feel better," Suguru growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as he looked into your eyes. "Maybe that's what I need. Total control. Make you mine in every sense of the word." He slowly smirked. "Yeah. That's it."

“O-Okay. . .yeah, I like the sound of that.”

The second he had your consent, his lips feverishly crashed against your own, kissing you deeply. Suguru pulled back a moment later, looking at your flushed face with a snark before kissing you again. Fuck you tasted so good, and the way you willingly submitted to him was almost too much for him to handle.

The intensity of the kiss and his hand gripping your throat. It made your pussy throb with unfiltered need. He was never this mean and rough, and holy hell. You liked it.

Feeling you melt against him has Suguru growling in need. "What? You like this, don't you?" He nipped at your neck, making sure he marked you. “Like me getting mad at you.”

You couldn't respond. All you managed to do was whine. And Suguru didn't like that. His hand gripped your throat, squeezing gently. "I asked you if you liked it bitch.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped for air. Tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. “Y-Yes, I like it when you're mad!” He let go of his hand on you, allowing it to simply hover over your sensitive throat.

"Now tell me if it was a lie. Do you like this?"

You whined, realizing he wasn't going to let up. “Yes! I'm telling you the truth, Sugu!”

Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah? God, what a nasty slut you are, Y/N." He quickly pulled your shirt up, diving into your tits, massaging them with both hands as he kissed and nipped at your hardening nipples.

Seeing Suguru like this, feral and angry, wanting to put you in your place. That was the only foreplay you would have needed. God, it was so hot.

Noticing your glazed-over eyes, Suguru let go moments later, sliding his hands down to pull your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Lucky me,” his eyes trailed over you, “I’m dating the prettiest bitch in the world~" He purred.

Biting your lip, you watched him. “Thank you.” Your thighs glistened with slick, and seeing that Suguru dragged you to the bedroom.

He threw you onto the mattress, grabbing both your legs and pressing them against your chest. Fully exposing your cunt for him to see in all its dripping glory. You turned red, your hand covering your face at his rough actions.

“W-What are you doing?” You squeaked out, peeking at him through your fingers.

"I told you I was going to make you mine," Suguru grumbled, reaching down, tugging down the hem of his sweatpants, tucking them under his balls. “My naughty slutty girlfriend doesn’t listen to me." He growled softly as he leaned down, kissing and biting at your neck again. It always made you melt, and he wanted to feel it again before he fucked you stupid.

You sighed breathlessly, shivering and melting against him. Mewls escaped your lips as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Mnngh, f-fucking fuck shit.” You sometimes hated how sensitive your neck was, and now that he knew it, you were clay in his hands.

Suguru held you down with one hand while sliding the other down to wrap around his cock, positioning it to a tight entrance. "Are you ready to be fucked into submission?~" He asked as he slid the tip inside of you.

Tilting your head back, you whine at the stretch. “F-Fuck.” You never would get over how big he was. “Suguru.” You tried looking at your conjoined bodies.

Suguru moaned, slowly sliding further inside of you. You could feel his hips trembling. He was holding back. Making sure he didn’t hurt you.

You stared at him in shock. “Fuck me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Y-You said you were going to make me yours. .that you were going to fuck me stupid.”

Suguru’s movement ceased as his

eyes widened, focused on you before an evil smile split across his face, and he slammed into you. "Fuck yeah-!!"

You dug your nails into his back. Eyes widening, as your mouth fell in an ‘O’ shape, all the air was fuvked out of your lungs.

Hissing at the scratches down his back, Suguru growled, the pain egging him on. He thrusted hard into you, quickly setting a dominating rhythm, ruining your insides with his massive cock. "Fucking-Fuck-! Such good fucking pussy. Too bad my girlfriend was a little shit last night. Or this could have been romantic~" He growled out. “Instead, I have to fuck some common fucking sense into her!”

Tears started to pour down your cheeks at the overstimulation. Before a sob could escape, Suguru gently slapped your cheek. "Nuh huh bitch, you're the one who told me to fuck you like I meant it, Princess~" He growled, one hand sliding down to rub your clit.

