#yes i’m whining no i don’t care i hate applying for jobs it just feels fucking pointless i’ve applied for a billion jobs

[murdercene]

i know i have to apply to at least eight jobs a month to stay in the unemployment services but since i don’t get unemployment money it’s just real hard to be motivated to do it lmao

#txt #like i have a job right now! yes it’s unpaid but i have a 40 hr a week job and i don’t pay rent at home and i have some money saved #and i need to get a job once my internship is finished but that’s at the end of june and after doing this (which is SO FUN) #i just dont want to start working at some boring warehouse i want to do creative stuff!!! #and i dont understand what benefits i get from being a part of the unemployment services get me if i don’t get paid lmao #plus i’m fucking tired after i come home after TEN HOURS (with work + travel) and it’s so fucking tiring to apply for jobs. #yes i’m whining no i don’t care i hate applying for jobs it just feels fucking pointless i’ve applied for a billion jobs #and no one has gotten back to me

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (1): Suspension (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro, 5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: One of your favourite students has been suspended for fighting, and Gojo has palmed off the meeting with his guardian to go through all of the paperwork and facts and conditions on you. “Don’t worry,” Gojo says. “It’ll be Megumi’s sister, she always takes care of this kind of stuff!”. Gojo is wrong.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. dom/sub dynamics, light fearplay and predator/prey elements. piv sex.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

“I’ve got all these other parents to deal with,” Gojo whines at you, pushing the papers into your hands. “And I hate paperwork, and I don’t have time to meet with Megumi’s family today – hell, if it were up to me, the kid wouldn’t even be suspended! Those guys had it coming!”

Gojo is not a very good teacher. Both of you know that – no matter how justified – violence never solves violence. Gojo, you think, would let these kids fight it out in an arena instead of solving things like an adult. You heave a large sigh as you look down at the papers detailing Megumi Fushiguro’s three-day suspension for fighting during school hours.

You’d seen Megumi before he’d gone home. He hadn’t had so much as a scratch on him; his face set in a frown, his arms crossed, his eyes downcast. You’d sighed at him and asked him if he was alright, and he’d shrugged.

He’s not a very talkative boy at the best of times, and you suppose that the suspension and the fight and the mini uproar it had caused in the school aren’t helping be any more verbose. You’d said goodbye to him and said that you hoped he thought about what had transpired today, your heart aching a little bit that you couldn’t be any more help to him.

You’d seen the three boys Megumi had got into a fight with, too. They had not gotten off so scot-free – they were bleeding noses, scraped cheeks, bruised eyes. At the very least, you don’t think any of them will get on Megumi’s wrong side again.

Gojo has to meet with all three of their parents tonight to give them the full story of why their children are so roughed up and what’s being done about it; a position that’s been doled out to him, you’re sure, because Principal Masamichi blames him for the incident and is punishing him. You can’t deny that seeing Gojo actually get punished for something is nice, but--

“Won’t they be mad to see me instead of you?” You ask him, biting your lip. “I mean . . . you’re his teacher. I’m just your aid.”

“Oh,” Gojo’s eyebrows rise behind his glasses. “No, it’ll be Megumi’s sister who’ll come, she’s a sweetheart! She’ll nod at you and say mournfully that she’ll talk to him and you’ll give her the paperwork, and that’s all – job done! Honestly, if I could palm this off on you and talk to Tsumiki instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat--”

“This is your job,” you tell him, exasperated, and he laughs wide and open. You’re not really supposed to get like this with him – if he were any other teacher, you’re sure that the exasperation and sighing and half-snapping you do would have had you thrown out of their class – but Gojo treats your irritation with him as if it’s the funniest thing that has ever happened. “You’re supposed to be good at dealing with this kind of thing!”

He shrugs.

“You’ll be fine!” He tells you, again. “Honestly, this isn’t the first time this has happened with Megumi and it won’t be the last. That kid’s got a right hook that could knock out an elephant!”

You do not ask him how he knows this. Asking too many questions of Gojo is always flirting with danger; you never know when his mouth will flash into a grin and you’ll suddenly be barraged with a flood of words and stories that don’t quite make sense and never seem to have a concrete end. But you can’t resist one last question – just in case it comes up. After all, it seems that Gojo has spoken to Tsumiki enough times for him to at least kind of know her--

“His sister?”

Gojo looks at you, and for a moment the shroud of capricious energy lifts from him, and he seems entirely serious. You’ve noticed this particular change in him only a few times – and often, those times have been about the more difficult backstories of students.

“His father isn’t around very often,” he says, eventually. “He’s some kind of something or other, Megumi never really says, but whatever he does, there’s a lot of travelling involved. Tsumiki’s his older sister – she’s twenty one, and she’s been more of a parent to him than it seems like his dad has.”

No wonder Megumi always seems suspicious and tired of Gojo. Something about his flighty nature probably strokes the back of Megumi’s psyche, where annoyances about an absent father are kept. You sigh, turning away and shaking your head to rid yourself of the idea of psychoanalysing the students.

“Alright,” you say wearily. “I’ll talk to Tsumiki.”

2.

You’re nervous as you set up for the meeting. You know Gojo had said that this would be easy, that Tsumiki was very sweet and would probably apologise to you for Megumi being a problem – but still! This is the first time you’ve ever met any of your students’ guardian figures in any capacity. You feel kind of bad that it had to be for this kind of news, actually – ordinarily, you like Megumi a lot. He’s very intense and serious and clever, and you think that he has a bright future ahead of him when the trials of being a twelve year old boy finally are over – but this meeting isn’t for saying things like that. This meeting is for giving details of the three day suspension that Megumi has gotten for – you check the paperwork again – fighting three boys by himself on one of the sports courts, making them bleed and . . . breaking one of their arms? No wonder Gojo had seemed so miserable at the thought of meeting with the victims’ parents.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, making sure that it still sits as neatly as you’d arranged it that morning. You check the clock to see you still have two minutes before anyone is due – you discreetly check your lipstick in a compact mirror (yesterday you’d had it on your teeth and you hadn’t realised until Mai had pointed it out with a laugh in her voice), smooth out your pencil skirt, tug at your stockings to make sure they’re pulled up and not wrinkling about your ankles . . .

And then, you wait.

The clock is straight across from you, so you’re able to see as Tsumiki is five minutes late, and then ten minutes late, and then fifteen. The tick-tock echoes in the room as your leg bounces against the floor, anxiety making you want to gnaw all of the carefully applied lipstick off of your mouth. From what Gojo had said, this doesn’t sound like Tsumiki at all – you’re just about to give up and pack all of your things away, figuring maybe she’d called into the office to say she couldn’t make it and telling you had been neglected, when the door slams open.

You rush to your feet, your sensible heels clacking on the ground.

“Miss Fushi--”

Your voice peters away.

The person stood in the doorway is, you’re certain, absolutely not Tsumiki Fushiguro.

For one thing, it’s a man. For another thing . . . well. You’re not entirely sure that a man with that expression on his face would ever be described to anyone as a ‘sweetheart’. Your frightened eyes linger on him for another moment, really taking in the broad shoulders and the muscles and the hair falling over his face, the dark, green eyes that are glaring at you like you’ve interrupted something very important. There’s a scar by his mouth that you also do your best not to stare at, just in the same way you avoid staring at how the form-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing clings to a muscled abdomen.

“It’s Mr, actually,” he says, which seems absurd in the face of him, standing there. He raises one eyebrow at you. “You were expecting my daughter, right?”

(You don’t know it, but Toji Fushiguro has gotten a read on you in less than a moment. He’s seen the wide eyes and the pretty mouth and the neatly appointed outfit, the pencil tucked behind your ear, the slightest tremble faced with his imposing presence – the fear as you’d seen the scar and the smoulder and the body. You’re adorable.)

“I . . . uuh--” Your cheeks are hot. You nod, weakly, and he walks into the room proper, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click. There’s danger in every one of this man’s movements, like a wolf who has finally cornered a little rabbit. You are feeling inexorably like prey, at this moment in time.

“I was expecting a man,” he says, shrugging. He sits at the chair in front of Gojo’s desk, pulled up just for him. He looks huge in the classroom; his shoulders too wide, his biceps bulging from the sleeve of the shirt. You don’t think this man was intending to be in a school classroom right now. “I guess you’re not Mr Gojo, huh? Gotta say,” he shoots you a grin that’s dangerous, everything about him is threatening. “I much prefer this development.”

“Oh,” you’re blustering, and it’s so cute. You sit back down in the chair with a quiet displacement of air, agitation in your fingers as you rake through the papers on the desk. Said desk is incredibly messy; Toji doesn’t think it’s yours. He ought to feel mad that they’ve palmed him off on some little assistant who’s probably not even fully qualified yet – instead, he’s watching your hands trembling and your teeth nibbling on your pretty mouth. “Y-yes, G-Gojo’s dealing with the parents of the other party--”

“My kid got into a fight, yeah?” He asks. “Decked ‘em pretty good, from what I heard.” You wince at his words, and that’s cute too.

“Megumi’s a good boy,” you say. “He’s just . . . got his own sense of justice, I think.” You look down at the papers, and your eyes seem to focus, back in a more comforting zone. “He’s been suspended for three days, and when he comes back, he’s on probation.”

“What’s that mean for him?” Toji asks, promptly, though something about the way he says it suggests to you he doesn’t really care. There’s a lightness, an airiness in his tone that sets you all off-kilter.

“It just means we’ll probably keep an especial eye on him. He’ll get a report that’ll need signing off on at the end of every period, someone will check up on it--” You see one of Gojo’s scrawled notes in the margin of the paperwork. You wince. “I’ll be in charge of it, actually. Making sure everyone’s happy with his behaviour for a few weeks--”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

The question makes you jump. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking up at him. You blink slowly.

“I—I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Mr Fushiguro,” you say, prim. That’s cute, too. He likes breaking prim and proper things like you. “I’m—I’m doing my training. I’m working as an aid here for a year, and then I’ll be qualified to be in charge of my own class.” There’s a hint of pride in your words, there.

“Toji,” he says. “That’s my name. You haven’t gotta call me ‘Mr Fushiguro’. I’m not tryna’ be pushy,” but he’s inched forward. His elbows are resting on Gojo’s desk, in front of you – he rests his chin on his folded hands, sharp eyes regarding you as if you’re something he wants to devour. “Y’just look tense.”

“This is the first time I’ve met a student’s parent,” you admit, though the minute it’s left your mouth you’re regretting it. Like you’re admitting to some kind of weakness. This close to him, you can see there’s a dark red stain on one of his wrists, like dried blood. Your stomach is tying itself in knots. It’s not helping that his forearms are so big, ridged with muscle.

“That so?” His eyes gleam. “What d’ya think of me?”

You don’t actually need to answer him. He can see it in the way your eyes keep nervously skimming over him. The way your lips are shining in the light. The bob of your throat as you swallow.

“Mr Fushiguro--”

“I told you to call me Toji,” his voice is almost mocking. You watch him lean over the table like you’re somewhere far away from the action – watch his hand reach out and cup your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek, like you’re a ghost in the corner of the room. His palms feel like they’re burning hot. “You’re tremblin’, little lamb.”

You had thought you’d felt like a rabbit – shy, ready to run at any moment. But the moment his hand is on you, you’re docile – too scared to scamper away. You suppose you are like a lamb, staring a wolf straight on in the face, too stupid or too pliant to use your common sense and run.

“I . . . I shouldn’t,” you say, voice trembling just as much as the rest of you. Toji’s smirk hasn’t left his face. You’re saying you shouldn’t, but he just bets if he reached further down and unbuttoned your blouse, your nipples would pebble for him – he just bets there’s a wet stain on your underwear, right now. He can always tell when someone’s turned on by the idea of playing with fire.

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a few weeks with you in charge of me,” he muses, and then chuckles humourlessly, correcting himself. “Sorry. Lemme rephrase that. I’d rather be in charge of you, but--”

Oh, he sees that. The little flash in your eyes, an imperceptible contract of your shoulders. If you weren’t behind the desk, he bets he’d have seen your thighs press together too. Girls like you are just so fucking predictable, and he loves it every single time. There’s just something that’s so much fun about breaking them – making them submit, admit that him being so close with the scent of something-that-might-be-death clinging to him turns them on like nothing else. Your attempts at being haughty and polite and proud have just made the stirring between his thighs harder to ignore. You’re such a cute, neat, demure little thing – by the end of this meeting, he’s going to have his way with you, you bet.

“M-Mr Fushiguro,” you say, trying to wrest back control of yourself – honestly, he’s pissed you aren’t listening to him, but the title’s kind of endearing. You’re trying so hard! Pity you’re going to lose all of your manners when you’re bent over this desk with his cock inside you. You haven’t even moved your face away from his hand. “I-I have to give you these papers.”

He stands up, pulling his own touch away from your cheek. Stretches. Your eyes are drawn to the brief expanse of his stomach, just above his trousers – the dark line of hair leading down to . . . Oh, God. You shouldn’t have thought about that. The grin on his face is cocky, and you know that he knows you were looking.

“I’m just gonna throw ‘em in the trash, sweetheart,” he says to you. “Now. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, yeah?” He steps closer to you. You totter to your feet, half-unsure, half driven by the low ache between your legs and the thrum of desire that’s been reverberating through you since the moment he’d carelessly thrown out how much happier he was to see you than Gojo. You have to tilt your head up a little when he comes closer. You’d thought you realised how massive he was when he’d walked through the door, but that’s nothing compared to how his size seems to dwarf you. Every unkind thought you’ve ever had about your body or your face seems to have gone out of the window as his heated green gaze hungrily drinks you in. You know it’s the stare of some predator who’s going to devour you, and you still feel transformed. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand idly comes to the top of your blouse buttons, a finger brushing the place in your throat where your pulse is beating its unsteady rhythm.

“Whaddya say, little lamb?” He grins down at you. “Gonna let yourself be caught by the big bad wolf?”

You’re supposed to be telling this man about his son’s misbehaviour, giving him all of the paperwork that Gojo had thrust at you, getting him to say he’ll talk to his kid and try and make sure that it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t be tipping your head back further, letting his fingertips lodge dangerously in the hollow of your throat, flirting with the place where your windpipe is. You shouldn’t be breathing out, all of your pretty prissiness and good morals and pride disappearing where you stand in the face of one of your students’ really hot dad.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And Toji wastes no time.

3.

He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning your blouse; just drags his hand down, and the buttons pop off, scattering on the floor. You gasp at the show of strength, and Toji is still grinning, clearly enjoying that you’re admiring him. His hand pulls at the fabric, until your breasts are fair falling out of it, the blouse wrestles off your skin.

“You’re wearin’ something like this at work?” He asks you, giving a tug to the gore of your bra. You hadn’t done enough washing this week, and the one you’re wearing is all filmy white lace. “Almost like you knew I was comin’ huh?” His grin is crooked. You tremble as you reach behind you, undoing the clasp – and for that, you get a murmur of ‘good girl’ that has your knees turning to jelly.

He whistles as the bra drops from you, his gaze admiring. He takes in the spill of your breasts, the little peaks of your nipples. He takes handfuls of them, squeezing them in his big hands, his fingertips digging in so painfully you can imagine that you’ll have bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow. The idea doesn’t disgust you.

He lowers his head to kiss you. He’s not gentle with you for a moment – his teeth immediately nip at your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily like you’re the first taste of sugar for a man who’s lived on nothing but bread for months. His tongue licks at your lips, begging entrance – dancing against your own when you helplessly open those same lips, demanding in the exact same way Toji is.

He pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in how quickly the bud hardens. He rolls it between them, toying with it, enjoying the soft noises you make that get caught in his mouth. If he wasn’t kissing you, he thinks, you’d be bleating like a lamb right now. Huffing and whimpering. When he finally gets his cock in you, he’ll have to remember to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t attract too much attention.

Your other nipple is given the same treatment, hot lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheting from the touch of Toji’s calloused fingers to the spot between your legs. You’re grateful for how solid Toji is – if he were any less so, you’re sure you’d be buckling over where you stand.

He pulls back with a final, marking nip to your lower lip, almost hard enough to make you bleed. You whine, and a dark chuckle spills out of his lips in response.

“Toji,” you whimper as he pulls away. You miss the feel of his body pressed against yours like a physical ache. His hands encircle your thighs, pushing you up onto the edge of Gojo’s desk, clever fingers already pushing your tight pencil skirt up so it’s bunched around your waist.

He kind of misses ‘Mr Fushiguro’ now it’s gone, but the sight of your stockings digging into your thighs soon chases the thought from his mind. He guesses your skirt is more than long and tight enough to make sure nobody gets a glimpse, but oh . . . that you’d be walking around all day, like that, with nobody to fuck you silly--

He can’t help but let his hands knead the soft skin, the flesh, his thumbs imprinting so hard in the plush that you squirm. He’s pressing your thighs apart, now – revealing the modest underwear, the soaking wet patch where he can see the outline of your plump labia lips.

With your legs spread, he can smell how turned on you are. Oh, yeah – he knows your type, alright.

“Ain’t you cute?” He says, chuckling. “You really want me to do you over this desk?”

“You can’t leave me like this--” Your voice is reedy, breathy, almost petulant – at another time, he’d make you beg for it. He’d take his time over you. But although the idea of being caught fucking the cute little teacher’s aid is briefly appealing, he doesn’t really want to make a whole load of trouble for himself when his cock is practically begging to be sheathed inside your wet holes. “Please--”

It’s the please that does it. It’s always the ‘please’ that does it for Toji. He chuckles, smirks, crooked grin – all of it feels like it’s mixing together in your mind, your throat very dry as nothing seems to matter right now except the fact that your sex is practically pulsing with how empty it is, and you think that the hot hard stiffness pressing against your thighs would really help alleviate some of that.

“Aww,” he says, fiddling with his zip and underwear, grabbing his cock and giving it a cursory pump just so you can admire the sheer size of him. “Don’t worry, little lamb. I’ll give ya what you need.”

He gets what he wants. Your eyes, as big and dark as the eyes of a doe – the soft choke of breath as you get to see the size of it, so big his own fingertips don’t quite meet. It’s the kind of cock that could ruin you for somebody else – and you’ve had sex before, of course, but you’ve never taken anything quite like that--

“That’s cute,” Toji murmurs, pressing forward, nestling his slick cock-head between your soaking wet thighs. “Wish you could have seen what a picture your face made just then. Afraid I’m gonna tear you in two?”

He might – he might, you think. But you pout at him and Toji’s cock throbs, as he glides the slick glans through the mess of your arousal, wetting himself even further. Your breath hitches, your hips doing a cute little jerk as it brushes your swollen clit. He can’t help himself but swirl the head over it some more, making your breath catch and whine, bleating like a little lamb--

He sinks his hips forward, and your fingers flex on the edge of the desk, knuckles white, at the relentless sear of his cock driving you open. You feel so stretched out, and he’s barely a third of the way in – he can’t help but watch your expression. He always likes to see someone the first time they’re impaled on his cock – the glassy eyes, slack jaw, the pleasure-cum-pain in their faces. He wants to take a picture of you and keep it in his wallet so he can pump one out to the sight of you when he’s on business trips and too busy to go out and find himself a hole to fuck.

“How’s that feel?” He asks you, so soft and low that you barely catch it. Another slow inch. He lets you feel every ridge, every vein, every bump of his shaft. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“F-full—” you gasp.

“I bet,” Toji replies – and then, he bottoms out inside you. His eyes look down to where the two of you are joined; the slick fluid leaking out of you, all heat and needy. “You fit me like a glove.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, at the lewd way he’s looking at your spread open cunt – the way your hole is fluttering around him, the peeking pearl of your clit. He’s studying you like he wants to learn you by heart.

“Head’s up,” he says. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, and ask him what he’s doing right at that moment if he hasn’t started fucking you yet – but then, he’s dragged almost the entire length of his cock out of you in one savage thrust and is immediately spearing it back into you, his pace brutal. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back hitting the solid, flat surface of Gojo’s desk so that you’re flat out with your thighs wrapped around Toji’s hips.

If he weren’t so entranced by the feel of your walls fluttering around him, trying to suck him in further and deeper, so tight that you’re basically a vice, he’d grab you by your hair and force you to stay seated whilst he fucked you. But right now, you feel so good that all he can think about is his own release. The wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you, the squelch of your arousal and slick making every pump easier and easier. You feel so good. You’re tighter than he even imagined you could be, so good that he kind of wants to take you home and have you take up permanent residence in his bed.

You’re moaning, your back arching with every one of his thrusts – taking it admirably. There’s pain in your moans, yes – he supposes he could have prepared you better, had you come on his fingers a couple of times, if time were not of the essence – but they’re the pained moans of someone who likes to be hurt a little bit.

With every rock of his cock inside of you, he hits some new spot that you’ve never had stoked before, makes the heat and need inside of you swim just a little bit closer to the forefront. You don’t even notice you’re moaning and whining until a big hand slaps over your mouth, rough, hot palm against your lips, smearing your lipstick.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet,” Toji says to you, through those savage thrusts of his cock inside of you. “You don’t want your . . . your fuckin’ . . . anyone walkin’ in on you being railed by your student’s dad, do you?” You shake your head, but he feels the throb of your cunt around his cock, the way your walls contract, and he adds it to the store of things he’s learning about you. Always the quiet ones, right? Always the proper ones who look as though they’ve never even seen a cock--

The feel of him inside you is absolutely dizzying, so much and so full that you can no longer think. His cock batters against a certain place in your channel, a textured wall – and before you know it, everything is going dizzy and black and white like exploding fireworks, your chest bursting into heat, your inner walls getting so tight around Toji as you come that he thinks you’ll be the one to fucking break him.

Oh, you’re adorable, creaming on his cock – the slick gush of your arousal around him, the dreamy cast in your eye, the fact he can feel you drooling against his palm. He increases the speed of his own thrusts, chasing his release through the weak aftershocks and smaller pulses of you around him, through the over-sensitive squirming of your cute little cunt, the fact that tears are pooling in your eyes at how much everything is suddenly feeling--

He groans and the hand still clinging to your thigh is suddenly pressing so hard you think he’ll snap your bone, ragged breath;

“Fu—fuuuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna take it all, that’s right, good girl--” in between belaboured, ragged pumps, his cock twitching as he manages to pull out at the last moment and his release spills all over your thighs, luridly glistening wet in the overhead fluorescent lights.

That’s another moment he’d take a picture of, if he could.

He’s not the kind of man who waits around. He gives himself ten seconds, to catch his breath, to admire your plush thighs painted with his come, before he’s tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping zippers and doing buttons. He shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a second – double checking he’s left nothing of his in the classroom.

Yep. All clear.

He turns to leave, air of cocky confidence back – you only just see the shifting muscles in his back as he turns to go, leaving you where you are. You’re lucky he’s so tall, or you’d probably barely have seen him in front of the door frame (you didn’t even lock the door, anyone could have walked in at any time! You don’t even want to know what Gojo would say if he’d walked in to his aid being fucked like a slut across his desk).

“W-wait,” you say, weakly, still sprawled over the desk with his come cooling on your thighs. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, but your entire body feels like it’s just taken a battering. He takes a look back at you from the door, dragging a big hand through his hair, his crooked grin still on his face. You look so pretty like that – all fucked out and messy, the shine taken off of you. “T-the paperwork--”

You’re not sure where said paperwork is. Underneath you, maybe? You hope it didn’t get soaked.

“Told ya’,” he says, dismissively. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Thanks for the fun, sweetheart. See y’around, huh? I should do stuff for the kid’s academic career more often.”

The door slams shut behind him.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you #not sfw #writing #jjk teacher aid au #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk writing tag

[taestefully-in-luv]

I know your requests are closed but in case you reopening them, can you do Taehyung + #11 from Part I prompts pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺

Prompt: “Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex

A/N: This request was supposed to be one of the lasts but I got inspired for this prompt hehe so enjoy! Sorry it’s a little longer than the others!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung drops his suitcase to the floor, exhaling a deep, frustrated breath as he eyes the room.

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?” he huffs out, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. “I already have to go on this fucking trip with you, then we have to share a room…and now there is only one fucking bed. Of course.” He complains with a dark expression with a harsh blush on his cheeks. You don’t notice though.

You feel your own anger bubble over but you decide to laugh. Yes, you laugh because this whole situation is one cruel joke from the universe. This earns a look of disapproval from Taehyung. He shakes his head at you as you continue to chuckle, you not totally or completely caring about his judgements. You would be in this complete shit show with none other than Kim Taehyung. Your nemesis.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He states and you give him a pointed look.

“What couch? Taehyung look at this piece of shit room. We only have the bed and a chair.” You point out knowingly, “You can sleep on the floor though.”

“Like hell I am sleeping on the god damn floor.” He is pissed you would even suggest such a thing. “I’ll sleep on one end and you on the other.”

“Afraid I have cooties?” you ask with a smirk and he rolls his eyes at you, quite hard.

“Something like that.” He spits out, grabbing his suit case off the floor and setting it on the bed. “I’ll shower first.” He unzips his luggage and pulls out some of his belongings.

“Fine.”

You and Taehyung have been working together post college, you knew him in university though…quite well. You two were always in ongoing competitions in your classes—and you shared a lot of classes. You and he never quite got along, you two always finding something to argue about instead.

Then you both happened to apply to the same job and both got accepted…only furthering your ongoing competition of one upping another. You try to stay out of his hair though…you are aware you two don’t get along well….too much tension. And you are an adult now with an adult job that you take seriously, so you try to avoid Taehyung.

Unfortunately, your boss paired you two together for an overnight trip, and your company didn’t have the budget for two rooms—just the one. Taehyung offered to pay for another room but apparently the hotel only has the one, so here you two are with one room and one bed.

You place your own luggage on the bed and begin taking out your bed time clothes, your shampoo, your conditioner and your body wash. It’s been like, 30 minutes and he still in the bathroom. You sit on the bed and wait patiently, scrolling through your phone and mindlessly watching YouTube videos when finally Taehyung exits the bathroom.

You don’t even look at him as you stand from the bed with your things, you turn to head towards the bathroom, walking through the small room. Really your company couldn’t do better than this?

“There better be hot water, Taehyung.” You throw the comment over your shoulder and you hear Taehyung snicker from behind you.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

You force yourself to take a nice, deep breath trying to calm your nerves. Kim Taehyung is always trying to get on them any way he can. While you try to ignore him, he always makes his presence known.

“You’re such a child. I feel bad for you girlfriend.” You close the bathroom door with a little bit of force.

Your shower was…not freezing, at least. But you prefer it a bit on the warmer side. You clean the fogged up mirror with a towel and take a good look at yourself. You look tired, just plain tired. You dry off completely and slip on your panties and a bralette, they’re cute and comfortable.

You’re about to pull your t shirt over when you catch something in the corner of your eye. A mother fucking roach. You feel your whole body crawling with them as you stare at the one bug. You yelp out, throwing your t shirt over the bug…this causes Taehyung to rush to the bathroom door and ask what’s wrong over and over.

“y/n??? Hey, you okay???” his panicked voice goes unnoticed by you as you back into the bathroom door. “Unlock the door!” he begins rattling the doorknob, trying to get it open.

You finally notice the door shaking, and his stressed voice on the other side. Without thinking you hurry to unlock the door and open it. Taehyung’s eyes expand at least 4 times their size as he eyes you. You’re basically naked!

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Taehyung stutters as he speaks, his eyes raking your half naked body.

“Roach! Roach!” you yell, pointing at the direction of your t shirt. “He’s there! He’s under my shirt!!!” you can’t help but walk impossibly close to Taehyung, grabbing a hold of his bicep with one arm while your other points down across the bathroom.

Taehyung feels himself freeze under your touch, your small hand trying to wrap itself around his arm. He tries to pull himself together though, slowly pulling your hand away from him.

“It’s under your shirt?” he asks quietly. “Why the fuck would you throw your shirt over it?” He can’t help the amused smile that paints itself on his face.

Taehyung walks towards the shirt and slowly lifts it up, his eyebrows begin climbing to the top of his forehead as he notices no sign of any roach.

“Uh oh.” He says calmly.

“Uh oh, what?” You walk closer to him, staying behind him as your arms go to grab both of his arms. “What?” You whine.

“It’s gone.” He says, then he shakes the T shirt around, but no bug falls out. Then he’s turning around to face you and his face goes unbelievably red.

“Here, put this one.” He throws the shirt at you and you jump back, your face gone pale.

“As if I am wearing that now!” you say as your voice cracks. You pinch your brows together as you think of what to do. “I don’t have any other shirts…” you pout and Taehyung looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Just wear the god damn shirt, y/n.”

“No….” you frown at him and he almost feels bad for you. “I don’t want to sleep with the shirt a bug just touched.

“You are so ridiculous.” He scoffs, “I have an extra t shirt…although I don’t know which shirt you would avoid mo—”

“I’ll take the shirt!” you cut him off with an excited smile and he raises a brow at you.

“Really?” he walks past you in the bathroom, his shoulder bumping yours and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Well…it’s almost on the same level as the bug shirt but yeah, I’ll take it,” you lightly tease.

“Fine. But also can you please, I mean, please put some pants on…” Taehyung walks into the room, takes out his luggage and pulls out an extra shirt. You follow him in the room and catch the shirt when he throws it over to you.

“Thanks…” You mumble. You begin to pull it over your head, sniffing it as you do so. It smells like him. Something soft, yet deep. A scent you can’t find anywhere else.

“Let’s just try to sleep now.” Taehyung pulls back the covers and slips inside the bed. You on the other hand look at him like he is crazy.

“You think I can fall asleep with a roach on the loose?” you whisper shout, like as if the bug might hear you.

“You’ll have to try.” He mumbles lamely.

You huff out a short puff of air as you walk closer to the bed. Fine, you will try to fucking sleep. You pull back your side of the covers and get into the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket close to your face. You turn on your side, your back facing Taehyung and hide your nose and chin inside the t shirt. You feel yourself getting lost in its scent.

Maybe 20 minutes or so passes when you notice how restless Taehyung is…he keeps moving around, sighing out and lightly groaning. You are having a hard time falling asleep too but jeez, he is fucking dramatic. You decide to make conversation even though he will probably tell you to fuck off.

“Thanks for saving me earlier.” You whisper, turning yourself to lay on your other side, facing Taehyung.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He says instead of ‘you’re welcome’.

“What?”

“Earlier you said you feel bad for my girlfriend.” He turns on his side to face you, “But I don’t have one? So, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Aren’t you dating that girl you are always with? You guys are always at the coffee maker, giggling and shit.”

“Wait…Pauline?” he starts chuckling. “She’s cool. We have a lot in common…like, girls.” He continues to laugh as you get the hint.

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at the ceiling. “Well, even if it’s not her, I’m sure you have someone.”

“Why are you so concerned with my dating life?” Taehyung scoots a little closer to you. “You hate me. So why do you care?”

“You are the one who hates me. Not the other way around.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you before he starts shaking his head over and over. He slowly closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“No. You hate me.” He says matter of fact. “I don’t hate you.”

“You so do hate me!”

“Well, I only hate you because you hate me!”

“But I don’t hate you!” You begin to sit up in bed, the blankets falling down your body. “You are annoying, yes. But I don’t hate you.”

Taehyung sits up in bed as well, he crosses his arms over his chest and exhales a deep breath.

“So you don’t hate me? I don’t hate you? Then why are we always fighting?”

“I don’t know, we have been fighting since college…I don’t know what else to do with all this energy I have for you.” You admit.

“Energy?” Taehyung tilts his head, “You mean, the tension?”

“Yeah.” You gulp. “The tension. This tension means we fight, right?”

“Well, what else could it mean?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you sit here…you know exactly what I could mean but you aren’t about to admit that right now. Taehyung has to know too, right? He isn’t that dumb is he?

“y/n…” he says your name differently than he has ever said it…like as if he had practiced to say it that way and he finally got to say it out loud. The softness in his voice is mesmerizing, his usual bite gone altogether.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss—”

“Yes.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at how quickly you respond, his mouths fall open and his heart starts racing. He really though you hated him…he really thought he had no chance…he really thought that hating you back was the only way for you two to have any sort of relationship.

“Be honest with me.” He begins, scooting even closer to you. “Have you thought about me before? Kissing you?...Touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how it started.” He grows warmer just talking to you like this. “Please.” His deep voice somehow goes lower with every word he speaks to you.

“Back in college…” You gulp, “You and I had a group presentation…I wanted to be in charge. But you kept talking over me—”

“Sorry…”

“I went home that night so angry, that the only thing that could calm me was to touch myself. And your stupid face is all I could think of.”

“Was that the only time you touched yourself thinking about me?” Taehyung’s hand crawls up your arm, until his hand is at your jaw.

“No.” you admit, your breathing becomes unsteady. “That was just the first.”

Taehyung’s thumb brushes against your cheek and you feel yourself grow impatient. You want him to kiss you. You want him to touch you. Years and years of pent up frustrations—

“When was the last time—”

“Shower.” You rush to say. “My mind was going crazy at the thought of sharing a bed with you.”

Taehyung smirks at you, his long fingers still at your jaw, he tightens his hold and he begins leaning into your space.

“Do you want me y/n?”

You feel your entire body shiver, you feel goosebumps rise on your skin and you feel the heat creep all over your body.

“Yes Taehyung.”

His lips crash into yours, they move against you with rushed desperation. Your hands immediately go to his hair, tugging on the strands, somehow pulling him even closer to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your poor, weak body as his hands explore you. They start at your jaw but are soon traveling down your body. He cups your breasts in his hands, you groan when he squeezes them. Then you feel his fingertips graze down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Can we take these off?” Taehyung asks between kisses. “Please.”

“But you practically begged for me to put them on earlier.” You smirk as you kiss him back with passion.

“And I’ll beg for you to take them off.” He smiles in your kiss and you can’t help but roll your hips to his little idea.

“C’mere.” He guides you by the hips to straddle his lap. Your legs on either side of his as you start moving your hips back and forth, you can feel his member growing beneath you with every roll of your hips.

“Take it out on me.” He says between his erratic breaths. “How angry I have made you. I want you to take it out on me.”

“Okay.” You agree easily, your hand going to his throat. You squeeze lightly as you start riding his clothed dick. You grind into him, hard and fast. He meets you half way, thrusting up, his hard member rubbing against your clit so deliciously.

You look down at him, your eyes meeting his when he smirks at you. God, he looks so good like this. He’s totally fucked out, sweat dribbling down the side of his forehead, his tongue continuously darting out to wet to puffy lips.

“I need you.” You pant out, “Right now.”

Taehyung nods his head in understanding. He stops his hips from moving, lifts you up slightly as you both work on dragging his shorts and briefs down. His cock bounces off his lower abdomen in freedom, his swollen member leaking with precum. You rush to take your shorts and panties off and go back to his lap.

“Condom?” He asks, out of breath.

“Are you clean? I’m on birth control…plus, I’m clean.” You say quickly, the anticipation killing you.

“Yes, I’m all good.” He grabs his cock in his hand and starts pumping himself. “Now, please.” He whines.

You nod, hovering over his length, replacing his hand with yours as you take a deep breath before you are sinking down onto it. You whimper at the feeling since he is so big. He’s long, he’s thick and he is destroying you just by entering you.

“You okay?” His hand goes to cup your jaw and you try to nod your head. “Take your time.”

“You’re so fucking big…” you sink lower and lower, his cock filling you to the brim. “But it feels so good.” You say between rough breaths.

“You feel incredible, y/n….” his hands goes to your hips and he begins to help raise you up, you lift yourself off his length and slam back down. You are finally getting adjusted to his size that you’re able to rise and fall on his cock over and over.

Taehyung’s hands go to your ass cheeks, he squeezes them as he helps you rise and sink on his cock, your thighs burning as you ride him faster and faster. Your hand finds its way back to his throat and you push him back on the bed. He lays down as you ride him, his moans and your moans filling in the small space of the room.

“Fuck…so tight.” He slams his eyes shut as you make him feel so fucking good. “y/n…y/n…” He starts chanting your name.

“Help me…” you fall forward, your chest hovering over his as you start kissing him. Your tongue pushes past his lips and he tangles his tongue with yours immediately. Taehyung begins thrusting forward from beneath you. He fucks into you so hard and so fast that your vision starts to blur. He is hitting your spot with every brush of his dick and it just intensifies when you feel his fingers on your clit.

“I’m gonna come Taehyung…” you warn him, your erratic breathing hitting his face. “So fucking close…please don’t stop.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you, he fucks you harder now. The sounds of his skin slapping your skin making this sound all the more filthy. He moans over and over because he is also so close.

“Where should I come?” He pants out, “Tell me now!” his body begins to tense as you reach back and fondle his balls. “Oh fuck!!” he screams, “y/n! y/n!”

“Inside me.” You lean down and kiss the side of his neck.

Taehyung thrusts so fucking quickly before he is stilling his desperate hips and shooting his cum inside you. His eyes shoot open as he comes, his body wanting to give out on him but he endures. He squeezes his eyes shut as he starts fucking you harder again, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves. Your high pitched moans making Taehyung feel high as fuck. You finally yell out, whimpering in his ear as you come undone all over his cock, creaming it and soaking it. You feel your orgasm hit you so fucking hard that you collapse on top of Taehyung’s body. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, your sweaty bodies mingling together.

“Wow.” You say, out of breath.

“Yeah, wow.”

Taehyung slowly slips his softening member out of you and winces, the feeling alone so overwhelming. He rolls your bodies over until you are both on your sides facing one another, he smiles at you and you feel yourself go shy.

“Just to be clear…you don’t hate me, right?” You ask.

“Does it look like I hate you?” he teases, reaching out and putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think we have a lot of years to make up for.”

“I don’t want this to be just about sex.” You say quietly. Taehyung’s eyes go wide at your words before he is smiling for you again.

“That wasn’t my intention.” He admits, “Maybe a date first?”

“Or a few.” You joke.

“We have years to make up for y/n, so it’ll be more than just a few dates.” He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“Are you still going to be annoying at work?” you stick your tongue out, Taehyung rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“It’s just healthy competition” he leans forward and kisses your lips this time. “And if I make you mad you can always just…take it out on me…” another kiss.

“You should make me mad more often then.”

"You mean even more mad?" He laughs.

"Yes."

#ask game #prompts #bts #bts fluff #bts smut #kim taehyung #Taehyung x reader #Taehyung fluff #Taehyung smut

[raggaraddy]

Idk of I/someone else has already asked this but how would the yanderes react to having a mute s/o

Mute

A/N: Hi Hi. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! 💜💜💜

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, abuse, unhealthy relationships, blood drinking, descriptions of medical care.

Line: Mini-Rap Line (Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin)

Alpha! Namjoon

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Namjoon asks, trying to mask the genuine irritation in his voice.

It's been 8 days and you haven't said a word to him. Now, if you weren't talking at all that would be one thing, but you were specifically not talking to him, and would talk to other people with no problem. Trying to make it as pointedly obvious as possible that you were avoiding him and him alone.

The blatant disrespect of this was driving him mad. But he had never set a rule that directly stated that you have to talk to him or reply to him, and he knew that you would only fight it further if he instituted the edict now.

For you though, you were having the time of your life making him suffer. It was rare for you to have so much control between the two of you, and you were abusing it to the fullest. Especially given the reason this all started.

A week ago you were whining because he wouldn't let you go to the town fair without him. An unreasonable decision he made. Because as you tried to point out, you were going to be surrounded by the pack anyhow, and the excuse he gave for not going was a very unnecessary border run that anyone else could do in his place. While he wants to deny it, you know the real cause for his refusal though. It's because you sounded too excited about seeing your new friend at the fate and he was jealous. Even though she was another girl, for whom you had no romantic feelings, he was still jealous. And petty. You could see it in the way he mentioned her name or his face when you spoke about her.

But even with all that, it was his injustice that really made you snap. The exact words he said to you as you tried to reason your point, were; If you're going pout I don't want to hear another word from you. Basically, he told you to shut up just because he couldn't come up with any valid rebuttals and he didn't want to lose. So fine, if he wanted to be a dick, you were going to simply take his own instruction and hyperbolize it.

And his frustration was worth every moment of silence.

While he was hoping not to further blow this out of proportion, Namjoon was trying to break your silence by being strict towards all your other undesirable behaviour. Disciplining you for each and every rule you broke. Hoping to wear you down, or at the very least provoke you into another argument so that he could claim victory.

He was giving you time outs, taking away your electronics, making you hold quarters to the wall, refusing you junk food and sweets, making you stay by his side the entire day and so on. Fully running through all of his most infuriating and childish punishments. But no matter what he did, you remained defiant. And he was at the end of his rope.

Sitting in the kitchen, you were talking with the Gamma and two other wolves during a patrol break. As Namjoon was putting lunch together, you were happily observing his clenched jaw. However, the aggravation their Alpha was exuding was putting the wolves on edge and they were trying to include him in any way they could. Asking his opinion on topics as trivial as shoes, in the hopes to offset the irreverence you were showing.

When they asked him which of two brands he prefered, you interrupted, sick of their transparent attempts.

"No one cares what he has to say." You snip turning your back to him. For the first time in days, you were referring to him, and all the attitude you had stored up was pouring out in those words. You didn't take a second to think about what you were really saying though.

With an almighty crash, Namjoon smacks his hand into the benchtop, catching the side of the plate causing it to shatter. All three wolves and you jump. Quickly the words replay in your head as you see their wide-eyed gawking. Then the realization hits, you were safe being underspokenly disrespectful, but being outrightly so... he had rules set about that, and now you'd just given him the right to punish you in the way he had been itching to.

Grabbing your arm before you can protest he drags you upstairs to your shared bedroom. With weak shoves and refusals, you stay determined not to utter a single word. But as Namjoon pulls onto the bed, dragging you over his lap, as he lifts up your dress and tears down your underwear, you recognise that it's not time to play anymore.

Ignoring your shouts, your foul language, and eventually your cries for him to stop, he holds you down and smacks your ass raw. After about 20 minutes and once he's reduced you to tears, he finally lets up.

"Apologize," he demands. Still crying, you're too out of breath to reply at once, and that pause costs you. His hand comes down on your bruised ass again making you scream. Your cries turning into whimpered hiccuped apologies as you cling to the tear-soaked duvet.

Satisfied with your change in attitude, Namjoon at last stops. Not letting you run away like you want though, instead he has you straddle his lap, his legs carefully spread so your bruised butt doesn't have to sit on anything.

"Do you understand why I did that Y/n?" He asks softly pulling you into his chest. His hand running over your back.

You know why he did it, but you're too bitter to answer him and can only muster a grunt.

"Still not speaking to me, huh?" He smiles knowing he has already won whether you wanted to admit it or not, "Because if you're going to continue being disrespectful, I don't care if your ass is still glowing, I will bring you back up here."

You can only grunt again. Hating him, while you nevertheless cuddle in closer not wanting him to stop comforting you. He chuckles feeling your energy. Fiddling with your clothes and hair to realign and neaten them.

"Beautiful," he purrs in your ear, "If it really means that much to you, I will have someone cover me this Friday so I can take you to the fair." He consigns, kissing your forehead. You finally look up to him, head tilted and mouth slightly open. "Do you want that?"

Looking down and away, you're pouting a little but you push the word out. "Yes,"

"Okay, I will. But you have to be on your best behaviour from now until then." Namjoon winks.

You lost, but you still got what you wanted in the end. So maybe you can chalk this up to a draw. And at the very least you've found a way to get what you want in the future. So maybe that can be considered a win.

Assassin! Yoongi

Because of your disrespectful outburst, Yoongi had told you that you were not allowed to speak until he says. So far you were 4 weeks into your 5 week deadline.

Initially, it was an unyielding torment to have to be silent. A few times you had slipped up and spoken. Each and every time, Yoongi was quick to respond. He would lock you downstairs for as many days as words you spoke. Luckily, the most you said at one time was 5 words. And he still fed you while you were down there. So while it was horrible, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

Steadily though, you found it became easier. While you weren't allowed to speak, you still needed to be able to communicate with Yoongi, so he allowed you to nod and shake your head, and smile. It was restrictive, but strangely enough, you found it becoming comfortable. Because you couldn't speak Yoongi expected less from you. You didn't have to search for words when he spoke to you in an attempt to make him happy and overall, it made your interactions less stressful.