You whimpered and arched your back, “I-I know! I'm sorry! So sorry!.” You cried out while staring up at the ceiling.

“Tsk,” Suguru grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You're mine." He thrust harder into your tight pussy. "You're mine because I want you, Y/N. I fucking wanted you the second I saw you."

“Y-Yes!.” That was all you managed to say. “Yes, I’m yours.” You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“If you ever let some stranger buy you a drink again, I won't be as fuckin’ nice. I love you, dumbassdont fuckin’ forget it! No one else but you!”

“Yes! I'm sorry it won't happen again!”

Suguru groaned, leaning down and biting your neck as he felt the coil in his stomach tightening. It was your grip around his cock that tightened with the bite that sent him over the edge. He started to fill you up, his cum painting your walls white.

You lay there panting softly as you felt his cum filling you up. “F-Fuck.” you breathed out, relaxing against the bed. Still buried inside of you, you looked down to see his entire torso, rippling muscles covered in sweat.

"You didn't cum."

Suguru throbbed inside of you, his cock pressing against your G-spot as he bent down to get closer to your face. "You're going to fuckin’ cum. Sure, I'm ticked off, but I’m not a sadistic asshole.” When you didn't respond, he sighed before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing your vibrator. He turned it on the highest setting, pressing it against your clit right away. "Now be a good girl for once and cum."

“A-Ah! Sensitive Suguru!” You started rocking against him, nipples hard as you watched him. “Feels good, though~!!”

Suguru growled as he slowly rocked into you. "That's it~" He reached with his free hand, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers.

Within seconds, whether it was the fact that you liked seeing Suguru so mad or the sex was just so good, his actions made you gush around his cock. The intensity of it made you scream, gripping the pillow behind you as your legs shook.

Feeling you cum around him was enough to have his cock filling you up with his cum for the second time this morning; globs of your combined juices seeped around his girth. "Shit-!"

You were shaking, eyes glazed over with pleasure. Just as you released your grip on the pillow. Suguru held you firmly against him before he slowly pulled out of you, leaning down and kissing you deeply. It was a vivid contrast to the man that just fucked you stupid, but it was also sweet and very much like Suguru.

“Don't ever scare me like that again. You got lucky last night Y/N.”

The guilt began to rise in your chest again. “I know I'm sorry. Truly, I am Sugu.” His eyes bore into yours. “I'm sorry.” he pressed another kiss against your lips.

“I'm sorry I didn't protect you.”

“Suguru, you don't have to apologize. You took great care of me last night.” he hummed, stroking your hair. “Please don't beat yourself up.”

“I won't if you don't.”

“Ah,” you giggled, shaking your head, “you would play that card.” You ran your hands over his shoulders.

“Yeah, just shut up and relax. You need to get all the rest you can.” there was a certain smugness in his tone. One that reminded you of your high school days.

You blinked, pulling back to stare at Suguru. “Why?”

“Because you owe Satoru a favor for saving you. And you'll be taking my place at the Sweets-Expo he wants to visit in Kyoto next weekend.”

“Just me and Satoru?” You gulped.

“For an entire weekend. And you know Satoru, he's going to visit every single vendor.” He smirked, hearing your audible groan. “Suffer.”

“Is it too late to ask you to stay mad at me?”

Suguru grinned against your skin. “That boat sailed the second you apologized when I got home.” he kissed your collarbone, savoring your groan of defeat.

#getou suguru x y/n #jjk men #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jjk x you #jjk smut #JJK #reader x geto #geto suguru #reader x suguru #suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru x you #suguru smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader

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catch1ngmoths · 3 days

Note

BRO I LOVE YOUR WRITING OML ESPECIALLY WITH JOOST ?! MHSKYTJSSYJ

Anywho im allergic to happiness rn so could you write a joost x reader (gn if possible, if you don’t do gn do whatever your comfortable doing idm:3) with like reader admitting that they’ve been struggling (like with depression, suicidal thoughts etc etc)

If you’re uncomfortable with any of this feel free to ignore!! Have an amazing day/night AND GET SOME SLEEP(•̀ᴗ•́)و

࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SOBER TO DEATH ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “take your hands off your neck and hold onto the ghost of my body…” - car seat headrest 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: you’ve been struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts. You’re struggling with a pretty bad mental episode just as your boyfriend Joost comes home…

Note: I love you all omfg, the support is insane! I absolutely love writing and reading angst so I get you annon 🙏🏻. PART TWO OF, “Only stay with you one more night” WILL BE OUT TOMORROW!!

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, bad mental episode + comfort

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You’ve been going through it, really going through it. You had no energy to do anything anymore. No energy to get outta bed, brush your teeth, or even eat. You felt utterly and completely worthless every single day of your life.

The thoughts of getting rid of all the pain and suffering your mind made you go through on a daily basis plagued your mind. The only reason you’d haven’t gone through with your plethora of ideas to end it all was your boyfriend, Joost.

He was the most important person in your life and the best guy you’d ever met. He always helped your mood; anytime he smiles, you smile. Anytime he laughs, you laugh. Anytime he’s happy, you’re happy. But he wasn’t around, not here to talk to you and hold you in his arms.

He was on tour and had been for the past few weeks, you’d realized how bad it’s been without the comfort and just presence of Joost. Don’t get me wrong, every day he was away from you he felt even more annoyed and irritated with everyone around him. Not his fans of course, while performing that was the little peace he got in the day. He just wanted to hold you, he craved it. Just the sight of you made his nerves calm immediately.

You both were like a cure to each others bad moods (THE CURE MENTIONED??!!), fixing each others problems by just being near each other. But your mental health has been the worst it’s ever been these few weeks. You don’t remember the last time you ate and especially drank water. You haven’t left your bed even, falling into deep thoughts of harming yourself that would worry anyone.

The good news is Joost was coming back today, he was practically rushing to get back home to you. FaceTime calls and texting just wasn’t doing it for him, he needed to hold and kiss you. You on the other hand totally forgot Joost was coming home, you’d lost track of time a while ago.

It was around 6pm when you heard the familiar sound of keys opening the front door of your apartment. Your eyes widen, is he home?? Is it really him..?! Before you can get outta your bed a figure comes running towards you with a wide smile, jumping on you and pulling you against them.

You feel yourself smile for the first time in weeks, breathing in the familiar smell of Joosts cologne. He grabs your cheeks and presses kisses all over your face, “missed you so so much baby” he says, his accent bringing the much needed comfort you craved.

He pulls away, looks at you and can immediately tell something’s wrong. He scans your face with narrowing eyes. You looked skinnier and had dark circles around your eyes, even still looking beautiful as ever but he knew you weren’t okay. He doesn’t need to elaborate or even explain, he just says, “what’s been going on in that pretty little head of yours hmm.?”

You sigh, he always knew when something was wrong. He would never let it go unanswered or ignored, “I’ve been getting worse without you here..” you say with a sad sigh, you could always be open and honest with him both of you knew that.

“Talk to me mijn lieve schatje” he says, rubbing your back comfortingly. You pour you heart out, you tell him all about your suicidal thoughts. You tell him about how you haven’t eaten or drinking anything in god knows how long. Your body felt so weak, it took a lot out of you to even raise your arm. You explain how depressed you’ve been, feeling like the most miserable person ever.

He gives you his full and undivided attention, keeping eye contact even when you looked away he stares at you with the most intense eyes that were filled with love and nothing but utter care and worry for your wellbeing. Once you’re done he immediately begins, “well first of all, I’m gonna make you something to eat and drink.”

He says picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen, placing you on the countertop and making you food. Not before handing you a water bottle and making sure you drink all of it. Once your fead, he brings you to the bathroom. You both shower together, he washes your hair and body affectionately while he presses kisses wherever he could.

Once you were both back in bed and ready to sleep he speaks once more right before you were about to fall asleep. “You’re coming on tour with me for now on, I don’t think I can spend that long without you again.” Is the last thing you hear before long kisses are pressed to your eyelids before you’re consumed by darkness….