With you not speaking, he was speaking less also. So for the past few days, you have been enjoying a wordless dialogue that you and Yoongi were having. And at this point, you were feeling more relaxed and not missing talking at all.

Although waking up this morning you came downstairs to a horrible sight, that made you wish you could scream.

Yoongi was collapsed on the floor. Stretched out on the kitchen tiles in a puddle of his own blood. Covered in bruises and cuts. His torn up T-shirt soaked in blood.

3 nights ago he had left for a job. With the ease between the two of you, Yoongi didn't lock you up when he left, although he didn't downrightly state that as the reason. He must have come home sometime last night, but clearly, you didn't hear him.

Rushing to his side, you're looking down his unconscious battered form with no idea what to do. This is nothing you know how to deal with.

With how long you have been without speaking it feels wrong, unnatural even when you think about doing it now. And you can't bring yourself to release a single word. So you do what you can to try and get his attention, and to wake him up. You shove him, clap over his head. Lastly and desperately smacking his face a few times, sighing in relief as it pulls him back to consciousness.

Groaning, his eyes look to be spinning from light-headedness. Stiffly he tries to get himself upright against the wall. Seeing his intent you help him. Pulling him, you slip a little in the puddle of blood. Your hands and feet are already covered in it. Your limbs trembling as you hold your hands away from your body. Looking down at him with pleading eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Medic kit," he breathes, each puff heavy and wheezed.

You nod, spreading a trail of blood through the house to his bedroom. Collecting the duffle bag in his closet that is filled with a surgeries worth of supplies and running back downstairs, you drop the bag at his side, unzipping it for him.

While you were gone he's torn his ripped shirt off. Among the cuts and scars that already litter his pale chest, he has a deep long cut that runs diagonally down his torso. It looks like basic first aid was already applied, blood-drenched gauze stuck on the worst and deepest parts of it.

"I'm gonna talk you through this," he pants, with a struggled smirk, "Maybe wash your hands first, cause if I die of infection, I'll be pissed." His playful banter feels so out of place, not just for the scene but for him. Although, you're not going to question how he wants to deal with a life-threatening injury, and the ridiculousness of you being the one that needs to help him. If he wants to joke to cope, fine.

Nodding and wide-eyed through the whole run-down, it takes everything you have, but you stay calm and stop yourself from crying.

Thankfully time has seemed to stop the bleeding. As you remove the bandages the lacerations have somewhat clotted. Going step by step, you follow Yoongi's every word. First, you clean the area with a bucket of water and a cloth. Then apply an antibiotic ointment, that smells really gross. Washing your hands once again, you lower beside him, and realize you've only just gotten to the worst of it.

While the bleeding has stopped the cuts above his belly button and his hip are deep enough, the fat is exposed.

"You gonna be able to do this?" Yoongi asks as you hold the needle and thread with a tremble in your hands that is painfully obvious.

You nod, taking a deep breath. But even after 3 more of them, your exhales are still coming out shaky. You are in desperate need to calm down and your sure he can't get mad at you in this circumstance, so you're going to try what you've seen on T.V. Standing, you rummage through the cupboards and pull down a bottle of whisky from the top shelf. Watching Yoongi closely as you open the cork, giving him the chance to stop you. But he doesn't so you gulp down a few mouthfuls, shivering as the taste flows down your chest.

You're not sure if it helped your hands, but you feel a little better. So that's enough.

Returning to his side, slowly Yoongi talks you through suturing the openings. A traumatic experience you hope to never repeat. The sensation of the needing pushing through the layers of skin will surely never leave your head though.

During the stitching, you were surprised that Yoongi didn't flinch or react in any way. You're unsure if it was because the area was numb or because he was restraining himself to not freak you out. But in any case, you were grateful.

After everything and nearly 2 hours, you finally move onto bandaging.

Both of you are now able to slump back, thoroughly exhausted. For the longest time after the final step, neither of you move. You're still horrified, leaning against the wall looking over the armature medical aid you've given Yoongi's chest. Almost feeling a sense of pride through the unrelenting urge to vomit.

"You know," Yoongi grunts, shuffling back, lifting only his head to rest against the same wall. "If you wanna finish early and talk now, I think you've earned it." He chortles dryly, with a straight line smile.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist, you laugh uncomfortably. Honestly, after this, you'll be happy to have the next week without speaking.

Vampire! Hoseok

You couldn't take much more of this.

It was endless and he was ruthless.

Night after night Hoseok was coming to you. Drinking from you, hurting you in so many ways, and leaving you. If you were lucky, he'd remember to feed you his blood before he left. If not, he'd let you remain broken, making you suffer through the day.

With everything that you had to endure, you were tired of being tired. Exhausted of being exhausted. Scared and sad all the time, and hating a life from which you had no means of escape. But even with all of this, you were still holding out hope that there had to be some way to lessen your suffering. You had to believe that if you wanted to keep your sanity. You just had to figure out what he wanted.

So far you had seen no depth to him. All you had learnt was that he enjoyed your misery too much. It was like a game to him. Every sound you made, every cry, every time you begged or screamed at him, or fought him, it would only encourage him. He was trying to coax a reaction, to draw out your fear. And with no other form of control, you wanted to see what would happen if you took that away from him.

You theorized that if you did he would get more vicious, but then he would get bored. Best case scenario; he would let you go. Worst case; he would kill you. And somewhere in the middle; he would keep you only for your blood. But any of these were better than the hell you were living in now.

So partly with a plan in mind, and partly out of sheer exhausted terror, you stopped speaking. It was going to be impossible to stop all sounds. There was no way you could stop yourself from screaming or crying or reacting, but you could control the words that came out of your mouth.

And for over 2 weeks now, you haven't uttered a single word.

With the sun high in the sky and being ready to sleep, you come back to your room, jolting as you open the door. Seeing Hoseok sitting on the bed.

In an unnatural flash, he's behind you, goosebumps prickling on the back of your neck. Grabbing a chunk of your hair he jerks and twists you, moving you to face him. His other hand comes up pressing his fingers into your cheeks harshly enough to make your mouth open. Keeping your jaw spread, he moves and tugs your head inspecting inside at all angles.

"Hmm, I was just checking if I cut your tongue out and forgot. But it's there." he uses his hold on your face to throw you back. Crashing you to the floor. "So you're choosing not to speak to me." He chuckles eerily.

As soon as you hit the floor, you scramble to your feet. Struggling to do so with an injured leg, but knowing it's safer to not let yourself remain on the ground or he'll most likely stomp on you.

You croak quickly silence yourself, forcing yourself to not speak and maintain your desperate strategy. Bracing yourself instead like you're facing a wild animal.

He marches forward, grabbing the arm you hold out. You'd rather he break your limbs than your organs. But he uses the arm to yank you forward, his right fist hooking broadly, your head snapping to the side, blood flying from your mouth. "Still not going to speak baby?" He yanks you back, hitting you in the exact same way. And a third time, your mouth gushing blood inside and out. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" He laughs switching his target, this time aiming at your torso. Each time dragging you back into place so he can properly hit you again.

Smacking the back of his hand into your head, he lets your fly into the floor this time. Clicking his tongue as he squats, hovering over you. "Baby, it's not as fun when you're not begging me to stop," he says icily. "Maybe I'm not hurting you enough."

Finally, he's giving you the assurance that you were right. Which means just like you thought, he's threatening to become more vicious. So you can endure that, or you can try something extra and see what happens when you outrightly give him everything he already takes.

Gently and so very carefully you lift your arm to his chest, gradually and painfully getting yourself onto your knees. Watching you do so with such difficulty and while you're trying to maintain eye contact with him, Hoseok is too amused to interrupt you.

With the taste of blood flowing from your mouth, you lean in nervously, expecting at any moment to have your body broken in two. Your heart thumps enough to hurt as you lightly kiss him. Leaving a stamp of your blood on his lips. Too scared to even blink as you monitor him. With a curious expression in his eye, he licks lips clean, a trace of a smile raising the corners of his mouth.

Not receiving a negative reaction you continue. Hoisting yourself up again you begin to kiss him slowly, your tongue flicking his lips encouraging him to open his mouth. Deepening the kiss the moment he does. Kissing your blood between the two of you.

Your hands are shaking, your legs are trembling, and you feel sick with fear, but he seems to be stable. And it seems to be working. As tenderly as you kiss him, he is kissing you back the same.

After several minutes and as the pain of holding yourself up gets to be too much, you lower down, terrified that any movement could evoke a change in his response. Keeping your eyes fixed on him, you tie your hair back into a messy bun.

The smirk on Hoseok's face is fully grown as he watches you with complete intrigue. You've never been the one to initiate anything and he is beguiled by your actions.

Coming back to the same height you don't return to kissing him, instead you press your chest to his, clinging one hand into his shirt to keep you balanced, and the other wrapping around his neck to bring his mouth down to your shoulder. It's a wordless invitation that he accepts eagerly, sinking his fangs into the slope of your neck. Too sore and tired to cry out, you can only pant through the bite.

As he drinks, your hands drop and his tighten around you to keep you up. But the second he's done, he releases you and lets you fall to the carpet.

Your eyes open as you hear the bedroom door. However, you see Hoseok stall. Pursing his lips while looking over his shoulder at you. To your surprise, he turns back and in a delicate manner you did not think possible from him, he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed.

Tilting your head up, he presses his lips to yours and your first thought is one of dread. Assuming that he's not finished and he only came back to have sex with you, thinking how much it's going to hurt in your condition.

Pushing his tongue into your mouth you can feel right away that the blood pouring into your mouth is not yours but his. His tongue lapping yours, feeding you his blood the same way you did to him. Healing you in a way he never has before.

Steadily you can feel all your cuts and breaks startling to heal. Clarity returning to your sight and your breath again flowing easily. As your energy returns you begin to reciprocate the kiss. Both out of a feeling of success and clinging on to the taste of his blood, which has come to trigger a feeling of relief within you. Having attached the flavour with the sensation of having your pain taken away.

Abruptly, Hoseok pulls away, getting up without another word or look. Leaving you alone, laying in shock.

It was a reaction unlike any you had expected, but for the very first time, he was damn near humane. So you would have to try that again and see if lightning strikes twice.

Playboy! Jimin

"Ta-da" Jimin bursts into the bedroom with a small black paper bag in his hand and a massive smile on his face. He jumps on the corner of the bed snatching the remote from you and turning the tv off with a click over his shoulder. "Look, Angel." He hands it over, putting the gift in your lap.

Looking down at it, you sigh internally, leaning back you choose to pointedly ignore it. Resting your head against the headboard, you close your eyes.

Lifting the bag by the handles Jimin swings it between his fingers over your head trying to place it in your eye line. "Look, your favourite." He shakes the brand in your face, the joy in his eyes gently fading into guilt.

For 5 days now, you had been stuck in bed. During an argument about your job, Jimin was once again trying to convince you to quit. His points were the same as always. That you didn't need a job because he could pay for you. That you lived with him, and he would buy you heaven and earth. He meant it in a sweet romantic way, but you couldn't help but take it in a 1910 housewife kind of way. You knew that mostly the reason he wanted you out of work was that he was very greedy with you and hated you being around other people. He didn't like that you weren't there to keep him company and entertain him at all times.

Honestly, those 8 hours out of the house, even though you were down to 3 days a week, were so revitalizing. Jimin could be a lot of work. And he was getting more and more controlling about who you saw and when you could see them. Apart from work, it had been 3 months since he last let you go out or see any of your friends by yourself. And you were fighting to hold onto this last little bit of freedom.

However, you will admit in the attempt at making your point solid, you said something incredibly stupid. He said he paid for everything, and you said you needed your own money in case you ever wanted to leave him. And he took that about as well as you'd expect.

"Come on, this isn't fair." Jimin pouts. "I said I'm sorry."

What really wasn't fair was that he hit you, kicked you, and screamed at you. Demanding you apologize and promise to never leave him. But you were coughing up blood, too dazed to even comprehend his words at the time. And when you didn't answer he growled you can't leave if you can't walk as he threw you down the stairs.

It's only by a miracle that you weren't injured as permanently as he intended, but still, he had done plenty of harm. Your ribs and stomach were black and purple. Your face was cut up with your lips split and your jaw swollen. Your arm and hip were also deeply bruised and sore. But with all of this, you truly have no idea the full extent of the damage because Jimin refuses to let you go to the hospital.

So, due to your injuries and your own principles, you hadn't spoken to Jimin since you woke up.

The first day he was remorseful and apologetic. He pleaded and begged for you to forgive him. He tried to hold you and love you and take care of you, but despite the pain and the fact that you really couldn't take care of yourself, you refused him at every turn. On the second day, he was already becoming annoyed that you wouldn't let him near you and kept ignoring him, and on the third day, he yelled at you for being difficult, trying to put the blame for his reaction on you. Yesterday, when he saw that gaslighting you wasn't getting him what he wanted, he went back to being sweet and doting, having had better luck with guilting you in the past.

This means today when his presents don't earn him your forgiveness, he should be right on track to getting pissy again.

He pulls a small box out of the bag, flicking it open. "Ta-da," he smiles. Only to be met once more with your active avoidance. "Look," he whines holding the ring box up but your eyes are closed. "Y/n look!" He barks.

You're not going to, though. He always does this. Buys you something to resolve his guilt. And if for even a moment you express gratitude or pleasure in it, he takes it as complete forgiveness. Then when you haven't actually absolved him, he accuses you of being difficult or a spoiled bitch. Even ignoring him you know he's going to make a problem of that too, but at least this way he will have to keep suffering in his shame.

During the last few days, you've been thinking hard about why you're with Jimin. For a moment, you even thought about packing your things in the middle of the night and leaving him. Moving back in with your old housemate, returning to full-time work and picking up your life where you left it. But thinking that, even with everything bad Jimin can do, it hurt your heart.

He's yours. And out of all of the people in the world, you're his.

Really there weren't too many times that he freaked. And he only did it because he loved you too much, or because you said something cruel like you did this time. No, most of the time he was so sweet. He listened to you, and he really cared about everything you had to say. Even the smallest problems he wanted to help with. He was normally so kind and gentle and he treated you like a princess.

No matter how hard you looked you would never find anyone who treated you like Jimin did.

So even when he lost his temper, you knew you just needed to hold out, because soon everything would return to regular.

This time he just overdid it. And that's why you were punishing him by not speaking to him. Because you knew it was important to stand up for yourself.

There's a flurry of sudden movement and a hefty bang across the room. Your eyes jumping open, Jimin has thrown the ring and the box into the wall. His frustration exploding in a rampage as he attacks your makeup table. Sweeping everything off it, stomping on anything fragile that hits the floor. Throwing the table over he hurls it into the wall, finishing it off by booting his shoe into the mirror over and over until it cracks.

Turning back to you, his hands curled up by his side, it's unnervingly apparent that he is fighting to restrain himself. Even now, as you lay in bed broken, in his rage he is still considering hitting you again.

But you're pretty sure he won't.

Jimin has just never been good at dealing with consequences and he is worse at dealing with the guilt that comes because of his actions. Without you pardoning him, he's going mental. Which is good, because that means he's learning.

"Whatever," he yells, "just fucking forget it." Barging out of the room he slams the door ferociously behind him.

He may be acting harsh, but you know that more than likely he will be going out to replace everything he just damaged. And he'll buy you something even better than a ring to say he's sorry.

And as long as he doesn't hit you again, you'll know that he really is sorry and in a couple more days when your mouth is healed, you will be able to forgive him. Then the two of you can move on from this and it will be as perfect as it can be.

#bts fan fiction #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #yandere #bts yandere #bts jimin #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #min yoongi #bts yoongi #jung hoseok #j hope bts #bts hoesok #bts requests #bts scenarios #namjoon #hoseok #yandere jimin #yandere yoongi #yandere namjoon #yandere jhope

[kerie-prince]

the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!

warnings: language

summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with

a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao

(gif source)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.

On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.

Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.

“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”

The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.

Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.

“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.

“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”

“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.

“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.

“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.

“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’

You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

‘No problem, anything for a friend’

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.

The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.

The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.

Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.

Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.

Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.

“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”

You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…

You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.

You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.

You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”

He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.

The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”

“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.

Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.

He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?

No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.

Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.

When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.

If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.

“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.

“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.

Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.

The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.

Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.

And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?

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The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?

One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.

The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.

Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?

On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”

You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.

“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.

“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.

“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Is he going to…

“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.

You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.

You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.

Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.

Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.

Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.

When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”

“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.

The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.

There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.

After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.

“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.

On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.

“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.

“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.

You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.

“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.

“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.

You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.

—

requests open!

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #requested #requests open #peter parker au #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #spider man imagine #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #spider man fluff #spider man smut

[buckyownsmylife]

Replaying - Jake Gyllenhaal/Reader (ft. Tom Holland) smut

The one where you share a night with Jake after Tom admits one of his kinks to you.

Warnings: cuckoldery, reader doesn’t think jake would respect her lack of consent, but she doesn’t actually safeword, so kinda dubcon?, you decide, definitely rough, use of the word whore, forced orgasms at some point, talk of anal

A/N: this is an one-shot depicting what happened between the reader and Jake like she told Tom about in in my fic “Do it”. I’d been meaning to write it ever since that first one came out, but a request gave me the push I needed to actually get this out. I’m very proud of this one.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

My heart was pounding against my chest as I made my way to Jake’s front door, hesitation for a bit before knocking. You’re doing this for Tom, you reminded yourself. He wants this. You’re not doing anything wrong. 

And as much as I kept repeating that to myself, those few seconds that took before Jake welcomed me into his home made me second guess everything, from what I was wearing to the strength of my relationship with my boyfriend. 

And God, I hated it. I hated it because I loved Tom, with every fiber of my being. I would never cheat on him, and I would never come close to doing anything like this if it weren’t for his admission of his own desires.

But now that it was here, out in the open, and *I was here, naked under Jake’s burning stare, I couldn’t deny that I wanted this. Fuck, I wanted this. And I was terrified of this feeling, terrified of what it could mean for my future with Tom.

I was going to do this, though. There was no doubt about it.

I thought Jake would try to ease me into this, offer me a glass of wine to settle my nerves or whatever, but the second his eyes met mine after they ran over my body, he pounced. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

I moaned against his mouth as he dragged me through his house, his hands making quick work of my dress before manhandling me over his shoulder. The pure show of strength and animalistic behavior was enough to have me creaming my pants, and he must have noticed, if his chuckle was any indication.

“You’re such a horny little girl, aren’t you, sweetheart? There’s no way Tom knows how to treat you the way that you need to be treated. But that’s alright. I’m here now, and I’m gonna take good care of you.” As soon as he had me on the bed, he was all over me again, sucking bruises and leaving bite marks all over my skin. It was clear that he was the possessive type, and the fact that I was actually Tom’s didn’t really mean anything to him.

Little by little, he sucked a trail of lovebites from my neck, to my stomach, going over my chest, until he reached my underwear, where he finally stopped to look up at me. “I can’t wait to taste this little pussy.” In a second, I was completely nude before his eyes, and he rose to his feet to stare down at me, most likely reveling in the marks he had left me with.

The intensity of his gaze was so powerful that it intimidated me, forcing me to remember just exactly what I was doing, instead of simply losing myself in the moment, like I’d managed to do when I actually had his touch on me. So before I could even realize it, I was covering myself up, crossing my legs so he couldn’t really see the parts of me that he was interested in right now.

I don’t think Jake liked that. He raised an eyebrow, a hand covering the enormous bulge that had me salivating, probably in an effort to get some relief to his hardness, before he threatened, “Be a good girl and spread your legs for me, or you won’t like what I’ll do next. Tom has spoken so highly of you, I don’t think you want to disappoint me.”

I hesitated for a bit, but something in his eyes warned me not to get on his bad side. However, it seemed like I wasn’t quick enough to satisfy his wishes, because he pulled me by ankle to the edge of the bed, before turning me around until my head was hanging off of it.

“Fine. I know you want to be fucked like a whore anyway.” Without any sort of prelude whatsoever, he grabbed my cheeks, burying his fingers in the flesh to force me to pucker my lips, before feeding me his cock with his other hand. “Here, suck on this. I really want to hear you gagging around my cock.”

And that was all the preamble I got before he suffocated me with his dick, cutting off my breathing as he thrusted roughly in and out of my throat, directly. In no time at all, I was a mess of tears and spit, and while I was sure that the image couldn’t be all that attractive, still Jake didn’t seem to mind at all.

Jake’s P.O.V.

I don’t think I’d ever been this hard in my entire life. It meant that I was barely hanging on to my already diminished control, but who could really blame me when I had this fucking woman for me to do as I pleased?

When I finally pulled away to let her catch her breath, she coughed and sputtered desperately, hands trying to hold my hips so I would give her more time to breathe. “Please,” she babbled, voice hoarse and fucked out, immediately provoking a smug smirk to rise on my lips. “Please, be more gentle.”

I had to coo at how cute she was. Holding her hair back so I could run a single finger across her face, I buried it on her lips like I’d done with my cock before leaning over to remind her, “You’re mine tonight, princess. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you.” And then I pried her lips open, spitting in them before filling her mouth with my cock once more.

“Damn, all those times I thought about bending you over a table and fucking you right in front of your boyfriend, I have to say… I’m not even in your pussy yet and you’re already much better than I imagined.” I thrust in and out of her mouth a couple more times, relishing in the choking and the tears until I could feel my balls threatening to release inside of her warm mouth, and that simply wouldn’t do. The only place I’d be cumming tonight would be inside of her pussy.

So I allowed her some time to recollect as I slowly rounded the bed until I was standing in front of her pussy. “You know, you had a much harder time taking my cock in your mouth than I expected you to. I didn’t take Tom for having such a tiny cock.”

Even if I was exaggerating, I could see by the guilty look on her face that he was significantly smaller than me. It only added up to make me feel even hornier, that much more determined to give her the pounding of a lifetime.

“You did a good job sucking my cock, sweetheart. Now let me see this pussy.” Kneeling in front of my bed, I pulled her by her ankle so her legs were dangling off of it before I positioned her feet on the mattress, spreading her open to me. “Fuck yes. This is a pretty pussy.”

I was almost clinical in my exploration of her hole, starting by slowly running my fingers up and down her lips, making sure to spread her juices all over them before spitting on her cunt and spreading that all over the perfect sight. 

“Hmm, yes… You look delicious.” I leaned down to give both me and her a little teasing taste by very quickly running my tongue on her clit, but immediately had to come back for seconds.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Damn, you’re sweet.” I didn’t know what to do, it was impossible to figure out a way to behave properly while Jake fucking Gyllenhaal was lapping my pussy like it was his last meal on Earth. Every moan that escaped my lips felt like a betrayal to Tom, even though it didn’t make any sense.

“Stop that.” The man that right now seemed more animal than human called my attention with a loud slap over my weeping cunt, breaking the dam with which I had tried to contain my sounds of pleasure. “I want to know just how thoroughly I’m ruining you.”

I’d never make it out of here alive, I thought. At the very least, I knew I wouldn’t leave this bedroom the same woman I’d been once I stepped inside of it, but instead of fear, all I felt was the familiar rising wave of pleasure and the unknown curiosity of knowing more about this new version of me. The one that knew what it felt like to be touched by my boyfriend’s best friend.

A single finger penetrated me, the same systematic approach of exploration was applied as Jake slowly and carefully got to know my insides, looking for what made me tick and what helped him in his task to destroy me. When I clenched around his digit, I felt his grin against my pussy, his smugness at having found that sweet spot that was once only reserved for Tom and Tom only.

“Wanna see you cum now, pretty baby,” he teased, the vibrations of his words only adding to the efficacy of his plan. “Cum all over my fingers, angel. Want to see you breaking apart for me.”

The use of such sweet nicknames when I already knew he was nothing but a rough lover only added to the fire that had been lit in the pit of my stomach. The feeling of being powerless, abandoned in the hands of a man who didn’t seem to know mercy was what brought me to my first orgasm of the night. Flashbacks to just how out of breath I’d been only minutes before, the panic when I realized he wouldn’t pull back. For a moment,  I honestly didn’t know if he would respect my use of the safeword he and Tom had agreed upon beforehand, and that was the thought that brought me to a messy, relieving release.

“There you go. So sweet and wet, you dirty, dirty girl.” I knew I tried to respond and it only came out in some sort of broken sound, but I didn’t recognize it as a whine until I felt another slap over my pussy, startling me.

“Don’t whine,” he ordered, and I could see that dangerous glint in his eye that electrified to my very core. “Whiny babies get punished, angel. Do you want to be punished?” As much as the very thought of what Jake could have in store for me had my pussy clenching, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it, at least not tonight, not after the amount of anticipation that I’d built even before I walked into his house.

Jake’s P.O.V.

I smiled as she shook her head emphatically, arms and legs wrapping around my body as she tried to cling to me, stopping me from performing what she thought I intended to do. “No, no, please. I-I need you.”

Shit. Hearing her admit her desire for me had my cock twitching, precum undoubtedly starting to drip from the throbbing head. Still, I had enough control left in me to remember that I needed to prepare her first. I needed her to be ready for me, so I could truly give her the pleasure that she deserved.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” I forced another finger inside of her, groaning to myself at just how tight she felt, wanting to stretch her open with my cock, feel her struggling to take it, but knowing it wouldn’t be right. She hadn’t agreed to be mine, she wasn’t prepared to deal with everything I was as a lover.

“I need to open you up for me, yeah?” I was breathing hard, trying to restrain myself as I watched her pussy swallow my fingers eagerly, releasing more and more of her sweetness to help ease the stretch. “Have to make you cum again, baby. Can you do that for me?”

The sight of her shaking her head had anger rousing inside of me. Here I was struggling to make this easy on her, and she just couldn’t help me on that gradually more and more herculean task.

“Oh, but you are going to do just that. And you’re going to like it, *angel.” Deciding that the best way to get through this torture was to get her to cum quickly, with the added bonus that it would serve as a punishment too, I started to fuck her with my fingers faster and faster, making sure to curve my digits just right so I would hit that particular spot every damn time.

“Yes, see? This is what you get for misbehaving. You’re gonna cum all over my fingers, and you’re gonna pay for each damn time you made me want to have my cock inside this pretty little pussy and had to resort to fuck some other woman instead. “C’mon. You can’t pretend you don’t want to cum and keep moaning like a whore. Cum right now,” I urged her orgasm until I felt it, her channel clenching around my fingers and making me groan again.

I didn’t stop moving them though, instead opting to squeeze a third one, so I could finally have my cock inside of her in only a few seconds. “P-Please,” she started begging, tiny hands circling my wrist in an effort to pry me away from her, and I had to coo at how adorable she was.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can handle one more. C’mon. It’ll be so worth it when I finally get my cock inside of you. I’m only doing this to help open you up, baby.” She was sobbing now, pretty body twisting and trying to get away from the pleasure that was clearly becoming too much for her.

Leaning down to cover her body with mine, I nibbled on her jaw before licking her slightly open lips. “Kiss me, Y/N. It’ll help distract you. Kiss me.” I probably didn’t need to repeat it, because as soon as I finished breathing out the words, her lips were on mine, hands losing themselves in my locks in an effort to leave me be inside of her pussy.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I immersed myself in his kiss, desperate to find something to distract me from the incessant dragging of his fingers against my walls, the squelching sounds of my sopping wetness simultaneously embarrassing and arousing me. Damn him and his sexual appeal. It didn’t take him long at all to have me trembling because of his three fingers, desperate to cum yet again.

“See? I knew you could handle it.” There was a smug smirk on his face that I wanted to wipe, but the only way I could do that now was by kissing him again. I had no idea how he knew my body that well, despite never having touched it again. Not even I believed I was able to cum another time, and still, here I was eager to finally have his member inside of me.

At long last, his fingers came out, being promptly wrapped by his beautiful lips before he looked down at me with that same stupid smirk. “Are you ready, pretty girl?” I could only nod, watching enraptured as he slowly jerked off to the sight of my already ruined body, but I should have known that wouldn’t be enough.

“Say it,” he ordered, knowing fully well exactly how wrecked I was. “Say you want my cock inside of your pretty little pussy.” I stopped a whine just before it managed to erupt from my chest, panting wildly as I stared up at this dark angel that looked so determined to destroy me for anyone else.

“I want you inside of me,” I murmured, instantly knowing it still wouldn’t be enough. He was rubbing the head of his member over my dripping lower lips, and at the sound of my compliance, a slap echoed around the room, leaving my thigh tingling - surely with a hand-shaped bruise behind.

“Louder.” My cunted pulsed with the need to be filled, so much so that it didn’t take any time at all to get me to repeat the same words I’d just uttered, in a louder, much more desperate tone. My reward was immediate. Jake filled me slowly but surely, only stopping once he had completely bottomed out inside of me, and I had to focus on my own breathing or I was sure I’d forget to inhale and exhale as I struggled to accept his cock in my already stretched out hole. 

He was right. I would never have been able to take his cock if he hadn’t taken the time to ease me, opening me up with his fingers. The comparison was *right there, it was impossible to ignore. Still, I tried to distract myself, focusing instead on the feeling of Jake’s beard as he nibbled on my jaw, waiting for me to adjust to him.

“So many times you teased me, with those short pretty dresses and cute little smiles, and now I finally have you right here where I want you.” He hid his head on the crook of my neck, just the way Tom usually did, and instinctively, I laced my fingers over some of his locks, just like I usually did with my boyfriend. “You know what, angel? I think I might just keep you.”

I couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, and I knew it wouldn’t do me any good either. There was some comfort in thinking that he only wanted me for my body, that’s what I knew and that’s what I wanted to focus on.

At the first snap of his hips, a whimper escaped my lips, still unable to relax so it wouldn’t hurt. Jake only chuckled, brushing away a few strands of untamed hair that covered my face before kissing my lips briefly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck the pain away, you’ll see.”

Regardless of the discomfort, I savored each and every thrust of his member inside my walls, holding tightly to his shoulders as I prayed - for what, I had no idea. I wanted this to be over just as much as I wanted to cherish every second of it, if only for the memories I’d get to recount to my boyfriend when it was all over.

Almost as if he was reading my mind, Jake spoke on that moment, “Wouldn’t it be hot if Tom was here to watch me fucking you?” That was a thought my brain could process, and it made me come that much closer to cumming all around Jake’s cock. “I bet you wanted him to be here, so he could see just how good I’m fucking you.”

A particular thrust of his hips had him finally hitting that spot that had me melting underneath him, releasing his shoulder in order to find hold in the tangled sheets of the bed. “God, I can’t believe he’d let you out of his sight for only a second, much less that he let me fuck you.”

His words were only murmurs pressed against my skin, accompanied by licks and bites all over the already bruised skin of my chest, but I heard every single word, questioning just how much kinker this man could get.

“I’d make you beg for my cock right in front of him, baby. I’d make you cry for it while he was watching, make you forget you even belong to him.” There was a pause then, when he finally looked up from my glistening skin, covered in his saliva, to meet my eyes. “I’m gonna do that now.” 

That was his warning as he picked up the pace, keeping eye contact that I desperately wanted to break, but found myself unable to. He was like a force field in himself. Magnetic, inescapable. When he said he would ruin my innocence for Tom, I had no doubts about it.

Each thrust of his hips revealed parts of myself I was unaware of before, parts I was unsure I wanted to recognize as being mine, anyway. And in the midst of this tug of war between head and heart, I was growing more desperate to cum with each passing second, suffocated by the weight of Jake’s body on top of me, his muscles locking me under his control.

When it was impossible to hold it in anymore, I expected to be able to bring him down into the depths of pleasure with me, but I should have known better. While I reveled in the aftershocks of yet another orgasm, body laying heavy and without response on the bed, he just groaned and kept fucking me, like he was would never be able to forgive himself if he wasn’t able to keep going.

“Swear to God… I’ve never had a better pussy in my entire life.” The filthiness of his words surprisingly added to the sensations of my own afterglow, making my pussy even wetter - and I knew he could feel it, especially by the growl that escaped his chest. “Yeah, you like knowing that, huh? You like knowing I’ve fucked a shit ton of women and still your pussy is the tightest, wettest, warmest pussy I’ve ever had.”

I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel as aroused by him comparing me to other women, or the thought of him with other women, but I did. Maybe it was because he wasn’t mine, and I knew he never would be. I was okay with that - Tom was all I wanted. But knowing that the memories of what we shared would haunt him way after he was thorough with me gave me some spiteful sense of pride, and I just couldn’t deny it.

“What about me, huh? What about my cock? Do you like it? Do you like the way it’s splitting you open, making you cream around me? Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

Jake’s P.O.V.

I could see that the overstimulation was getting to her now, and she relented, telling me exactly what I longed to hear, probably in need to distract herself from how raw her pussy was feeling now.

“I-It feels s-so good…” I had to bite back a grin at the admission, knowing how much it cost her to let it out, but also aware that she needed to completely let go in order to fully enjoy this the way that she deserved to.

“Are you gonna tell him? How it felt to have my big cock inside of you? Are you gonna think about it while you fuck him?” The thought of Tom had her moaning more loudly, more easily close to letting go of the control she still held so tightly to her chest.

“Come here, sweetheart. I think it’s time you ride me.” I inverted our positions so that she was the one on top now, letting my body rest on the headboard so I could still keep a tight grip on her hips.

I was so fucking close, I craved to reach my high and I knew that she was aware of it. It was clear in the way I couldn’t let her do her job, instead fucking myself up against her, desperate to cum. And the sight of her breasts right in front of me only added to the fire in my lower belly, growls and groans escaping me the more I forced her to quicken her movements.

“I’m going to give you something…” I started right when I felt that delicious sensation taking over my body, spreading through every single part of me. “A gift so you can give to Tom.”

I could see that she was puzzled, but right then my orgasm hit me, making me spill ropes upon ropes of cum into her tight, delicious pussy. Surprisingly, the feeling had her sighing and curling up against me, like she knew that this meant we were through, and she could finally relax.

I chuckled, squeezing her ass as I milked my own orgasm, making sure every single drop was inside of her, before slapping one of the cheeks. “Keep it in,” I ordered, and I knew she was aware of what I was talking about. “He’ll love it. Just like you loved to take me in your pretty little hole. Didn’t you?”

Instead of answering, she just hid her head in the crook of my neck, making me chuckle loudly. How adorable. I’d just fucked her silly, and she still felt embarrassed about something so natural.

In the quiet of night, as I waited for both of our breathing patterns to come back to normal, I absentmindedly traced shapes against her back, thinking about how in a few minutes she’d be out the door and back in her boyfriend’s arms and I would go to sleep alone. Like I always did. And because my mind knew well enough that I wouldn’t handle being vulnerable in front of her, my hand ended up between the cheeks of her ass, right where I hadn’t had the chance to explore.

“Tell me, beautiful,” I broke the silence, kissing her shoulder to relax her when her muscles tensed after I circled her puckered hole. “Did he ever fuck this ass? I bet I could fill this little hole real good, too.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Just the thought of having him like that had me clenching around his member again. It wasn’t necessarily a scary thought - I was more afraid of how arousing the mental image got me, especially since I hadn’t had the chance to explore that with Tom just yet.

Before I had the chance to explain there was no way in hell I’d be losing my ass virginity to him, he laughed, slapping my butt lightly again, before clarifying, “Don’t worry, angel. I’m not going to overstep my welcome. Besides, it’d take too much time to get my dick inside of you, I’d never be able to stop myself from cumming too soon.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I opted to just nod before I managed to slowly gather my strength to finally climb down from his lap. I bit my lip to stifle the groan that threatened to erupt from my chest at the feeling of being so empty after being so thoroughly fucked, but the second I was away from him, his hand fell down on my ass once more, his face taken by a boyish grin when I turned around to stare at him.

“Maybe next time.” It took me a while to understand he was still referring to anal sex, and when I did, I felt my face burn at all the implications of that statement. “I trust you’ll think of me if you and Tom ever decide to open the relationship to embrace someone else in the mix.”

Now that was unexpected, and yet again, there was nothing I could say, so I just silently gathered my stuff - annoyingly conscious of the little souvenir he’d left me to carry with me back to the house - while he located some sweatpants and followed me downstairs. 

“Bye.” It felt weird saying just that to wrap up everything that had happened between us ever since I stepped foot into this house, only a few hours earlier, but what else was there to say? Of course, Jake had a different opinion, and that became clear with the parting words he left me to ponder as I sat alone, sore and dirty on the taxi ride back to my house.

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Rest assured, everytime your eye meets mine while we’re out in public, I’ll be thinking about how it felt to be balls deep into you. I hope you’ll be thinking about me too. Maybe then you won’t tease me so much.”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #smut #jake gyllenhaal #my fics #my requests #jake gyllenhaal fic #jake gyllenhaal fics #jake gyllenhaal reader #jake gyllenhaal reader insert #jake gyllenhaal reader inserts #jake gyllenhaal x reader

[lavenderwhore444]

WAIT DO U WRITE FOR SUB SHIGARAKI??

YES YES I DO I LOVE HIM SM

I would die for him 😐

Every kink ever has started out with “only for Shiggy though, ” and then “only for him and Dabi, ” and lastly “god damn it why do I like this shit, ”

Like I would never eat ass....however if he (or dabi 😳) asked....how could I say no? (spoiler I wouldn't say no)

I fully support #pegshiggy2021

First of all I've had more than one person try to fight me on Shiggy’s mommy kink so it's time to put an end to the argument once and for all.....

but first

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

InteractiveFics

Master List

here's the song guys :)

TOMURA SHIGARAKI HAS A MOMMY KINK OK WHEN HE NUTS HES WHINING FOR MOMMY TO CUM WITH HIM AND ILL DIE ON THIS HILL

But let's dive into this a little. In the manga, Tomura obviously has a good relationship with his mom, hugging her, allowing her to care for his skin condition, etc. when AFO came into his life (This is an AFO hate club. He's a mfing bitch and a groomer), he took place as Tomura’s father figure. You could argue that Kurogiri is a mother figure, but he's not really the caring “come here baby, it's ok to cry.” type.

Incel Shigaraki thinks his gf is obligated to take care of him, and normal Shig wants someone tender to take care of him, but he feels like he's not good enough and lashes out but feels really bad. Please love him. Incel shiggy just calls you mommy on the regular no shame, don't talk back to him. He expects you to cook and clean for him and doesn't want to lift a finger during sex.

Normal Tomura treasures you. You're precious (even if he doesn’t show it. or acts like he feels the opposite way abt you). You take care of him willingly, so when the first sleepy “thank you mommy” comes out, it just gets lewder from there. Shigaraki isn't an angel (morally. Other than that, he is an angel). He knows it's one of the weirder kinks, but he doesn't care. Not when you're into it too. THIS IS NOT AN INCEST KINK SHIGGY DOESNT THINK OF HIS ACTUAL MOM DURING SEX EEEWWWWW. It just feels right; it's more of a title like sir or ma’am but loving, caring, not the harsh dominance that's usually associated with those titles. And he loves being your baby mommy’s baby. He's so used to being big and scary. But he's sooooo happy that when he comes home, mommy will be there waiting with some snacks, willing to listen to him vent, cuddle, etc.,

And then he yells it while he's filling you to the brim 😌 now, you're mommy all the time, even in bed.

Ok, enough of that, let's have some smut.

“Shhh, honey, just lay down on the bed for me, ”

Body worshipping wasn't something Tomura was accustomed to. He was stiff and visibly nervous. You warmed up the lotion in your hand and began to rub his back. He had picked out the lotion himself, choosing it because “it reminded me of you, mommy.” God, he's fucking precious.

After the lotion was mostly rubbed in, you began to massage his tense shoulders, watching them relax.

“That's my good boy, ” you cooed, “my pretty boy, ”

His cheeks were bright pink, and he pressed his head into the pillow to hide it.

“Ah ah ah, ” you chided, “let me see your pretty face, ”

He shook his head as best he could while still hiding in the pillow.

You sighed, “let mommy see your face, honey. Show me how pretty my sweet boy is, ”

He looked up at you from where he was lying, a timid smile playing on his face. Despite constantly putting himself down, he did love when you complimented him. When mommy complimented him.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, rubbing his back again. He was still lying on his stomach, naked except for the boxers he was wearing, but those would come off. If he was good for you.

He had a habit of lashing out, especially when he was vulnerable like this, and you worked to correct him. He knows that you'll only make him feel good if he's a good boy. Mommy’s good boy

You added more lotion, straddling his lower back and applying the lotion down the backs of his arms.

“You look so pretty, sweetie. Such a good boy, you're behaving so well today, Tomu. Tell mommy what's making you so happy, ” you praised.

“I'm happy because you agreed to try the...y’know...thing. I didn't think you'd want to, ” Shigaraki admitted, “but you do! And I'm a little nervous; I've never played this level before, ”

“We’ll go nice and slow. Don't worry, ” you said.

You let your hands trail down to his lower back, rubbing right above the band of his underwear.

“I'm gonna take these off, m’kay sweetie?” you said.

His voice was a little shaky, “ok mommy, ”

You got off and knelt down next to where his head was lying on the pillow.

“We don't have to do this, baby. You can always say no or change your mind, ” you said.

“N-no, I want to. It's just...” he trailed off.

“You can tell me, honey, ” you urged.

“I want to be closer to you. I want to be in your lap, ” he whispered.

“Why were you so nervous to tell me that, sweetie? Of course, you can be in my lap, ” you cooed, “sit up for me, Shiggy, ”

He obliged. You handed him the strap on.

“Get a feel for it and let me know if it's too big. I got a smaller one just in case, ” you said.

He nodded and stroked it experimentally. His cock twitched the more he rubbed the toy.

“Is someone excited, baby?” you whispered in his ear.

He nodded, looking up at you. He was just so pretty. When you google ‘pretty,’ your screen should be filled with him. You loved him. You loved him so much. You loved him when he was soft and quiet for you and when he was stressed and loud. You loved him unconditionally.

You took the toy from his hands and placed it aside.

“Can you lay on your back and spread your legs, honey?” you asked.

He nodded, doing so. You kneeled in front of him on the bed and pulled his boxers down with minimal wiggling. Then you began to place kisses up and down his thighs. You had made the room nice and cozy with candles and pillows. You wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.

You left little kisses up and down his shaft, causing him to whine quietly. You slowly got lower and lower before pressing a kiss to his hole. He tensed immediately. You rubbed his thighs again and gave an experimental lick, causing him to gasp softly. You kept licking, and he began to moan and squirm.

“That feels really good, mommy. Th-thank you, ” he said.

You smiled to yourself, beginning to try and press into him. He tensed again, so you swirled your tongue and rubbed his thighs, causing him to moan and relax. You could prep him pretty well with just your mouth but pretty well wasn't good enough.

You put a generous amount of lube on your fingers and rubbed around him for a minute before slowly beginning to press a finger into him. This took a while. A constant cycle of push in, he tenses, you stop and wiggle your finger, he relaxes, you push in, repeat.

You were still kneeling between his legs but closer to his face, pressing small kisses to his neck and cheeks occasionally.

“How's that feel, sweetie?” you asked.

“Feels funny, ” he said, moving his hips a little, “but good, ”

You kissed his cheek before starting to ease in another one. This really got Tomura going as he graduated from slow thrusts to you curling your fingers. He was panting and whimpering now, mouth slightly open and eyes closed.

You made scissoring motions to stretch him a little more before pulling out your fingers.

“N-no, ” he whined.

“Shh baby, ” you soothed, fastening the toy to your hips, “I'm gonna sit against the headboard, and you can come over here whenever you're ready, ”

He nodded and crawled across the bed to where you were sitting almost immediately. You had used nearly half a bottle of lube by now, but it didn't matter (you hadn't paid for it anyway). You wanted this to be nice and easy for him.