#joost x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost x fem reader #justice for joost

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hughesurdaddy43 · 4 months

Text

Come over

Summary: I'm setting off. But not without my muse

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem reader

Note: IM sorry guys this one is actually so long so I cut it in half so the next part Ill post tomorrow & its gonna kill you

It's been three days since you've last seen Quinn. 72 hours since the two of you shared a kiss. 259,200 seconds of you replaying that moment in your head, over and over again.

Quinn had already left for his away game, and not seeing him in person again after he single handedly took your breath away was driving you crazy.

You sit on your couch, having yet another lazy day after opting out of going into your office today. Your mind is too much in a daze to deal with annoying coworkers who are a little too interested in your friendship with the famous hockey player. With your computer in your lap, you try and focus on an email from your boss that has gone unread for the last four days, and as soon as you start reading the first line, your phone starts to ring.

Quinns name flashes on the screen and you don't hesitate to toss your computer to the side and answer your FaceTime call. He flashes a smile as soon as the call connects. It's dim where he is, and you soon realize that he's on the bus. His under eyes are dark, and his beard is a little more scruffy than usual, but that doesn't stop you from thinking he's still the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on .

"Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?" You ask Quinn, raising your eyebrow at him. It's a mom kind of question, one that you know Ellen would ask if she had seen him awake this late at night after he had played, and won a game.

"Couldn’t sleep," He tells you, and you know it's a lie. His poker face never worked on you. You roll your eyes at him letting him continue. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Your heart does a backflip, which seems like the only thing it's been doing lately.

"Go for it." You tell him.

Before Quinn responds, you watch as he pulls his headphones off and look off in the distance. He's talking to someone on the other side of the phone, so you take another moment to admire him. The way he listens intently to whoever it is he's talking to you, how his eyes don't look away until he's finished talking.

He makes it easy for you to remember all the reasons you fell in love with him.

"What are you doing right now?" He asks once his attention is back on you. You let out a laugh, pulling your phone closer to your face. "I'm waiting for that question you wanted to ask me." You say in a 'duh' tone.

Quinn laughs, following your own actions and pulling his phone closer to his face. You can't help but stare at his lips, reminiscing how they felt against your own.

"Oh yeah, I'm flying you out to Jersey. To watch me and my brothers play. Well," He pauses, "Just Luke actually, Jack's out with an injury, but mom and Luke would love for you to be there."

"That wasn't a question, Quinn. And what about Jim?" You tease, and Quinn smiles again. "Jim is Jim. So, you'll be there?"

You shrug your shoulders, looking over at your computer that still has the email from your boss on the screen.

"I already bought the flight and the hotel, and it's" Another pause, "10:45 right now. Your flight is tomorrow at 9 in the morning, and you'll get to Jersey some time in the evening. I have a driver picking you up." A final pause, Quinn catches his breath. "It's all taken care of." He says softly.

It's times like this, where you remember Quinn has money. Where he's willing to spend a lot of money for you to be anywhere with him, but with the sweet gesture comes curiosity and you can't help but wonder if he's done things like this for her.

A part of you wants to tell him no. You have your own life in Vancouver. Your job, half-assed plans that you'd already made with your friends, you can't always drop everything for Quinn. But he knows you better than he knows hockey. He knows you'll be there.

"I guess I should start packing then, yeah?" His smile grows wider, "Will you text me when you're boarding?" He asks, and you nod your head 'yes'

The both of you stare at each other through your screens. Silently admiring each other. Secretly acknowledging how easy it is for you two to be together.

Once you hang up, you immediately run to your closet. Most of the items hanging up are Quinns. Hoodies, t-shirts, old jersey and even a couple of suits that he's left after late nights and early mornings. "What's mine is his" You think to yourself. You start throwing in a mix of yours and his clothes.

New Jersey is a cold state, something you'd learned the hard way after a failed trip a few years ago. You'd insisted that you didn't need to bring a winter coat on your trip because you already live in a cold climate, you were used to the cold. Quinn reminded you how you were always cold, and that you'd definitely needed to bring your coat, but like a stubborn child, you'd ignored him. "I'll be fine," You had told him, and instead of arguing, he let you figure it out on your own.

You stare at the winter coat hanging up. The winter coat Quinn had ended up buying you because he had gotten tired of you stealing his.

And it's almost like he's listening to your thoughts, sharing your memory even though he's thousands of miles away, because once your phone dings and you look down at your home screen, you see Quinn has reminded you to make sure to bring your winter coat.

#hockey boys #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #hockey blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #nhl

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slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You | Part IV

Welcome back! This time we have the second ghostface smut. Part V will be out later tonight, but no smut! Just some pure angst and fluff. As always, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+, P in V, Fingering, Oral female!receiving, Overall smut

Part I Part II Part III Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Word Count: 2673

You had a good five seconds on campus before someone finally noticed. Before you even made eye contact with her for the first time that day, Tatum let out the biggest gasp she had ever made and grabbed your shoulder. “And who did you spend your night with,” she asked as you immediately blushed, covering up your hickey with your palm. “None of your business, tate,” you said as Stu laughed and put his arm around Tatum’s waist. “Maybe Randy finally got his shot, I mean with how scared you must be about the killer, maybe he offered some protection for you,” Stu joked as Billy laughed.

“Don’t get the dork all worked up, Stu, you might put one too many ideas in that perverted brain of his,” Billy said as Randy rolled his eyes. “I can confirm it was not me, sadly, one of us actually has a job instead of living off student loan refunds,” Randy said as the group put their attention back on you. “Well, whoever mauled you better show up at the mall after class today. I wanna see who gave you that, you know, to vet them or whatever,” Tatum said as Sidney nodded. “Yeah, and then we’ll get on their case for mauling you,” she added, making you laugh.

Your day was mostly spent around nervously tiptoeing around the girls questioning you on who you spent the night with. You had talked to other people on campus that didn’t include your little friend group but had never shown interest in them, so they questioned you on any and every one they knew to see who it was. “Okay, what about the guy who almost hit you with that football last week, Kyle? Kit? Kaleb.” Tatum recalled, “Kevin, and no,” you answered simply as Sidney took a stab at it. “Nah, it has to be Oliver,” she suggested, making you pause and show a gross look. “One of my biggest bullies in high school? No thanks,” you shrugged as Billy turned his gaze to you, Stu looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

“Bully?” Billy questioned as you nodded. Throughout most of school you had been bullied, not really by one group in particular but there were enough to only leave you with Casey as one of your only friends until senior year. It stopped when college came around, no one cared enough to bully someone they spent one hour a day with. “Yeah, he always bullied me, ever since second grade. At first everyone thought he liked me because they thought being mean to someone was how you showed a crush but after this one time he faked asking me out in high school just to stand me up, it came kinda clear he hated me,” you explained with a little bitter laugh, going silent when you noticed the awkwardness.

Billy’s face was stone cold, but you could tell in his eyes that he was angered. “It’s fine, I’m over it now, but yeah, definitely not someone I would let sleep with me,” you said as you looked away, not noticing the glance that Stu and Billy shared. “Is he still a dick to you?” Stu asked as you laughed, “I guess? I dunno, I find it more funny that he’s still got a grudge against me for some reason, but at least he doesn’t try to pull my hair anymore,” you said jokingly.

“How about we go in there?” Tatum suggested as you and Sidney both shared a laugh, “what? You have a mystery date and you might want a cute outfit for Billy sometime,” Tate said as you and Sidney looked to each other before looking at the boys. “How about you two run off for a bit instead of being giant pervs, we’ll meet up again at the food court,” you suggested as Billy and Stu were quick to agree. Their rapid head shakes made you all rile up with laughter, smiling and heading into the store together.

“Sooo, what’s your mystery dates favorite color?” Tate asked as you smiled, “I don’t know actually, that’s a good question,” you hummed as you looked at the different choices of lingerie that lined the store. “I think they like any color really,” you said as you spotted a red laced set, it was a bralette styled top that had strips running down the side to connect to the underwear. Sidney noticed where your eyes lingered and laughed, “they’re kinky, huh?” She joked as you laughed and nodded, “really,” you agreed. You picked through the outfit to find your size, wondering if ghostface would like it, you guessed they probably would enjoy the blood red color of it.Later that night you were in your bathroom, glad that your parents had left to have dinner at your grandparents, which they did very hesitantly given the incident a few days ago. When you reassured that with all your friends only a few blocks away and access to cars, as well as the marvelous creation of phones to dial 911, they let you be.