He straddled your lap and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and took control of the kiss, even though it wasn't hard to. He had made a lot of decisions tonight. You felt bad. You were supposed to take charge, let him relax.

Your nails raked over his scalp, pulling away and lining him up.

“Relax for me, baby. It's gonna feel so good, Shiggy. I promise just relax for mommy, ” you said, rubbing his back.

He sunk down slowly onto the toy. His face scrunched up. You kept rubbing his back until it was all the way in.

“You did such a good job, ” your praise, “so pretty when you're all filled up, ”

He was panting with his head in the crook of your neck. You sat there for maybe five minutes, rubbing his back and kissing his hair. You told him how brave he was for trying something new. How he was such a good boy.

He raised his hips experimentally before lowering himself down. He grunted a little and repeated the action. He started to get into a slow, shallow rhythm.

‘This isn't right. He's doing too much work,’ you thought.

You flipped him under you.

“Let mommy take care of you, baby boy, ” you whispered in his ear, “mommy's gonna fuck you real good, ”

He nodded. You kept the same slow, shallow rhythm but gradually sped up. Your thrust became deeper, and his back began to arch as his sweet noises got louder and louder. He raked his nails down your back.

“Mommy go harder, please!” he cried.

You snapped your hips faster. Tears of pleasure rolled down his face as he moaned for you. He got louder and louder as you sped up, pounding into him relentlessly.

“Look at you, sweetie. You're taking me so well, sweetie. My good boy, ” you said.

You left butterfly kisses all over his face. Tomura had the biggest smile as he buried his face in your neck. You changed your angle only slightly, but he began to jerk around and gasp. His moans became more desperate, closer to screams of pleasure.

“Mommy, ” he sobbed, “mommy right there. Please, please don't stop, mommy!”

“I won't stop, baby, don't worry, ” you cooed, “I'm gonna make you cum so hard, baby boy,”

You kept hitting that spot. That spot. The spot that was making him scream, making pre-cum dribble out of his cock and onto his stomach. The spot that was making his cock twitch and throb every time you hit it. He was blabbering nonsense, writhing and scratching your back to the point that it would probably bleed as he was gasping for air.

“Mommy 'm gonna, mommy I-im gonna, fuck, ” he whimpered, “i-im gonna, ”

He threw his head back, trying to meet your thrusts.

“I-im gonna, I'm gonna, ” he scrunched his eyes up, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I'm gonna, ” he mumbled.

Tomura gripped your hips, trying to make you thrust harder. His face scrunched up, and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

“cum!” he cried.

Hot cum shot out of his cock, coating his stomach as his body twitched. He was shaking while his eyes rolled back in his head. Drool dripped down the side of his mouth.

“Mommy, ” he whimpered as he came down.

You made quick work of pulling out of Tomura, causing him to groan.

“Aw, baby, look at the mess you made, ” you gestured to the cum coating his stomach.

You gathered some of it on your finger and brought it to his mouth. He sucked it clean eagerly. You coated two more of your fingers. They were pristine in a matter of seconds. He looked up at you for more.

You tutted quietly, “good boys share with mommy, Tomu, ”

You brought your face down to his stomach and dragged your tongue through the mess, showing him your cum-coated tongue before swallowing the creamy white liquid. After he was all cleaned up, you pulled him into your chest. You rubbed his back, soothing him.

“B-but mommy, I need to make you feel good too, ” he whispered.

“No, no, honey. Just relax, ” you said, pulling him closer, “you did so well for me today, ”

“Thank you, mommy, ” he whispered.

You tucked his head under your chin and tangled your legs together, pulling the blanket up.

“There we go, sweetie. Did you feel good?” you asked.

He nodded, “you made me feel good, mommy, ”

You hummed softly, kissing the top of his head. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, admiring the way he slept so peacefully. Your heartbeat lulled him to sleep almost immediately. You loved the way he snuggled into your chest. You heard him whisper out a sleepy, “thank you, mommy, ” that made your heart melt.

#shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #tenko smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki tomura #tomura fluff #tomura x reader #mha tomura

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 3)

Summary: Dean talks with Sam about his growing feelings for the reader before inviting her and Tessa over for the evening. Later on in the week, Dean and the reader head out on a date but it doesn’t exactly end smoothly...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, brief mention of sex toys, minor frightening situation

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Dean’s POV

“Hey,” said Dean, answering his phone as he walked around the grocery store after dropping Y/N off at home. “You gonna come over for the game, Sammy?”

“I got a brief I need to write up for my boss unfortunately,” said Sam. “I can’t wait to quit.”

“Same. You tried these baked barbecue chips yet?” asked Dean, picking up a bag.

“Trying to force your guests to be healthy for once, doctor?” teased Sam.

“Well the girls are having a spa day thing I forgot about and Y/N and Tessa are coming over later for the game so I don’t want it to be a total dude fest of beer and more beer,” said Dean, putting the bag back and get some regular baked ones instead. “They should be over by second half but still.”

“Trying to impress this girl or something? With chips?” laughed Sam. Dean groaned and threw his head back. “Dean. You’re overthinking this. You know brownies are the real way to a woman’s heart.”

“See? I knew there was a reason I didn’t hang up on you yet,” said Dean, turning down the snack aisle.

“I take it the date went well if she’s coming over to hang out.”

“Yeah. She’s cool.”

“She’s cool? That’s all I’m gonna get?” asked Sam. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since you were twenty two and now that you have one it’s just cool?”

“Fine. I like her. She’s cute and she smells pretty and she’s…” trailed off Dean, tossing a tub of brownie bites in the cart.

“She’s what?” asked Sam.

“She gets me, gets what we went through.”

“Her parents fuck ups too?”

“No. But they died a few years ago. She’s got a sister about nine years younger. She’s just starting her senior year now. She’s had to raise her the past few years on her own.”

“...She really does get you then,” said Sam. “Where’d you meet her again?”

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood. She was looking for their dog. They’re having a really hard time of it right now it sounds like but she just, keeps going with a smile.”

“She’s not a damsel though. Don’t try and sweep in and save the day too much you know. You’d hate that.”

“I know. I helped her get a job at our office since she just lost hers and they’re crunched on cash. Plus the sister is going to college next year,” said Dean.

“She should apply to that grant you got. Mr. Y/L/N helped you with it, right?” asked Sam.

“Yeah he...what’d you just say?” asked Dean, pausing in front of the dip section.

“The grant money. It paid for nearly all your undergraduate right?” asked Sam. “It’s the same one I did too.”

“Mr. Y/L/N,” said Dean, shutting his eyes as he realized why Y/N’s house looked so familiar. “Sammy.”

“What?”

“Y/N, the girl, her house...where was Mr. Y/L/N’s house?” asked Dean.

“Over on Pine I think,” said Sam. “I know it’s in your neighborhood somewhere.”

“Oh Sammy. Shit,” said Dean. “I think I know why he stopped talking to us a few years ago. His house, that’s Y/N’s house. Mr. Y/L/N was her dad, Sam.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. Fuck,” said Dean adding some sour cream and onion and guacamole to the cart. “She’s gonna think I’m just trying to pay her back for what he did or something.”

“Yeah but you didn’t know that when you got her the job. You gotta tell her at some point but it doesn’t have to be a problem,” said Sam.

“Well what if he went and told his family about the guy he caught stealing? I’m sure she’d think I’m great then. Of course, the one woman that I’m like…”

“You’re like what?” asked Sam. Dean was quiet, heading over towards the beer cooler. “In love with?”

“Geez, Sam. I barely know her. I’m not in love with her,” said Dean. “I just...I could see myself being in love with her.”

“So...you pre-love her,” said Sam.

“Exactly.”

“Yeah there’s no such thing, dumbass. You’re fucking falling for this girl and fast.”

“I know,” said Dean, shutting his eyes by the milk. “She just...she feels like you. Like she’s got no ulterior motive. I just...something is telling me I can’t fuck this up. I’m not supposed to.”

“Then you won’t,” said Sam. “You sure it’s not like that thing with Lisa?”

“That was me ignoring all the crap because I thought somebody loved me. Sam the moment I met this girl like...I don’t know,” said Dean. “I don’t think she’ll fuck me over.”

“I hope she works out. She sounds special.”

“She is and that is terrifying.”

“Dean contrary to what we grew up with and how your love life has gone so far, there are people that have amazing relationships out there. You can be one of them if you want,” he said. 

“I know. Take a break and call at halftime or something, okay? The losers miss seeing your face too.”

“I will. Talk to you soon Dean.”

Reader’s POV

“Hello, Y/N,” said Tessa as you walked past her room an hour later. “How was Dean’s?”

“Good. He invited us over later to watch football. Some guys your age will be there too if you’re interested.”

“Alright,” she said. “Hey so you know how we were talking about sex stuff yesterday?”

“Oh yeah. We were gonna talk more,” you said. You took a seat in her desk chair and she sat up on her bed. “The fake dick thing, that was throwing you off, right?”

“Yeah. Well, I kinda talked to Hailey about that stuff last night and she has one. She like showed me it so I kinda get that apparently it feels good if there’s something up there?” she asked.

“Yes, it does. What’s with the questions about sex toys?” you asked.

“I know my birthday is coming up and I’ll be eighteen and I kinda…I’m a hormonal teenager and-”

“I can get you a private gift,” you said with a smile. “Just shut your door if you’re gonna do it when I’m home, okay?”

“I do that now.”

“Good,” you said. “I’ll pick out something small and by the time you want something more, then you can pick that out on your own, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “Did mom ever...talk about this stuff with you?”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “I found out on my own. It’s perfectly normal and natural and guys aren’t the only ones allowed to get off on their own.”

“Not sure I’d ever ask her anyways,” she said.

“That’s what sisters are for,” you said. “You have fun at Hailey’s then?”

“Mhm. It’s okay if Toast goes to Dean’s later right?”

“Uh, let me check quick,” you said, pulling out your phone.

Hey. Toast can come over too right?

Duh, Y/L/N. He’s more than welcome. 

Okay. We’ll see you later.

Later sweetheart.

“Yeah, Toast is cool,” you said. You stood and Tessa cocked her head, smiling at you. “What?”

“How was your date?” she asked. 

“I like him. I like him a lot.”

“Good. Tell him if he fucks with you though I’ll kick his ass,” she said. “So will Toast.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it with this one.”

“Whoa, whoa, ladies,” said Dean as you and Tessa started to put on your shoes to head home after the game. “It’s only seven and you two need dinner.”

“What are you making?” asked Tessa.

“I was going to do enchiladas?” he said. Tessa looked at you and you nodded.

“Only if we help though,” you said.

“Alright. Tessa how about you make up some guac for us. You can hang out at the counter, get off that ankle of yours,” said Dean.

“He so likes you,” she said as you walked back with her to the kitchen.

“Yes, I do,” chuckled Dean. Toast followed close by and whined, pawing at your foot. “She okay?”

“My meds are home. Supposed to have them with dinner,” said Tessa with a sigh.

“I can run home and get them real quick,” you said. “Ten minutes.”

“Alright. We’ll get started without you.”

Ten minutes later you were back along with some of Toast’s dog food. You could hear laughter coming from the kitchen, Tessa snorting to herself.

“Here you go dork,” you said, popping the bottle down in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a few. You used a bowl and fed Toast some dinner while Dean worked on putting the tortillas together. “I like your doctor boyfriend.”

“Oh course you do,” you said, smacking her arm.

“Someone told me she’s turning eighteen in a few weeks. You got any big plans?” he asked as he tucked the last enchilada in a casserole dish.

“We might get a pizza,” said Tessa. “Nothing fancy.”

“Oh I think we can do better than that,” you said with a smile.

“I thought…” said Tessa and you shrugged. “We’re going out? Are we going to Monico’s like we used to?”

“Monico’s? That’s very fancy,” said Dean, giving you a quick look. “You got room for one more?”

“I…” you said, Dean cocking his head. “Sure. You wouldn’t mind, would you Tessa?”

“Yeah, Dean can come,” she said. “Oh shit, would they even let Toast in?”

“He’s a service dog so legally yes, they have to,” said Dean as he popped the casserole in the oven. “Y/N, why don’t you help me set the table. I never eat in the dining room anyways.”

You carried some plates in the room around the front of the house, staring at Dean as he set some spots down.

“Dean. That is a hundred dollar a plate restaurant.”

“It’s her eighteenth birthday and mine was real shitty. I can afford it. Let me. Please.”

“You can’t just buy stuff for her or me.”

“Why not? I like you. I care about you and she’s part of that so I think caring about her is going to be pretty important to you at some point so I might as well start now.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“Thank you,” you said. 

“Oh. Well...okay then.” You left the plates on the table and walked around to where he was, Dean glancing away when you wrapped your arm around his waist.

“Let me go dutch at least.”

“Bake me a pie and we’re even,” he said.

“Alright. Pie is it, Dean.”

Thursday Afternoon

“Hello, Y/N,” said Dean. He grinned as he walked into the lab. “How’s the first week going?”

“She’s a fast learner,” said the lab manager. “What do you need, Winchester?”

“Just saying hi to our new colleague,” he said. 

“I already know she’s your girlfriend, Dean.”

“You’re no fun, Wesley,” said Dean. “You like it?”

“I like the pay. Wesley says after a little while I can take some certification courses and work on more complex things. The research hospital tied with the university is really good for that stuff,” you said.

“Oh yeah, those guys do pretty well over there. I think our last tech went on to the radiology program over there. I know blood and urine samples aren’t the most fun thing to work on but-”

“Dean this is more than what I was making as a paralegal even,” you said quietly. “This job is great and Tessa’s on better insurance now. Honestly. I owe you one.”

“All you owe me is a pie,” he chuckled. “You got plans tonight? I know you’ve been busy.”

“I’m free if you had something in mind,” you said.

“Do you maybe want to go out for dinner? Maybe do a round of bowling?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Sounds fun. Pick me up at six thirty?”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.”

“Okay, were you conning me?” asked Dean as you walked back to his car that evening. You giggled and he pulled you into a noogie. “How the fuck do you go from a twenty eight your first game to one fifty? There is no way you weren’t pulling a fast one.”

“What can I say, maybe I just needed a warm up game,” you said. Dean ruffled your hair for a moment before fixing it, leaving his arm around your shoulder when your phone rang. “Hey Tess. What’s up?”

“I think somebody’s in the house,” she said quietly. “I’m in my closet with Toast.”

“Dean, call 911,” you said, his hand already moving into his pocket. “Someone’s in the house.”

“Y/N, I think they’re upstairs,” she whispered.

“Don’t say a word. I’m right here and Dean’s calling the cops right now. Toast’ll protect you until they get there okay?” you said. 

“Y/N, they say they’re already responding to a call your neighbor put in. The cops are there?” said Dean.

“Hello, Elmdale police department. Anyone home?” said a voice through the phone.

“Tessa it’s okay. Those are the police,” you said. “We’ll be home in five minutes okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Thanks again,” you said, saying goodnight to the officers. You shut the door after yourself, Tessa sat on the couch with her arms crossed. “Tessa how many times have I told you. At night, you lock the front door. The storm door is broken and has been forever. The front door’s been wide open for hours.”

“I don’t need you to yell at me,” she said.

“Tessa somebody could have walked right on in and-”

“Oh my God, I know,” she said. She stormed upstairs and slammed her door shut, opening it quickly for Toast to come inside before it slammed again.

“I’ve told her so many times,” you said as you paced the family room. Dean walked over and rubbed your arms, kissing your forehead. “Sorry.”

“She made a mistake. Kids make them. So do adults.”

“I know she’s shaken up,” you said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Yeah but maybe she won’t do it again,” he said. “She’s not the only one shaken up.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said.

“How about I crash on the couch tonight,” he said. “Give you girls some peace of mind.”

“You can sleep in my room,” you said.

“I thought you had a twin sized bed,” he chuckled. “The couch is fine. I want to. I wasn’t just talking about you two either.”

“You’re sweet,” you said.

“Oh I’m very aware,” he said. “Go talk to your sister.”

“There’s blankets in the cupboard under the TV,” you said.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. He kissed you and you headed upstairs, knocking on Tessa’s door. 

“Tess. Can we talk?” you asked. The door opened slowly and she had her arms crossed at you. “I’m sorry for freaking out. I got scared too.”

“I’m sorry I forgot about the door again,” she said quietly.

“Tessa, we...we gotta protect ourselves. We gotta make sure we do things like lock doors and windows at night. Two young women alone in a house...I know your mind already went there once tonight. Please, please remember to lock the door from now, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Dean’s gonna stay the night on the couch downstairs,” you said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna get past him,” you said.

“He seems like a really good guy. You deserve one of those,” she said.

“I think so too,” you said. “Night.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Dean’s POV

“Sammy boy, isn’t it past your bedtime?” chuckled Dean as he answered his phone, watching some late night TV quietly from Y/N’s couch.

“Shut up. How big is the guest room at your house? I was thinking of getting a new bed and just having it delivered there.”

“Oh, you finally gonna get off that tiny ass mattress?” teased Dean.

“De…”

“You can have the spare bedroom at the end. It’s bigger, got it’s own attached bath. Plus it’s empty so win win.”

“Would a king fit?” he asked.

“Probably. I’m not home right now but I can measure tomorrow for you,” said Dean.

“On a hot date?” laughed Sam.

“I was. Y/N’s little sister had a bit of a scare.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Kid just accidentally left the front door open and neighbor called the cops, cops came, Tessa heard it and freaked a bit. I’m crashing on the couch for the night. They’re a little shook up still.”

“Well someone’s gonna get some brownie points for that one.”

“Nah, Y/N knows I’m only here cause I want to be, dude.”

“Not at all what I said but whatever. Oh by the way, I got another call from mom today. I let it go to voicemail.”

“What’d she say?” sighed Dean, running his hand through his hair.

“She just like...wanted to say she’s thinking about us, like both of us or some shit.”

“Oh that’s nice. Better late than never, ain’t that right Sammy?” said Dean, rolling his eyes and laying down on the couch.

“Dean. I’m not saying...can I ask why you hate her so much?” Sam asked after a beat. Dean moved the phone away and shut his eyes. He put his head down and let out a deep breathe, moving the phone back. “De.”

“She’s not a good person. You know that. Leave it at that.”

“Did she smack you around too?” asked Sam quietly.

“Dad at least you knew was an asshole. She pretended she wasn’t though and she’s just a bitch that blames her shitty life on us when we turned out awesome. She can get fucked along with him.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah. Block her number Sam. It’s the best thing you can do.”

“You think there’s no chance of anything with her then.”

“Mom’s shouldn’t tell their kids the shit she said to me. Ever. I’m just glad you never got it as much.”

“I punched her in the leg once,” chuckled Sam. “Got my ass spanked but it was worth it.”

“What’d she do?”

“I just remember she made you cry real bad and I got as pissed off as a seven year old could.”

“We got each other’s backs,” said Dean. “All that matters.”

“Tell me about Y/N,” said Sam, Dean shaking his head. “Come on. No more depressing shit. She sounded cute when I talked to her at the game Sunday. I bet she’s cute.”

“She is,” said Dean. “I’m super into her, like super into her, don’t get me wrong but like...I just like her too. Like she’s gorgeous but it’s not like, why I’m attracted? I’m probably not saying this right.”

“I get what you’re saying,” said Sam. “You should totally take her to Mel’s for dinner tomorrow.”

“I really ought to take her to a sit down restaurant before she runs off on me.”

“Mel’s is sit down.”

“Mel’s is greasy burgers and pulled pork at picnic tables.”

“If she doesn’t like Mel’s I can’t like this girl Dean. I’m sorry but those are just facts,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled, staring up at the ceiling. 

“We could get the sweetheart special. My cholesterol won’t like it but my soul will,” chuckled Dean. “Really? Mel’s?”

“If that girl doesn’t love the ice box pie at the end, she is certifiable,” said Sam.

“I have faith in this one,” said Dean. He shut his eyes and hummed. “You really want to listen to me talk about her?”

“I got about two hundred pages to sign and stamp. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Alright. You asked for it.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn

[donutloverxo]

No more waiting

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - Part two to Pink Lady.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Andy is determined to wait. But will he be able to?

Warnings - 18+ only smut (m/f), professor/student relationship, unprotected sex, dom Andy, many mentions of spanking but no actual spanking, sir kink.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 3320

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You groaned as you tossed out yet another piece of clothing. Professor Barber had asked you to come to his house, so he could give you ‘private lessons’. Obviously, you had no interest in actually studying. Especially with a man who looks like Andy Barber. You intended on milking the time you did have with him by getting what you wanted.

You settled on a tight skirt that hadn’t fit you in years. It was sexy enough to be enticing but innocent enough that you could claim plausible deniability.

You are not trying to tease him. You would never! You’re just wearing a normal skirt and taking lessons like the diligent and sincere student that you are.

You whistled lowly, pulling over in front of his house, impressed by the sheer size of it. He was an actual adult with a big, sophisticated house in the suburbs. The most valuable thing you owned was a Louis Vuitton bag an ex gave you.

You couldn’t be intimidated. Not now, when you were in this deep. Checking your lipstick one last time you rang the bell, holding your books up and eagerly waiting.

After a minute he opened the door. Leaning over the frame and examining you.

You felt butterflies pool in your stomach at his casual loungewear. His sleeves rolled up, exposing his tones arms to you and those dark jeans hugging him so perfectly. You really couldn’t decide if you preferred this or those business suits.

“You’re late.” he scolded you as you rolled your eyes. Of course that’s the first thing he'd say to you. “What have I said about rolling your eyes at me?” he cocked his head to the side, as if daring you to provoke him.

You hummed in thought, “I don’t remember.... Oh yes!” you beamed as if you’d had an epiphany “to do it as often as I can!”

He stared you down for a moment before shaking his head as he chuckled. “Get in here. What am I going to do with you?”

You were about to be a smartass some more, cooking up a dirty response in your head, just to see how far you could push him but then he put his hand on your lower back. You felt shivers run up your spine, goose bumps all over your skin as you squirmed under his touch.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, shutting the door behind you.

You gulped as you nodded, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? I’m just here to study.” You laughed to ease your own nerves.

“Go sit on the table,” he instructed.