You found yourself looking in the mirror as you checked yourself out for the 100th time in the lingerie you had bought. You blushed and wondered if your masked killer would enjoy the outfit, running your hand slowly across the lace fabric. You heard a noise from outside, quickly throwing on a tshirt- one you didnt care about if ruined again- and pj shorts before heading out into your bedroom.

You peeked over your window to see nothing, frowning to yourself before sighing and taking a seat on your bed. But when you were met with the back of the costumed body looking over your vanity you let out a small scream, making them turn to you. “Jesus christ you scared me!” You yelled at them before relaxing, “no window climbing this time?” You asked as they shook their head, continuing to look around the room. You noticed their little glances around the room, curious as to why they were studying it. They turned towards you once more, walking over to you and looking you over. They were less aggressive than last time, using two fingers to tilt your head up to them. Their fingers were warm, which caught you off guard, just yesterday they were cold to the touch.

“There’s two of you?” You questioned, their demeanor changing quickly as they grabbed your chin. “I-I don’t know who you are, i swear. It’s just- y-your touch…” you spoke quickly, trailing off as their grip loosened. “The last one was cold, kinda felt like a corpse,” you said jokingly, “and you’re warm…plus you keep looking around like you haven’t been here before.” You said to them, their touch going back to just gently holding your chin up. They moved away from you, going back to your vanity and grabbing a small black bag, bringing it over to you. You blinked in surprise, looking up to them before they gestured to open it. You reached into the bag, pulling out a piece of paper that was torn, giggling at the words that were printed onto it. ‘Sorry about the last guy :(‘

“See? I would have figured it was two of you anyways,” you said as they shook their head. You smiled, reaching back into the bag and looking at your two new Carrie shirts. One was in the style as your previous one, the other a different one but still in the correct size. “I didn’t think I would actually be treated to a new shirt,” you admitted, hearing a chuckle from them. You didn’t say it out loud, but your heart was filled with joy knowing these two masked killers, regardless of not knowing them, were being so kind and caring towards you. You swooned, noticing how different the two seemed. The other one scared you a little, not really knowing their true intentions, but this one seemed so much more gentle and sweet with you. “I um, I also had a little surprise for you,” you said, noticing how they perked up at your words.

A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked up to them, adjusting yourself before sitting up on your knees. “but you’ll have to take my clothes off first to see it, mr. ghostface.” you whispered out, which made them grab you by the waist and lay you down on the bed. They didn’t take out the knife, instead their hands darted to the hem of your shirt and lifted it up to reveal the red lingerie underneath. A small groan left them as they quickly worked on taking off your shorts, making you giggle at the rush in their actions. You let out a little whimper as they groped you, aware now of how unintentionally strong their grip was. They squeezed your breast that was covered in the lace, their other hand roaming up and down your side. The lack of their touch made you whine out, pouting up at them before they moved to grab the final thing from the bag. A new blindfold, one dedicated just for you. They were quick to tie it, making sure you didn’t see through it by waving in front of you.

All you heard was a little thump of the mask and them struggling to take their gloves off before you heard the rest of their clothing thump to the ground. Before you could even take in a breath you felt their hand already cupping your core, their lips attacking the part of your breasts that were left uncovered from the lingerie. They roamed around before their lips were now on your neck, creating a new hickey right above the old one. You moaned softly, a shaky hand reaching to grab their arm.You could feel their muscles contract and tighten at the touch but when you made no movement to touch elsewhere, they quickly calmed down and continued their lust filled attack on you. They teased you over the lace panties you wore, their smirk growing as you let out little huffs and moans. The bed lifted, their frame no longer causing it to dip and your hand was left holding nothing, a small pout made its way to your agitated frown as their touch left you. After a moment you gasped, feeling their hands spreading your legs apart as they placed gentle kisses onto your inner thighs.

It was the first time you felt the blade, but they didn’t trail it across your skin like the other, instead they used it to make you exposed to them. Another whine left you, “you owe me a new outfit again, this was brand new,” you whined, they responded with a nip to your inner thigh, not doing anything else before diving into you.Your back arched on impact, their tongue on your clit as they spread you open with their thumbs. “fuck,” you moaned out, your thighs closing around their head to lock them in place in pure instinct. They were skilled at this, eventually finding the perfect pace that had you shaking and squirming. Every time you tried to shimmy up and get away from the pleasure, their large hands wrapped around your thighs from behind and pulled you back down onto their face. You weren’t even aware of how many minutes had passed before your thighs were shaking, only being held up by their grip. “Wait, fuck, you’re-“ the breath was knocked out of your lungs as they entered their middle finger into you, their pace matching that of their tongue as they thrusted it in and out of you.

A loud moan left your lips as you came, whines and whimpers erupting from your chest as their ministrations didn’t stop. “Please, please, ‘s too much,” you pleaded, clawing at your bedsheets as they just hooked their arm around your thigh and pulled you down back onto their face once more. It was practically like a scene from the Exorcist as you came again, your back arching off of the bed as you nearly let out a scream from all the pleasure. This time they slowly pulled away after you came down from your high, lapping at you one last time before pulling away and hovering over you. Your chest heaved as you did your best to catch your breath, smiling softly at the gentle kiss they placed onto you. You felt them snake their hand into yours, making you giggle as they wrapped their fingers in the spaces between your own. A smile curled onto their lips when they heard your laugh, growing even wider when you let out a moan as their free hand went back to your entrance. They still held your hand as they pulled back a little, your legs spreading more as you felt them running their tip along your slit.

At every swipe to your clit you let out a moan, gasping when they entered you. Within a second their lips were attacking your neck again, earning whines and moans from every bite, lick, and thrust that they tortured your body with. The pleasure was dizzying, you had never really gone so many rounds with someone before, the recovery time was practically nothing with how fast your climax was building up again. They were more gentle, their free hand roaming over the bralette you still had on, teasing your nipples over the fabric as they littered your skin in love bites. You were already regretting Tatum’s and Sidney’s teases about them tomorrow but for now, you accepted your fate.

Their pace was quick but managed to hit all your sweet spots, their hand that held yours was gripping you so tightly their knuckles turned white, which only brought you closer to the edge. Their free hand found its way to your clit again, rubbing it in time with their thrusts to completely overwhelm you. Your orgasm washed over you hard, the seconds felt like they lasted a lifetime as you did your best to come down from your high, but their continued sloppy thrusts didn’t help one bit. A loud whine left you as they came, biting into your neck to cover up their moan. They pulled out slowly, letting go of your hand and kissing you once again. Unlike the other ghostface, they laid down in the bed with you, pulling you against their chest. You accepted the invitation, resting against their chest and listening to their heartbeat as you recovered from your orgasm.

“Next time…do- uh,” you spoke softly, a bit shy to get your thoughts out into words. You felt their fingertips tracing your jaw, relaxing as their thumb ran over your lips. “Do you think the both of you could come by next time? You- uh, you don’t have to but…” you trailed off as they kissed you, feeling their head move in a nod. You smiled, heart fluttering with excitement knowing both of them would be alone with you. “And don’t forget the new lingerie set, please,” you requested with a little laugh. It was an hour later, ghostface gone and you freshly showered and dressed in your pajamas again.

Your phone rang, seeing Sidney’s caller id and answering quickly. “Hey, have you seen any of the police cars pass by?” She asked as you looked out your window, “no, how come?” You asked as Sidney sighed. “Oliver, the neighbors said they heard screaming and shit breaking and when police got there they said he was dead,” she said as you frowned. “Do they know if it was the killer?” You asked, “yeah, neighbors said they saw him running off. They tried going after them but they couldn’t catch up.” She told you, you sighing and shaking your head. “That’s so creepy…” you said, thinking back to the conversation you all were having earlier that day. You couldn’t help but wonder if ghostface was stalking you, if they already knew you and your past.

#poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #scream au #poly!ghostface x female reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream #scream1996 #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #poly!ghostface smut #smut #fluff #angst

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