You pulled out a chair, placing your books on the dining table. He sat in front of you, nursing a beer. “Let’s start. Where do you struggle the most?”

“Can I have one too?” You were about to take the bottle from him to take but he swatted your hands away.

“Absolutely not. You need a clear head to study. And we both know you can’t handle your alcohol.”

You scoffed incredulously, “I can so! And if I can’t have it then neither should you.” you puffed your cheeks before mumbling “beer tastes gross anyway.”

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” he groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s not forget, I’m doing you a favor here.”

“I know, maybe I could thank you for it.” you licked your lips. Thinking of his heavy cock in your mouth, the biggest you’ve ever had, it was a challenge to deep throat him. You weren’t one to just give it away for free and not expect anything in return. But... anything for professor Barber.

“That’s cute,” he said condescendingly, giving you a fake wide smile. “Now start studying or I’ll have to spank you,” he warned.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you giggled shamelessly, not really understanding how that would be a punishment, but then opened your book when he gave you a stern look.

He got up and walked to the stove check on his sauce. He just needed to get away from you for a moment and take a breather.

He hasn’t thought this through.

His original plan was to tutor you and get your grades up. So that you could graduate and he could ask you out without endangering his job and reputation. He intended to keep his hands to himself till then. One slip up and you both would have to face grave consequences.

The blow job in his office - was a mistake. Although it was too good to be something he mourned or regretted. He should’ve said no but you knew just to push his buttons. Just like the ridiculous schoolgirl skirt you were wearing tonight. Or how your tight shirt and cleavage left nothing to his imagination.

Worse of all was that fucking red lip. He hated that you had tasted him and he couldn’t even kiss you. What he wouldn’t give for just a quick peck.

“Mr Barber,” he heard you call for him and groaned as his cock stirred at your chirpy tone. He loathed just how far gone he was for you. You, sitting up so sweetly with your breasts pushed up together, certainly don’t make it any easier.

“I’m all done. Can we get on to the fun part now? Pretty please?” you cooed batting your lashes at him.

“The fun part is studying - keep telling yourself that and you might actually like it.” he suggested and you rolled your eyes again. He had half a mind to bend you over the table, lift up your skirt and pull down your panties, even though he was pretty sure you weren’t wearing any, and teach you a lesson. “Careful. Or they’ll get stuck up there.” He tapped your forehead with his finger.

“I meant the actual fun part.” Boldly, you reached over and palmed his crotch through his jeans. Not really surprised to find him aroused.

“Stop,” he gritted as he grabbed at your wrist with a bruising grip. “I told you, we’re not doing that. Not till you graduate or I’ll lose my job.”

“What about what we did in your office?” you pouted.

“That was a mistake. You left me no choice.”

You frowned, “Right. I overpowered you because you’re so weak and helpless.”

“Enough. Now study and then we can have dinner.”

“And then we have dessert?” You wiggled your brows suggestively.

“No. Then you drive back to your dorm.” he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes and sat across you, working on his cases. Maybe that would inspire you to actually get some studying done.

“Do you not like law?” he asked after over an hour.

You hummed as you heard him. Too engrossed in studying, you didn’t even register his words. You didn’t remember the last time you had concentrated so well. “Meh. It’s alright I guess. I wouldn’t wanna go to law school though.”

“Then what do you want to do?” he dropped his pen leaning back on the chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I don’t know. I guess what you do sounds nice,” you mumbled making notes with your glitter pens.

“Being a DA?”

“Yeah. It just sounds so hard though. Like going to law school and then being an intern for years and then working for like eighty hours a week...”

“Anything worth having is always hard to achieve.” he stated. Aware of how the same applies to his situation. He wants, no needs you, but if he wants to do this the right way - he has to wait.

“I guess you’re right.” you agreed.

After going over your notes and quizzing you, he was satisfied with your progress. He set the table for dinner.

“Good job,” he smiled, feeling his heart swell with pride. “See, you put your mind to something and you can absolutely achieve it.”

You squinted your eyes, “No spanking then?”

He chuckled “Nope. Not for now. I’m your tutor, that’s all.” he said more so to himself, to remember, to have some self control, it will pay off.

“Oh my gosh!” you moaned as the creamy tangy sauce burst your taste buds “I can’t remember the last time I ate something that wasn’t ramen.”

He shook his head “You need to eat better to study better.”

“But I don’t know how to cook!” you whined.

“Then I guess I’ll have you teach you that too.”

He helped you pack your things up, moving as slow as a sloth. Not wanting you to leave just yet. He couldn’t have enough of you. Maybe he’d ask you to stay in the guestroom. He had a perfectly good excuse, it was late. But he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to keep his hands off of you.

“Goodbye then. I’m going to quiz you tomorrow. Don’t forget.” he said walking you to his door. He turned to see you blinking up at him.

He never thought he’d be so smitten with someone so different than him. All his life he dated women his age or older. They suited his old soul much better, none of his relationships really went anywhere, maybe he was too cautious to actually let someone in. To open up enough, to reveal his true self to anyone.

But you were unlike anyone he had ever met, it was as if you were exotic. So bright - almost blinding. So young and sweet. You made him feel things he never thought he could. You could be the proverbial ying to his yang.

“Yeah yeah, I remember,” you waved him off. Still salty that you didn’t get to do any of the naughty stuff you had planned. “Is there something on my face?” You touched your cheek when you caught him staring at you. Letting out a shaky breath and cowering under his predatory gaze.

“I’ll try harder next time!” you panicked, assuming you did a bad job at studying. You tried your best. What else were you supposed to do? The idea of a spanking sounded more scary than sexy to you now.

“Fuck it,” he gritted as he crashed his lips over yours, grabbing your waist and your hip to still you. He invaded your mouth with his tongue, taking his time to explore all your nooks. Sucking your bottom lip between his lips before releasing it with a smack he pulled away. Both of you heaving and trying to catch your breath.

You threw your arms around his neck, pressing hot and quick kisses “I thought we were going to wait,” you said against his lips.

“I can’t. I thought I could. I’m only a man, you know?” he sighed as he pulled you in, exploring your body with his hands “What do you want to do?” As impatient as he was, he would never force himself on you or do anything without your permission.

“I just... I - ” Your cheeks instantly heat up as you stutter. As naughty as your filthy mind was, it had to choose this moment to betray you. “You know, you know! Oh my god,” you smacked your forehead “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning down to suck your earlobe “say it.” He peppered butterfly kisses on your jaw and down your neck. Sucking thoroughly on a spot that made you moan.

“Fine!” you huffed. Feeling his fingers ghost over your inner thighs. “Professor – sir, will you please fuck me. As in put your man missile in my special princess place.” you said in a mock seductive tone.

“Don’t sass me.” he groaned, pushing his erection into you, he put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around, lightly smacking your butt he urged you to go upstairs. “Come on, hurry up. We don’t have all night.” You did have all night but his patience, as it often did with you, was running thin.

You made yourself comfortable on his bed, working on his belt and unzipping his pants. “I’ve never been this addicted to a cock before, professor,” you husked pulling him out of his underwear and licking a firm stripe up his slit, his hand holding onto your head. “I hope you know you’re special.” you beamed at him through hooded eyes. Wrapping your lips around his weeping tip, about to swallow him whole but he pushes your head away.

“Right back at ya, honey. Now,” he laid down on his back beside you as you stared at him, so adorably confused, “come sit on my face.”

“What?!” you unintentionally screamed -in delightful horror. It had always been a fantasy of yours, so downright dirty, and you have a chance to do it with your dream man? You would be a fool to turn him down, but you were anxious, that beard between your thighs would be a bit too much for you to handle.

He didn’t give you any time to think about it, grabbing your hips and swiftly placing you on top of his head, “Oh!” you yelped at the coarse feel of his whiskers against your pussy. You held onto his short silky locks for support as he worked on steadying you “That’s - ” you were cut off when he wrapped his mouth around your clit, sucking it harshly.

“You’re already so wet,” The vibrations from his words sent a jolt up your spine “And you’re not wearing any panties,” he tutted before diving back in, determined to not stop until you’re seeing stars.

“Are you really surprised - holy shit,” you gasped as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance before slipping in. It was so strange and new, the velvety warm feel of it was almost too good. “Oh, I’m gonna come.” you whimpered.

“No,” he pulled away “you don’t come without permission. Is that understood?”

You frantically nod your head, under any other circumstances you would’ve argued, who the hell does he think he is to deny or control your orgasms? But you were putty in his hands and desperate to have that sweet release. “Please, sir, can I come?”

“May I come.” He corrected you “You need to learn some manners.”.

And you had to supress the urge to call him names, “May I come, sir? Please.” you said breathlessly as he lapped you up.

“Yes, you may.”

You sobbed, his fingers digging into your ass and his tongue working magic on you was too good all at once. A string of curses and loud moans left your mouth, your climax hitting you in waves of pleasure, you held onto the headboard as your legs turned into jello.

“That was amazing,” you panted, mewling as he nipped at your sensitive flesh.

You got off of him, kneeling beside him as he got up, his beard drenched in your juices which he rubbed off with the back of his hand. Placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, to make you taste your own arousal, he pushed you down on his mattress and worked on ridding you of your clothes.

You pulled the helm of his shirt up “Off!” you whined. He was too far gone to chastise you so he took off his clothes, throwing them away before he got a good look at you.

He groaned at your naked form. He had thought of you while pleasuring himself more than once. He wouldn’t even be bothered to be ashamed of it. He thought of your lips and small hands wrapped around his girth, how tight and hot your cunt would feel, but most of all how beautiful you’d look when you were completely bare.

He painted a pretty picture in his head, but really, he never could do you any justice. His imagination could never be that strong.

“Is something wrong?” you bashfully averted your eyes from him.

“No. You’re just so... perfect.” he couldn’t come up with a better word.

You scoffed, “You’re just saying that. There are a million things I’d change about myself. I’m not the one who’s perfect!” you frowned. Tempted to touch his defined abs. His broad shoulders and bulky form looked ridiculously big between your legs.

“I don’t have time to argue,” He absolutely would not have you or anyone else, putting you down. Bur right now, his cock was aching to be buried in your heat. If he waited any longer he was afraid he’d burst. He lined his cock up to your entrance, watching intently as he slowly pushed in “but we will have a discussion about that, later.” he groaned as he bottomed out.

“What?” You had no idea what he was even going on about. His cock was stretching you out “It’s too big,” you cried. You felt as if you were being split in half.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can handle it. I’ll be gentle.” He was aware that he was much bigger than average. So he stayed inside you for a few moments, letting you get accustomed to his length. He slipped a hand between your joined bodies, spreading your lips open with his fingers.

“Don’t - don’t do that.” Him looking at your pussy like that, when you were so vulnerable before him made you flustered.

“Look,” he told you and you only shook your head. He sternly said your name and ordered you to look again.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, gulping as you sneaked a peek, whimpering at the sight of his girth buried inside you.

“You have such a pretty pussy you know that?” He gushed before making a ‘tch' sound and stilling your hips, stopping your pathetic attempts at wiggling them. “Wait a minute, will you?” he wasn’t done admiring you and savoring you.

“Please,” you begged as tears fell down your cheeks.

He grumbled something under his breath before pulling out of you, his tip still buried in your heat, he pushed back in forcefully.

You threw your head back, clutching your pillow tightly as his hips rutted into you. His pelvis rubbing your swollen clit every time he bottomed out.

“Can I - can I come?” you remembered to ask him even though you were too delirious to even comprehend what you we’re sayings. Everything around you slipped into an abyss. His groans echoing in the room, his bruising grip on your hip, and his cock driving into you again and again, touching all your sweet spots.

You weren’t sure you could stop yourself even if he said no. But you knew he’d never be that mean. You vaguely heard him say ‘yes' before you let go. Clenching around his length as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming anymore.

His hips stuttered, pulling his length out of you, he stroked himself above you. Your fucked out state only fuelling his aggressive jerks as spurts of his seed landed on your stomach and your titts.

He held onto your knee, swirling his cum that painted your skin so beautiful with his fingers, “Looks pretty on you,” He smeared some on your nipple before pulling it between his fingers.

“Ouch,” you grimaced as he released it. “Too sensitive right now.” you closed your eyes, already feeling drowsy.

He hummed “I’ll let you sleep for a few hours.” He used his discarded shirt to clean his cum off of you before throwing it away and pulling you in his arms. He nuzzled his nose in your hair, feeling satiated with your soft warm body against him.

“You have god tier stamina, man.” You murmured “Andy, you couldn’t even last a day. What happened to being patient? What will people say?” you giggled, burying your head in his chest.

“That’s Professor Barber to you.” he smiled, kissing your temple. Even tired, you were still a spitfire. He’d deal with all that the next day. “It was worth it.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #andy x reader #andy barber x you #professor!andy barber

[pan-fangirl-345]

Volleyboy Blondie

Summary: There’s a boy that you set to at the community center. Your brother and his best friend are overprotective. You don’t have many friends. You’re about to find out how these three things correlate.

A/N: I don’t even know anymore people, I really don’t. Please ignore the blatant self-projection in these. And ignore the fact that our resident Mad Dog is quite OOC. And yes, the title is supposed to be like that, read and you’ll find out why.

TW: Swearing, low self-esteem, overprotective brother and brother figures, there is some minor violence, but it is well deserved in my opinion, there is a small hint of sexual harassment, but nothing rape-y happens. As always, if I’ve left anything out, please let me now through an ask or a personal message and I will get right on it.

“You’re late,” the boy said, frowning.

“Sorry Blondie, my brother wanted to tell me about how mean his girlfriend is for dumping him,” you muttered, tying your shoes up as he walks over.

The blond boy grunted, watching as you stood and stretched your arms out.

You had learned a while ago that he wasn’t one for words, he just watched you like you were a puzzle that he was trying to figure out.

“Toss to me?” he inquired.

“I wouldn’t be here to do anything else,” you told him, tossing him the ball.

He backed up, bumping the ball to you before he made his approach.

You watched the ball, tracking it with your eyes, then glancing at him, letting the ball glance off your fingers.

You watched as his arm went back, back muscles contracting and rippling against his t-shirt as he slammed it over the other side of the net, the sound resounding through the gym for a moment before he turned to you, eyes shining in a way that told you he wanted another one.

You grinned at him, grabbing another ball from the basket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blond guy, you had never learned his name, sat against the wall, chugging the water bottle you had just handed him.

“You’re good,” he muttered, looking up at you. “You on a team?”

“No,” you admitted, sitting next to him. “Everyone would assume I’m trying to be like my brother. And I really don’t need that right now.”

“You talk about your brother a lot.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard not to,” you muttered. “Considering everyone compares me to him. It’s one of the reasons I like hanging around you. You have no expectations.”

He raised an eyebrow, then said, “Kyoutani.”

“Huh?”

“My name, it’s Kyoutani.”

“And you’re telling me this . . . why?”

He shrugged. “Figured you should know.”

“You can call me (Y/F/N),” you told him, tossing your water bottle into your bag as you checked your phone. “What do you want?”

“Is that anyway to talk to your favorite older brother?” Tooru asked.

“You’re my only brother, older or otherwise. So, I repeat my earlier question. What do you want?” you asked.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the community gym. Why?”

“Is Iwa-chan there with you?” Tooru inquired.

“No, why?”

“You know how we feel about you going places without us.”

“Tooru, I am fifteen, almost sixteen, I’m not the cute little five year old in a skirt that you had to follow everywhere. I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m with a-” You paused. Kyoutani wasn’t really a friend, but he wasn’t a random guy either. “An acquaintance of mine.”

Kyoutani gave a small snort and you rolled your eyes. “Shut it, Blondie.”

“Huh?”

“Not you, moron. I’ll be home in like, an hour, try not to piss Haji off too much while I’m gone alright?”

You hung up before your brother could get another word in, chuckling.

“Oh, I hate him,” you muttered, tossing your phone into your bag again. “You wanna go again?”

Kyoutani nodded, raising to his feet.

“What about you?” you inquired. “You on a team?”

“Kind of,” he muttered, toying with the ball in his hands. “I don’t get along with them.”

“Well, that must suck for them,” you said. “You’re a good player.”

He may have looked like a delinquent, but Kyoutani was a good person, he was just blunt.

“Give me a second, I just need to redo my hair,” you said, pulling your hair out of it’s braid, shaking it loose.

“Want some help?” he asked.

“You know how to braid hair?”

“I have a little sister,” he admitted, moving to run his fingers through your hair, easily weaving the three sections together.

“You must be a great brother, mine makes me pay him to do my hair,” you muttered.

Kyoutani snorted, taking the elastic you handed him.

“Thanks,” you said, toying with the end of your braid. “Come on, if I’m not back within an hour my brother will call Haji, and I don’t need that bloodhound on my ass,” you muttered, making Kyoutani snort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You shrugged your jacket on as you headed out of the gym.

“Tomorrow?” Kyoutani inquired.

“You betcha,” you said, smiling at him.

He stood there for a moment, then asked, “Can I walk you to the bus?”

“You don’t have to, it’s not far,” you told him.

“Want too though.” 

“I mean, if you want to I guess it’s okay,” you said, wondering what had gotten into him all of a sudden.

Your phone buzzing made you sigh. “I’m on my way home, don’t send Haji out.”

“(Y/F/N), it’s Hajime,” Hajime said. “Where are you?”

“I’m walking to the bus stop. I’m literally like, fifteen minutes away,” you said, adjusting your bag.

“Your brother is freaking out.”

“My brother is a little shit,” you told him.

“I know, I’ve known him front, back, right, left, and inside out since we were seven. You’re his sister, he wants to protect you.”

“See, here’s the thing Haji, you’ve both been tailing me like guard dogs since I was- what?- three? You two aren’t going to be around forever. You guys have to stop isolating me,” you told him. “I love you like another brother Haji, but god damnit, you’re both overbearing!”

Hajime sighed, and you could hear Tooru in the background, crying.

“Fuck, was I on speaker?”

“Yup,” Haji replied.

“Fuck my life,” you muttered. “Do damage control, I’ll be home soon.”

You hung up, running a hand over your hair.

“How bad?” Kyoutani asked.

“Don’t ask,” you muttered. “Look, thank you for this. These meet-ups help me as much as they do you. I’ll see you around Kyoutani.”

He nodded, looking slightly shocked.

“What?” you inquired.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, but the tips of his ears burned red and you smiled at him.

“Why are you shy all of a sudden?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him. “Anyway, thank you for walking me to the station, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kyoutani nodded, making sure you were seated before he headed towards his own home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tooru, Haji, I’m home,” you called, tossing your bag  down as you untied your shoes.

“(Y/F/N)!” Tooru whined, throwing himself at you. “I-I’m sor-sorry!” he sobbed.

“Get off me!” you hissed, shoving him towards Hajime, who grunted.

“Ar-Are we re-really ov-overbearing?” he inquired.

“Yes. Look,” you began. “I love you both, but I don’t have friends. I don’t have a boyfriend. Have you ever wondered why? I can’t make friends with the girls because they’re vultures and they want to get close to the two of you, and most of the guys I know are terrified of the both of you and your team.”

“It’s my job to protect you!” Tooru said, pouting.

“Tooru, this isn’t protecting me,” you snapped, glaring at him. “I need to be able to make my own friends. You can’t keep sending Haji out like a fucking bloodhound when you don’t know where I am.”

“What about that acquaintance you were talking about earlier?”

“He doesn’t have anything to do with this! Only reason I even know him is because I set for him. I only learned his name today!”

“He?”

Tooru had that squinty look on his face when he didn’t like something. And Haji had that look that told you he was pissed.

“Don’t give me those looks,” you snarled. “He wouldn’t touch me like that with a thirty foot fucking pole. He’s too emotionally stunted for that. Besides, if you boys haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly crush material.”

“Who the fuck told you that?” Haji demanded.

“Like, every person in school? I hang out with mostly boys, I get called a slut and whore by the girls, and I’m not feminine enough for most of the boys I hang out with. I’ve been told that the thought of dating me is like the thought of being gay to them. I’m not getting many confessions,” you snarled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tooru and Haji stared at you for a moment before Tooru asked, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“And be the little bitch that runs to her big brother and his beefy friend to fix all of her problems? I don’t think so,” you said, scowling.

The three of you stood there for a moment in silence before Tooru made a choked noise, looking close to tears.

Your phone ringing caught your attention and you sighed, rummaging through your bag to find it.

Volleyboy

“Everything okay?” you asked, answering the call.

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you calling? Do you have to reschedule again?”

“No.”

“C’mon, I need a little more info here Blondie,” you told him.

“I wanted to make sure you were home,” he admitted.

“So you called?” you said. “You haven’t called me since we started this whole thing.”

Kyoutani wasn’t one for words, you had learned that a long time ago, and you knew that if you saw him he would be bright red and shrugging.

“Thank you for the concern Blondie,” you told him. “I have to go, I’m talking with my brother, but we’re still on for tomorrow right?”

“Definitely,” he replied.

“Great, later Blondie,” you said, ending the call. 

“Blondie?” Haji questioned.

“I didn’t know his name until today and I had to call him something other than Volleyboy. We had this unspoken deal, I set for him, he spikes for me, and we don’t make small talk. Or that was the deal until Tooru made me late today.”

“Huh,” Hajime muttered. “Well, as long as he doesn’t try anything. Stop with the look Shittykawa!”

“Haji, you keep forgetting that those names apply to me too,” you teased, wrinkling your nose at him. “Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower and get something to eat, what do you two want?”

“I just want you to be happy, (Y/F/N),” Tooru said, looking sad.

“You’re gonna be waiting a while Ruru,” you told him, using the old nickname you had given him as a child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, (Y/F/N), do you think that you could help us out?” Haji asked.

“Sure, whatcha need?” you inquired.

“Can you refill these and help pick balls up? We need a manager, but no one wants to do it.”

“Ask one of my brother’s fangirls, I’m sure they’d be more than willing,” you muttered.

“No, we tried that. They don’t actually help to manage the team. Most of the guys seem to know you, so we were hoping that you would consider managing for us?”

“I mean, do you guys really want me to be the manager?” you inquired. “I don’t really feel qualified.”

“The guys all love you, and Tooru and I will be here to make sure that they keep their hands to themselves.”

“Wow Haji,” you muttered. “Subtle much?”

He shrugged, looking at you for a moment before he said, “I leave subtle to your brother.”

“Yeah, because my brother is so subtle.”

“So, you in?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Guys, this is (Y/F/N) Oikawa, she’ll be our new manager.”

“So you’re the famous little sister we’ve heard so much about,” Hanamaki said.

“You’ve never met her?” Yahaba inquired.

“Nope, she’s never there when we go over, and she doesn’t come on team retreats,” Mattsukawa said.

“I’m never there because I can barely stand my brother around Haji, I don’t want to have to deal with his melodramatic ass around someone he called the ‘Meme Team’,” you retorted, arms crossed.

“If you were expecting a mini Oikawa, you boys are gonna be disappointed,” Haji said, smirking. “These two are polar opposites.”

“Murder me,” you mumbled. “Tooru, stop hiding in the corner and get your ass over here. This is your team!” you shouted, glaring at him.

“No, you’re pissed, and you scare me more than Iwa-chan does!”

“Hey!” you both shouted, laughing.

“I’m not pissed, I’m irritated because I don’t know how I got roped into this,” you said. “Whatever, it’s not like I have anything else better to be doing.”

You glanced at the clock and grinned. 

“See you fools later, I have someone I need to meet. Tooru, I’ll be home late, there’s food in the fridge, Dad’s working over time, and Mom is working a double shift for one of the women on maternity, so they won’t be home. Takeru is coming tomorrow morning, don’t forget because I have to leave early.

“Haji, make sure he remembers Takeru, and please, for the love all things sacred to our family, do not let him watch any of those alien conspiracy shows he’s a nut-job for. The last time he did that he came into my room at three in the morning sobbing about corn probes or something,” you muttered, throwing your hair up into a knot on the top of your head.

“Stop airing my dirty laundry (Y/F/N)!” your brother cried, pouting.

“Shove it up your ass Tooru, this is my payback for you and Haji following me like angry fucking Pomeranians,” you told him, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you hurried out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were bumping a ball against the wall when Kyoutani walked in.

“Hey Blondie,” you said, catching the ball. “You’re late this time.” You paused when you saw his face. “You good?”

“The captain of the team I’m on came by earlier and wanted me to come back.”

“What did you tell him?” you asked, watching his face. “You said yes! Ha!” you cheered, throwing your arms around him. “I’m proud of you.”

It took a few moments of Kyoutani standing stiffly under your touch for you to realize what had happened.

You practically threw yourself against the opposite wall, cheeks burning. “Sorry, I do that with my brother sometimes. Anyway, I’m proud of you! This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

You could see the ‘but’ in his eyes.

“But?” you prompted.

“This means I have to stop seeing you.”

Your cheeks heated again and you gave a soft smile.

He looked so open about it. He was genuinely upset by the fact that he might not see you again.

“I mean, i-if you’re that worried about it, we could meet up on the weekends? We’ve rearranged our schedules before,” you told him.

Kyoutani shook his head, ears tinged pink again. “How about a date?”

“Are you serious? Is my brother hiding here somewhere? Haji maybe?”

“I . . . don’t think I know either of them,” he said, eyes wide in surprise. “If you don’t want to-”

“No!” you blurted, then winced. “I want to, go on a date with you I mean, but I’m just trying to make sure this isn’t a . . . a prank or something,” you admitted, glancing around, eyes alert. “I’m waiting for someone to post a video or something.”

“Do I really seem like the kind of guy to do that?”

“No, but I’ve learned not to trust people too much.”

“You trust me though,” he reminded you.

You sighed; he did have a point. “This isn’t some sick joke? You actually want to go out with me?”

“Yes?”

“Is it a question now?” you teased.

“No. I do want to go out with you.” He said it with so much conviction, it kind of surprised you. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes.”

You looked at each other for a few moments before you burst out laughing. Well, he was chuckling, but it was close enough.

“C’mon, let’s play,” you said, tossing him the ball.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“First official day as manager, are you nervous?” Tooru asked.

“No,” you said. “I know most of the boys, and I basically did the gig in middle school, so I think I’ll be all set.”

“You’ll be great Pip,” Haji said. He had called you Pipsqueak until you were a third year in middle school and Pip was something he had started calling you recently as a remembrance to that nickname, despite your numerous protests.

“You guys are acting like parents sending their child off to their first day of school, stop,” you said, shrugging your brother’s arm off your shoulders as you walked into the gym.

“Heads!” someone shouted and you immediately flinched and ducked your head. You turned to see the ball coming right towards you and you instinctively moved your hands into a setting posture, shooting it towards the ace position.

Silence followed as the boys stared at you.

“Pip, you alright?” Hajime asked, the first to break the silence.

“I’m fine Haji,” you muttered. “My brother isn’t the only setter in the family.”

“You can set?” Tooru asked, pure and genuine surprise lining his face as he looked at you.

“Tooru, I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t the only volleyball dork in the family,” you said, tying your hair up. “You also seem to forget that when you used to follow me around, I watched you and Haji. I also played with you guys, when you let me. You weren’t the only ones that liked to play. Let’s put it this way, you’re the sun, and I am the shadow caused from that light.”

“So poetic,” Tooru muttered.

“Tooru, I have to listen to your dramatic ass all the time, I also hear what you say at your games. I’m not a complete moron.” You paused. “Well, not all the time anyway.”

Someone nearby snorted, and you glanced around at his teammates.

“Just leave it be Tooru,” you told him. “Haji, don’t. Say. Anything,” you snarled, pointing at him.

“But-”

“No. We don’t talk about it,” you reminded him.

“Alrighty then, time to continue practice!” Tooru said, clapping his hands with that creepy grin he had around his teammates.

“Good God, he’s gonna be terrible, isn’t he?” you inquired, making Haji snort.

“You have no idea,” he muttered, falling in line with the rest of their team as practice started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was easy to get into a groove with your brothers’ team, easier than you would’ve thought, though it might’ve been because the job was easy to begin with.

“I never would’ve thought Oikawa-san would have a sister like you,” Yahaba admitted during a water break.

“What do you mean?” you inquired.

“I just mean that you seem a lot more like Iwaizumi-san than Oikawa-san.”

“I mean, those two followed me like hellhounds for as long as I can remember, I always liked hanging around Haji because I could ditch him whenever I wanted, I had to live with Tooru.”

“So, you’re . . . you’re really a setter?” Yahaba asked.

“Um, I guess? I’m not on a team or anything, but . . . yeah, I can do it,” you admitted. “And before you ask, no, it’s not because of my brother.”

“I . . . wasn’t gonna ask you that,” Yahaba said.

“Really? As soon as everyone finds out who my older brother is and that I set, they usually assume it’s because of my brother.”

“Being a setter means you learn to read people,” Yahaba said with a shrug. “You learn to apply that to real life too. You don’t seem like the kind of person that would do something just because your brother does it. You seem like the kind of person to do the opposite of what your brother would be doing, just to make him mad.”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “you’re not entirely wrong.”

He snorted on a laugh, making you smile.

“Any tips?” Yahaba asked. “I’m-”

“The reserve setter for my brother, I know,” you told him. “I’ve watched a lot of your games. You’re good, from what I’ve seen. The only tips I have for you are learn to read your teammates. Oh, and learn how to read the other team. Find cracks.

“Be like water and ice. Think of it like cracks in the sidewalk. That small crack gets bigger and bigger until something breaks. Find the cracks, slip in, and freeze. The more you melt and refreeze, the bigger the cracks get.”

“That’s actually a really good way of thinking about it,” Yahaba muttered. “Most people say ‘find the weak link’ or something.”

“Well, I like to think of it like this; the weak link won’t always break the chain. What if the weak link is the last link? Or the second to last? It weakens the chain, but the rest is still viable. Cracks spread until everything breaks.”

“Huh, I like that,” Yahaba said. “Thank you-” He paused, then said, “I feel weird calling you ‘Oikawa’.”

“You can call me (Y/F/N), it makes it easier,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, I don’t need other teams knowing that Tooru is my older brother anyway. And you don’t have to use an honorific,” you added. “It makes me feel like we’re in a business meeting.”

You shuddered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Yahaba laughed and you smiled at him.

“How come we haven’t hung out before now?” he inquired. “It just seems like we’d be good friends.”

You shrugged. “I mean, I don’t really trust anyone. Girls have been trying to use me to get to my brothers since I can remember, and a lot of the other people I know are terrified of them. More Haji than Tooru, but still.”

“So, you and Iwaizumi a thing or-?”

“If you’re asking me if we’re dating, or if there’s a mutual interest, the answer is a big fat no fucking way. I mean, I had a crush on him when I was like, eleven, but there’s no way we would work, even if I was interested. Besides, my brother would never let anything happen.”

Yahaba watched you for a moment before huffing, a small noise of contemplation.

“Alright guys water break’s over, time to try-”

Whatever Tooru was going to say was cut off by the gym doors opening, a boy walking through them.

He stood there for a moment, ripping a piece off of the bun he was eating as he stared down the team.

“Blondie?” you asked, slightly dazed.

His eyes snapped to you, and something in his eyes softened before the shock took over at seeing you standing in the Seijoh gym.

“Ah, Mad Dog-chan!” Tooru said, grinning at the blond boy, who immediately went on his guard.

“Tooru, stop messing with him,” you snapped.

“Tooru?” Kyoutani inquired, eyes narrowed as he watched the two of you.

“Surprise,” you muttered. “I suppose this means I have some things to explain, does it?”

“Care to explain (Y/F/N)?” Tooru asked, arms crossed.

“Why me?” you whimpered, glaring up at the fluorescent lights in the gym. You sighed, letting your shoulders slump. “Gather ‘round boys, it’s story time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mad Dog is dating my baby sister?” Tooru shouted, high pitched and whiney. 

Hajime hit him on the head and said, “Shut it Shittykawa.”

“Tooru, I am literally one,” you held up a single finger, “year younger than you, shut up. After this he might not even want to go out with me. And besides, this was bound to happen eventually. You can’t scare off every guy, you know. Pretty soon the two of you won’t even be around.”

You leaned against the wall, glaring at your brother.

You had just finished explaining how you had met Kyoutani at the community center one night, trying to get away from Tooru for some piece and quiet, how you had made a silent deal when you saw him trying to spike on his own, how you had gotten closer to him until he had asked you out the other night when Tooru had asked him to come back to the team.

“And I didn’t know she was your sister,” Kyoutani grunted, scowling even more than your brother and Haji combined.

“And that would have made a difference?” Tooru snapped, glaring at Kyoutani, who seemed surprised.

You didn’t blame him. It wasn’t often that your brother was serious about anything other than volleyball, and that seriousness was usually aimed at the other team’s players.

“He wouldn’t have touched me with a 400 foot pole if he had known I was your sister, if not for you then for Hajime,” you answered, trying to hide your wince. You had known that you would’ve had to tell Kyoutani eventually, especially if your date had gone well, but you hadn’t expected this.

“I feel like I’m watching a drama on TV,” Hanamaki muttered to Mattsun, who nodded.

“Fuck this,” you hissed. “Look,” you turned to Kyoutani. “That’s my brother and the bloodhound.” You turned to look at your brother. “That’s the guy I’ve been sneaking out to play volleyball with.” You looked up at the ceiling. “And this is why I don’t have any fucking friends.”

You sighed, running your hands over your hair, trying to keep your composure. You really didn’t need to lose it right here. “Just get back to practice,” you ordered. “We can talk about this later if it’s still an issue.”

“C’mon Loserkawa, we need to get back to practice,” Hajime said, and you shot him a grateful look.

“This isn’t over,” Tooru told you, a serious look on his face as he walked away.

“I am so massively fucked,” you muttered, holding you head in your hands. A small touch on your shoulder made you looked up to see Kyoutani standing there, looking concerned. “Just go practice,” you told him. “It’s okay.”

“I still wanna go out with you,” he said, pausing for a moment before he wandered away.

“Fuck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as the practice was over you were sliding your other shoes on, practically running from the gym.

Someone shouted at you, either Kyoutani or Hajime, but you weren’t listening. You wanted some time to think before you talked to anyone about this.

And I didn’t know she was your sister. 

Would it have made a difference if he knew I was his sister? Would he have even let me close if he’d known who I was? Probably not, based on how he reacted to my brother earlier. You thought miserably.

He had said that he wanted to go out with you still. Although that might have been because of all the people there. But . . . Kyoutani also wasn’t the kind of person to put up a show for someone else’s benefit.

You sighed, pulling your hoodie closer around you, trying to draw comfort from it as you wandered.

You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, you were just letting your feet carry you away from the gym and preferably your problems, even if that’s not how it worked.

You heard voices swimming around in your brain, but you didn’t think anything of it until someone’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, jerking you to a stop.

You were expecting Kyoutani or Haji, but there was a stranger holding your wrist in his hand.

“Can I help you?” you inquired.

“You can stop being a bitch and ignoring me,” the man retorted.

“Look dude, it’s been a long day for me, so I apologize if I’m a little spacey, but I have no clue who you are. I owe you absolutely nothing, so let me go.”

“I think not,” he replied. “I think you owe me for ignoring me.”

“Let me go,” you ordered, trying to wrench your wrist from his hand.

“No.”

“Look man, I am not in the mood for this bullshit, let me the go and walk away,” you snarled, tensing.

“I don’t think so bitch.”

“Call me a bitch again, I dare you, you pervy fucker,” you snapped.

“Let go of my girlfriend, you son of a bitch.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Kyoutani striding towards you both, rage evident on his already fierce features.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Her boyfriend,” Kyoutani snarled.

“And I’m her brother,” Hajime snapped, stepping into your line of sight, arms crossed over his chest.

“So, you wanna let me go now?” you asked, stepping on his foot and throwing an elbow into his face.

“You little bitch!” he cried, holding his nose, which was starting to drip red.

“Leave,” Kyoutani snarled, slipping his hand into yours softly, slowing tugging you behind him and Hajime. “Or you have to deal with us.”

The guy snarled, but he backed away, disappearing around a corner.

“What the fuck were you thinking (Y/F/N)?” Hajime snapped, turning to you.

Kyoutani didn’t even say anything, he just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his- very firm- chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his face in your neck.

“Hey Blondie, it’s okay, I’m fine,” you murmured, slowly wrapping your arms around him. “I’m fine,” you repeated, glancing at Haji, who had already pulled out his phone to call your brother.

“I should’ve been with you.”

“Kyoutani, it’s okay. I’m the one that left without telling you guys where I was going. Besides, like I said, I’m okay.”

He was tense beneath your fingers as you ran them over his back, trying to calm him down a little bit.

You heard your name from Haji and listened to what he was saying.

“-with Kyoutani, figured she’s in good hands.” He paused to listen to Tooru for a moment before he said, “Shut up Shittykawa. We need to leave her be. I’m coming back home.” He paused again. “We need to trust her Tooru.”

The use of your brother’s first name surprised you, but you figured they were still figuring their own shit out.

“Thank you,” you mouthed when Haji turned towards you again. He nodded, making sure you were alright silently before he headed home.

“Hey,” you murmured, carding your hands through Kyoutani’s hair. “Come on out and talk to me. The bloodhound is gone.”

“I should have been here with you,” he repeated.

“Kyoutani,” you ordered, moving your hands to cup his face, letting him balance out a little more of your weight as you forced him to look at you. “Talk to me.”

He simply stared at you for a moment before he laid his forehead against yours.

“You called me your girlfriend,” you blurted, and he tensed again. You gave a small giggle, kissing his cheek, making him blush. “Don’t get all shy now Kyoutani. Come on, just talk to me.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did to finding out that he was your brother. I should’ve handled it better. And I was . . . jealous of Iwaizumi-san.”

“Oh Kyoutani,” you said, giving him a small smile. “You never had any reason to be jealous of Haji. For one thing, he’s my other brother, you know that, and secondly, he’s interested in my brother, even if they haven’t figured that out yet.”

“I just . . . really like you. And it-” He stopped, scowling again.

“It scares you,” you finished. He nodded, making you smile. “You think it doesn’t scare me?”

“You just . . . seem so calm all the time. Even when you’re pissed.”

“I live with Tooru,” you said, enunciating each syllable. “I have to be calm. Look Kyoutani, if you want to go out with me- great! If not- oh well- but I hope we can be friends,” you told him.

“I do want to go out with you,” he practically shouted, wincing at his own volume. “Sorry things got lost in translation.”

“It’s okay, just talk to me next time. No sulky puppy, alright?” you demanded, flicking his forehead lightly.

He nodded, then scowled. “’M not a puppy.”

“Sure you aren’t,” you teased. “I think this is the most we’ve talked in the few months that we’ve known each other.”

Kyoutani snorted softly. “I was nervous around you.”

“What? Why?”

“You were this pretty, smart, funny setter. I was used to people avoiding me and being scared. You simply looked at me and smiled.”

“You’re a poet Blondie,” you teased. “C’mon, let’s head back, I think my brother might send out Haji again if I don’t get home soon. Besides, I like talking to you.”

Kyoutani nodded, but he made no move to unwrap his arms from around your waist.

“Or, we could stay here for a little bit,” you said and he grunted. “Okay, we can stay here. On one condition; you have to talk to me.”

“About?”

“Whatever. Everything, nothing, I don’t care. I just want to know you.”

So he talked.

A/N: This is very unrealistic, but whatever. It’s also like, 12:40 in the morning on my end of things and I haven’t slept well lately, so ignore any errors or any imperfections within this imperfection. Stay safe out there my lovelies!

#kyoutani x reader #oikawa tooru x hajime iwaizumi #iwaoi #brother oikawa #kentarou x reader #kyoutani kentarou x oikawa reader #fluff #little bit of angst

[cupiiid]

rainy days - three shorts following our favourite duos

1. chris and ginny

"This stuff feels sticky." Ginny whined.

"Don't be so dramatic, Gin," Chris sighed, amused. Unable to contain herself, Ginny betrayed her act with a grin. Chris just smiled and continued to apply the creme eyeshadow to her girlfriend. "You do this all the time already, you're an actress."

"I know, I'm just messing with you." They were at Chris' house, her parents were out in a business trip so she was left alone for a few days. As soon as they left, Chris called Ginny over for a sleepover and started to give her a makeover to practice her skills.

"Allllright," Chris dragged out. "all done." She held up a mirror to Ginny, letting her see how she looked.

"Woah," She breathed. Chris had transformed her entire face into some mythical being, a new interest of her's ever since she saw Midsummer. "I look really good"

"You always look really good." Chris commented. Ginny met her eyes and they sat there, just watching each other intently until Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to Chris' gently, hands snaking up to her face. They broke apart for a second before Chris wrapped her hands around Ginny's waist and kissed her harder. They sat, making out for a little while, Ginny moving to sit in Chris' lap when a strike of lightening broke them apart, Ginny shooting up and letting out a little yelp. Chris snorted with laughter.

"Shut up," Ginny said laughing, hitting Chris in her shoulder.

"I think it's raining." Ginny got up off of Chris and helped her up, the two of them walking to the window to see buckets of rain falling in the late afternoon. They grinned and looked at each other. "You know what this means?" Ginny asked.

"Scary movie night?"

"Scary movie night." She confirmed.

Almost and hour later, the girls were cuddling on the couch with popcorn more than half way through Dracula. "I remember when this movie came out." Chris commented idly, her head on Ginny's lap.

"Oh yeah, you saw that with Chet, didn't you."

"I did. How do you know that?"

"I remember being really jealous of him." Chris lifted her head up off of her lap and sat up.

"You have nothing to be jealous of."

"Yeah, I know that now, but did you think I did back then?"

"Let me rephrase that. You never had anything to be jealous of. It was always you." Ginny smiled and pulled Chris in for a kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Gin. Always."

Let's just say neither of them payed attention to the rest of the movie that night...

2. neil and todd

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Neil spoke. He and Todd were laying on his bed. Neil was reading him Hamlet as they lay tangled together on top of the sheets. Neil on his back with Todd's head on his chest listening to both his voice and Neil's heart beating in his chest.

"Have I ever told you how much I love it when you read Shakespeare?" Todd hummed dreamily. Neil huffed a laugh.

"All the time, love." He said, pressing a kiss to Todd's head.

"Good." It was a cold day at Welton, the boys had their radiator on high and relied on their lamps for light, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere. Neil kissed his head once again and just before he could continue reading, a crack of lightening sounded from outside. Todd got up quickly and practically ran to the window.

"Are you afraid of lightening?" Neil asked his boyfriend. Todd shook his head.

"No, I love it. It looks like a storm's coming." He turned to Neil. "What's the time?"

"Uh," He checked his watch. "around four." Todd looked at him in anticipation. "...What?"

"Can we go outside?" Neil sighed, weighing the options in his head. Carpe diem, he thought.

"Why not? We just have to be back by five so we can get changed before dinner." Todd grinned so wide Neil could see all of his teeth. He pulled him off the bed and have him a quick kiss before darting out the door, daring Neil go follow. Oh, how much he's changed, he thought happily before running after Todd.

By the time they made it far enough into the woods they wouldn't be seen, they were completely and utterly soaked, hair laying flat on their heads like helmets, jumpers heavily hanging off them. Neither could find it in themselves to care. Todd was spinning around in the rain, arms out, head back to feel the drops on his face. Neil ran up behind him and wrapped him up in a hug, arms circling his waist. Todd hummed happily and turned in Neil's arms, putting his own around Neil's shoulder, pressing their foreheads together.

They swayed gently to the imaginary music, spinning each other occasionally. Neither of them had ever been so happy. Both slow and needy kisses were exchanged in the rain that day. "I'm so glad I met you." Todd spoke. "Don't know where I would be without you."

"Get used to it Todd, because I'm not going anywhere."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

3. charlie and cameron

Charlie burst into his and Cameron's shared dorm room with a bang. "Jesus, Charlie. I'm trying to study. Do you have any respect for others?"

"Of course not. You've known me for years now, how did you forget that?" Cameron sighed and put down his pencil.

"What us it?"

"I'm going to cut right to the chase, my ginger friend-

"Don't call me that"

"-I need your help to get back at Hopkins."

"Why? What has he done?" Charlie sighed dramatically and flopped back on his bed. Cameron stared at him from his place at his desk.

"He ruined my prank on Hager by accidentally spilling the beans to him. Got me detention for a month as well as fifteen rounds with the paddle." Cameron cringed. He hated it when Charlie got beaten even if he'd never admit it.

"Then stop pranking maybe?" He faintly heard the sound of lightning outside. Neither of them payed it much attention.

"You're no fun."

"Hey," he said, putting up his hands in surrender. "you came in here and for my help." Charlie groaned.

"Only out of necessity. Trust me, I don't want to."

"Okay then, why not go find one of the others. Neil perhaps?" He said, starting to go back to his homework.

"Everyone else is busy doing something. You're the only one that's not."

"I'm literally doing homework."

"Yeah, like I said. Nothing." When Cameron didn't relent, Charlie begged. "Pleeeease, Cameron." He whined.

"What's in it for me, Dalton?" He finally gave in, dropping his pencil once again and turning to Charlie who only grinned.

"I solemnly swear to not tease you for two whole weeks. No pranks, no making fun of you." Cameron thought about it for a second. It really wasn't that great of a deal but he had been doing homework for hours now...

"Fine."

So that's how Richard Cameron ended up in this situation, distracting Hopkins as Charlie snuck into his room and put itching powder in his clothes drawer. This was so much more of a Neil job, if only he wasn't spending time with his boyfriend. (that's right, he knew about them. the boys often underestimated him. he was much more observant than they realised) Cameron couldn't converse for shit. "What did you need me for, Cameron?"

"Oh, uh, I... needed advice for the test on Monday! Yes, that's it." He lied (terribly). Hopkins gave him a quizzical look.

"You want my help on the test." Shit. He only realised how stupid that sounded now. "Did you hit your head or something?" Just as he was going to come up with another shitty lie, Charlie appeared behind Hopkins' shoulder, giving him a thumbs up.

"Um- you know what? Never mind." And sped off behind him, leaving Hopkins dumbfounded.

He caught up to Charlie who was whooping with laughter. "He's in for a surprise later on. What lie did you tell him?"

"Uh," He stammered. "I may have asked him for help on the chem test on Monday..." Charlie stood still for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You asked Hopkins for help?"

"Um... Yes?" They stood still for another moment before Charlie burst out in laughter. Cameron couldn't help the giggles that came out of his own lips at the sheer absurdity of the lie.

"Oh my god-" He gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Shut up! I was put on the spot, okay?" That just made Charlie laugh harder and out his arm around his shoulders, walking through the halls.

"Maybe I should bring you on these more often."

"No." Charlie paused for a moment.

"Y'know, maybe you're not as much of a stick-in-the-mud as I thought." Cameron smiled.

"Maybe you're not as idiotic as I thought." They came to a window and saw it was pouring outside. Charlie looked at the rain, them back at Cameron. He tagged him quickly on the arm before running to the door that led out to the courtyard. "Tag! You're it!" Cameron smirked devilishly before following him out into the rain.

"Oh you're on, Dalton!"

#i got inspiration from the weather here in australia rn #charlie and cameron is written as platonic but you can read it however u want #hope you enjoyed :) #dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #charlie dalton #dps #chris noel #ginny danbury #richard cameron

[soft-for-them]

Shrapnel ♡ Mission Impossible x reader

Anon 🐛: Hello! If possible, I’d like to request a platonic IMF team x fem reader, where reader gets injured somehow on a mission and the team tries to help patch her up but she’s extremely self-conscious and keeps refusing to let them remove an item of clothing for better access to the wound or something (eventually giving in, of course). Hope you have a great day! :)

I’m going for the ethan, benji, luther and ilsa team because they are my favourite IMF team so I guess this is set after fall out. Female reader. injury mentioned.

Proof read, edited and remastered on 20.10.2021

The mission was supposed to be a small one but all of the team had gotten injured somehow making the small job a lot harder. 

Sure, the gang you and the team were tasked to take down weren’t a threat to the whole wide world like the Syndicate and August Walker, which was your first ever field mission with the IMF, a mission that cemented you as a permanent member of the team. However, now you, Benji and Ilsa stand out of breath and waiting for either Luther to drive up in the get away car or for Ethan to somehow ‘save the day’ like he always seems to do.

The IMF team has successfully defeated the rouge gang but in the process the building behind you in burning up like fireplace from the explosion that was caused moments ago.

Benji and Ethan were closest to the impact of the bomb without being in direct contact with the flames but you had pulled Benji out the way of a window that had shattered from the fire causing a slight pain in your torso.

The both of you have assumed that Ethan had survived like he always does so all you need to do now is wait.

“Hurry up, hurry up.” Benji mutters to himself as Ilsa tries to treat a gash on his arm and the scratches adorned his face. The blonde man winces as she ties his arm up with the remnants of non burnt bits of his jacket.

“You’re lucky that (y/n) pulled you away when she did.” both Ilsa and Benji give you a thankful smile, “You could have been pierced in the gut by some shrapnel or be burnt alive but the fire.”

“I should have stayed at my desk job.” You chuckle at the two agents as Benji starts swatting Ilsa’s hands away from his arm.

“Same here!” Benji jokes for he knows what it’s like to be pulled from your desk job to an action packed agent life.

You laugh some more but not because you find it particularly funny, you do always joke with Benji about stuff like that but you’re not laughing because of that. No, you’re laughing for you feel a stinging pain in your side and you’re trying to hide your pain.

When you had pulled Benji from the explosion you had gotten hit too. Sure, you thought it was just some cuts and lots of inhaling of black smoke but as you hunch down further you realise that the shrapnel might of hit you instead of Benji.

All the adrenaline and the fact that you haven’t looked down at your now bleeding side means that the pain isn’t as bad as it will become.

“(Y/n) are you ok?” the concerned voice of Benji calls out to you, the sweet man’s concern for you making you look up with a small smile.

“I just-“ what do you say to him? Do you lie to them both? Can you even lie to them? “I’m still out of breath from all the running and smoke Benji.”

Your voice is hoarse from the smoke and you’re face looks fine but not convinced by your act Ilsa gets up to check over you.

 Thankfully for you she is interrupted by Luther pulling up in a four door green family car one a mother would driver her kid into school.

“Where’s Ethan!?!” he shouts concern in his voice.

A mixture of Benji, Ilsa and you answering is heard, all saying around about the same thing of ‘he got away!’ satisfies the hat wearing agent for now.

Ilsa tries to help you up to the car but you brush her off and make her go to Benji who is wobbling around like a newborn deer. With a prolonged inhale of now clean air you shuffled to the car, opening one of the side doors to clamber into.

Ilsa and Benji take the seats furthers to the back of the six seater car and you flop across the middle seats, leaving Luther on his own in the front of the car.

“Ahhhh!” you exhale with a small scream like sound which gets everyone’s attention on you.

“You’re not ok (L/n)!” Ilsa shouts about to climb over into the middle seats.

“I’m fine my lungs just hurt from the smoke!” technically that’s a half truth but really the pain is from wound trickling blood down your side.

Ilsa is interrupted once more by a small flash of Ethan Hunt running up near the family car windows.

Such a small man can run too fast.

With all your strength you lean up and open the sliding door for Ethan to jump in. The small man catapults himself next to you in the little space you’ve left. His hair is singed by the fire and his face is covered in sweat and ash but he climbs over into the passenger seat next to Luther just fine.

“Of course you survived!” Benji calls out half jokingly half in relief. 

The blur of Ethan and Luther talking lulls you into a sleepy state, the pain of your side almost disappearing. However, you’re snapped out of your sleepy trance but the ever so slightly frantic voice of Ilsa. 

“Luther drive quicker!” She frantically says as she finally scales over the seat to you.

You’re too out of it to move your legs so the woman basically lifts them up like you’re a child hogging the sofa. With worry she looks at your side which is less dark blur from you coat but more rich purple from the blood imbedding into the fabric.

“Damn, she was hit by the blast hard!” Ilsa sounds panicked as your try to keep your eyes open.

It’s all a blur but you see Benji pass the medical kit to her and you feel Luther picking up speed in the small minivan. 

”Why didn’t you tell me?” Ilsa says as she tries to lift up your coat and shirt.

“No.” you push her away, “It isn’t bad.”

“Have you looked at it (y/n)?” Benji asks which you reply with a shake of the head.

“I was- I was runnin-“ you start to disconnect with the world, slurring your words as your eyes begin to close.

“Stay with me (L/n).” Ilsa says as she tries to lift your shirt.

“Nooooo, you’ll see my body.” you whine in your out of it state self, the words turning into nothing as you drift away.

You look over to your dear friend Benji, who you always joke with your blurry eyes seeing a man near to crying.

“Benji. Imma ok, I don’t feel it that much.”

Ilsa tries again to lift your shirt which by any rate will be most blood if you don’t let her lift it soon.

“Ilsa no… I don’t want you to see my body, I hate it…” you gasp.

In any given time you wouldn’t of been so truthful but maybe the lack of blood or the humming feeling of tiredness has turned off you thinking.

“You are beautiful but you will be less beautiful if you bleed to death.” With her normally stoic facade down she starts to plea with you, “Please (y/n), let me help!”

“…Huh, uh, as long as the men in this vehicle look away.” you slur as the pain starts to get slightly worse.

All of the men look away from you; Benji sitting back down in his seat, Ethan fiddling with hidsen gun and Luther looking back to the road.

Ilsa takes your top layers off showing the bit of glass digging out of your side blood making you (colour) skin deep red. You look down to see just how bad the injury is only to feel a huge wave of pain drown you and the urge to pass out.

“Looking at it makes it worse.” Ilsa says as she applies pressure to wound without taking the large bit of glass out.

“We’re almost here!” Luther calls as he magically slides the car under a closing garage door, he carries on driving to a lower level where he stops the car and he immediately gets out to help you along with the rest of the IMF.

“No looking at my bra!” you whine as Luther slides open the door closets to your head, Ilsa making sure you don’t fall backwards.

“We’re looking at that thing in your side (y/n) not you boobs!” Benji jabbers is in a flurry as he tries and help with you.

Ilsa and Luther get you out and lead you to a door, which Benji opens, Ethan not far behind talking to someone on the phone.

“We have an agent who need urgent medical treatment!” he urges as you hobble with Luther and Ilsa inside.

.

.

It has now been a month since your injury and the ragged piece of glass than had scared your side in now displayed on your desk, a reminder that you’re lucky that you aren’t dead.

For the last most since then Benji has been acting like an overprotective best friend telling you that you shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are along with some dad jokes sprinkled in to make you smile.

Luther and Ethan have been more concerned about your health and healing but you still got a talking to from the men about how the IMF don’t judge anyone for what they look like. (That conversion was mostly from Ethan and Luther nodding his head in the background.)

You’re still in shock about how much Ilsa had cares for you. She had called you by your first name and she had also called you beautiful, a thing she had never done before that day.

Even now in-between missions as you sit behind a desk you’ll get a short and sweet text from her asking how your are.

You stretch out in you spinny chair with a relieved sigh. 

There’s still a long way to go with excepting your body but with all that had happened to you feel more comfortable with yourself and the IMF team.

.

.

.

Edit: Proof reading may still be off because I’m tired, still love Benji and Ilsa.

Old description:

Did i write this right after i got the request? yes, but i don’t know how good this is. it’s too late for all this writing but i did it!

also i want to write an ilsa x plus size reader and/or a benji x plus size reader because i love them both! (i get gay panic for ilsa and i just find benji adorable!)

#mission impossible #mission impossible x reader #ethan hunt x reader #benji dunn x reader #ilsa faust x reader #luther stickell #ilsa faust #benji dunn #ethan hunt #x female reader #x tall reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x poc reader #x petite reader #x ftm reader #tw blood #tw injury

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

Femdom Universe - Part 1

Hello loves! 

This series will be ??? parts long but all fics should be able to be read as standalone. This universe will mostly follow around Yennefer though it will focus on other characters in the universe at times! I have a few more parts drafted out and idk how long they will take me to post but they’re coming.

This is Geralt/Yennefer in a modern AU, Yen in a Pro-Domme, Geralt is one of her established clients.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, cock cage, discussions of orgasm denial, mentions of spanking, praise kink, subspace, no actual sex, soft domme Yen, just generally all around very soft

-

Yennefer opened the door and smiled at the man before her, Geralt had been a client of hers for well over a year at this point and in that time had also become a good friend. Her first client after moving to the city and her first real friend in much longer.

She turned on her heel, her dressing gown flowing out behind her, and stalked over to the seating area, making herself comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs.

Geralt followed behind her at a sedated pace.

"You're late." She said simply once he had settled on the couch across from her.

"There was an emergency at work. Got held up."

Yennefer blinked slowly, unimpressed.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll call if it happens again."

Yennefer raised a well-manicured eyebrow.

Geralt sighed, "When it happens again."

Yennefer nodded, satisfied with his response. She knew his job was a priority, and very demanding. It was why he had first began experimenting with submission, needing to let go, not be forced to be responsible and in control all the time. But just because she understood didn't mean that he had an excuse to not communicate when he would be late.

"Now," she began, taking a sip of water, "you mentioned last night that you thought of some last-minute changes to the scene? Something new you wanted to try?"

Geralt blushed and nodded.

Yennefer wouldn't normally allow last minute changes that added new elements, much preferring the chance to talk with her clients about it and making sure they were making a fully informed choice, but she had worked with Geralt long enough to trust he had done his research.

And most likely had sat on this idea for weeks, probably months, before feeling brave enough to suggest it.

She was confident that he would ask questions if he had them and be honest with her if things weren't going well.

"Alright so what are you thinking?"

Geralt's blush deepened.

Even despite the year they had spent together having regular sessions, the man was still one of the most bashful people Yennefer had ever met.

"You mentioned once… putting me in a… cage. And I said I would think about it. And I have. And I want to… try it."

Yennefer smirked, "You think you're ready to try a cock cage?"

Geralt nodded.

"Use your words, love."

"Yes, Yen. I'm ready to try the cock cage."

"Perfect. I already have a couple purchased I thought you might like. Now, will you want it left on through the whole scene, or will you want me to release you and give you relief?"

Geralt grunted, his face a lovely pink color.

"Geralt, do you want to cum or do you want me to deny you."

"Deny me."

"If you end up getting aroused and you cum, do you want a punishment?"

Geralt shook his head and cleared his throat, "No… just… maybe some disappointment?"

Yennefer smiled, "Alright then. We can keep the rest of the scene as planned but add a cage and deny your orgasm, correct?"

"Yes. That's what I want."

"Perfect. Go on back and get comfortable. Kneel by the bed when you're ready. I'll have to go get the cages for you to choose from, but I'll be back shortly."

Cages weren't something she was sure Geralt would ever be interested in and she couldn't deny feeling thrilled he was willing to try her with this, to trust her.

-

Yennefer watched happily as Geralt's eyes beamed with interest as they looked over the cages. His eyes kept travelling back to the silver one. The other one, a black plastic one with a more detailed shaping, just didn't seem to be catching his eye. He traced the rings on the silver one with his gaze and Yennefer smiled.

"This one?" Yennefer asked, holding up the silver one in her hand.

"Yes." His voice already sounded wrecked and they hadn't even done anything yet.

"Yes what, darling?"

Geralt glanced up to meet Yennefer's gaze before quickly affixing his eyes to his lap, "Yes, Mistress."

Yennefer hummed happily, "Well done, darling. Now get on the bed and lie back, let's get this on you."

Geralt scrambled on the bed, his muscles shifting attractively.

Geralt was certainly the most attractive man Yennefer had ever worked with, possibly the most attractive person she had ever worked with, even.

And one of the best at following orders.

He laid back quickly, shifting into the position she always had him take with ease. His arms were relaxed and by his sides, his hands resting next to his thighs which were parted just enough Yennefer could slide between them easily.

He made a pretty picture.

Yen crawled onto the bed demurely, dressed in an elegant silken robe, and settled between his thighs, rubbing his right thigh comfortingly.

His cock began to stir.

"No, no, none of that. Let's get this cage on before we can't, shall we?"

Geralt nodded at Yennefer's question.

"Alright, love, your word and the rules and we'll get started."

"My safe word is unicorn and if I say it, everything stops, and we immediately move to after care. If I can't say my word, I squeeze your upper arm."

"Excellent work, darling. Now let's get started." She held a key out for Geralt to take with a tentative hand, "There is a key in the packaging, there by your head, and this is the other. Once I lock you up, you can keep the key if you prefer, or you can entrust it to me. It's your choice and I don't mind either way."

Geralt nodded, holding the key tightly.

Yennefer quickly slipped the base of the toy down, the ring fitting snuggly against the base of his cock and wrapping behind his balls.

She gave Geralt's cock a teasing stroke, making him suck in a sharp breath, before slipping on the cage, applying a gentle pressure until the base met the cage and she could lock the two together. She snapped the lock closed and looked up at Geralt with a smile, "All done."

Wordlessly, Geralt held the key out for her to take which she did with a gentle smile gracing her features. His trust was a heady thing to have and she was thrilled to have it.

She placed the key in a small pouch in the pocket of her robe for safe keeping and looked back up at Geralt.

Yennefer traced her hands up and down Geralt's thighs, admiring the way the muscles jumped under her touch.

"Hmm… you look excellent splayed out for me like this, love. Now, I'm going to play with you to my heart's content, and you aren't allowed to cum."

When Geralt had first come to her, he hadn't been particularly comfortable with giving up control and he had hated being doted on like this, her hands and eyes on him, appreciative.

Now, he shivered in delight with every pass of her hands.

She straddled his thigh and ran her hands up his hips, skirting just around where his cock lay, growing hard within its cage, tracing her hands up his abdomen, focusing on the hard lines and ridges.

Businessmen didn't normally look like Geralt, muscles built upon muscles, a beautifully trim waist that led up to deliciously thick shoulders.

Geralt's breathing was growing more and more shallow as she continued touching him, going slightly higher on his abdomen before trailing her fingertips back down to his hips and working her way back up. His cock twitched as best it could in the weight of the cage and Geralt rolled his hips.

Yennefer quickly pressed her hands flat against his hips, leaning her weight against them, "I didn't tell you, you could move, did I?"

Geralt whimpered and shook his head.

Yennefer pinched him on the hip, "What was that?"

"No, Mistress."

"You want to be good for me, don't you, Geralt?"

A whine, "Yes, Mistress."

"Then stay still, darling. Bad boys don't get what they want."

Geralt had shown early on he didn't particularly enjoy pain or punishments, not that he would have needed them often, he was eager to please, eager to receive praise. Although, he had always been rather fond of a good spanking.

But not this session, he simply wanted to lose himself and enjoy Yennefer's power over him, caring for him.

Geralt's hands clinched by his sides and he nodded, "Yes, Mistress. I'll be good."

"Good boy," Yennefer purred, moving her hands up his body to tweak his nipples in reward, making him moan loudly.

"That's right darling, let me hear you. You make the prettiest noises."

And so her hands continued tracing delicate patterns on his body, holding tightly around his throat for only a moment, just long enough to make his eyes go glassy with need, before focusing once again on his chest.

Yennefer wasn't sure how long she spent worshiping him with her fingers before finally, "Turn over, darling."

Geralt didn't hesitate to follow orders though his movements were slow and languid, the way he always got when he slipped into a submissive space. He settled on his stomach and Yennefer moved to straddle his waist, rubbing at his neck and shoulders. Despite how relaxed he was, the tension he carried was deep and no matter her efforts, Yennefer had never truly been able to get all the knots out.

"Would you like a massage, darling?" She asked softly, not wanting to jar him with any pain it might cause.

"No, Mistress."

Yennefer hummed, happy he was willing to communicate his wants when at one time she thought she would have to stop working with him because of how hard communication was for him.

She continued tracing his back until his breathing had evened out. She knew he wasn't asleep but he was certainly out of it. It had been at least an hour since they had begun so she decided that it was time to start bringing Geralt back.

With some soft words and touches, she got him situated on his side so she could slide in behind him, spooning him delicately.

"Geralt," she whispered, "are you hear with me, love?"

He nodded softly.

"Would you like to nap?"

Another nod.

“Do you want to take the cage off now? Or wait?”

“Wait,” Geralt whispered.

"Is this position alright?"

Geralt didn't respond for a moment before finally rolling over slowly in her arms until he could cuddle up to her side, pillowing his head softly on her breast, "Did I do well, Mistress?"

"Excellent darling. You were such a good boy for me."

Geralt smiled sleepily, his eyes already closed, and Yennefer held him gently while he drifted off to sleep.

-

Check out my masterlist!

 Tag list: @stinastar​​​ @feraljaskier​​​ @bastardofmothman​​​ @hailhailsatan​​​ @moonysourenza​​​ @its-onions​​​ @elliestormfound​​​ @dapandapod​​​ @jaskierswolf​​​ @fontegagrilledcheese​​​ @negativenuggetz​​ @veritasrose​​ @feral-jaskier​​ @kozkaboi​​ @kueble​​ @llamasdumpsterfire​​ @selectivegeekwithstandards​​ @dani-dandelino

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #fanfiction #dom/sub #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #geralt/yennefer #yenralt #praise #soft soft soft stuff

[y2fandom]

Spanish. — Diego Hargreeves

Summary: Diego decides to help (Y/N) after seeing her struggle with Spanish at the library.

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: Gosh it's been like, a million years since I wrote something pls go easy on me but feel free to tell me what you think feedback is always welcomed! (Also i lowkey based this of Sunrise from In The Heights so listen to it if you wanna)

I tried adding a read more but i don't have a computer so,,, yeah don't hate me if you come across this in your dash

—

Diego didn't frequent the library. He was honestly more of an action person than a sit-down-for-hours-reading person but he'd been stuck on a case and figured a little bit of background information wouldn't hurt. He'd come to find out not everything could be found out interrogating people on shady alleys. 

He just needed to use the computers, there was a very slim chance books would have the information he needed.

Diego went to turn on the machine when something stopped him. 

A groan. A deep and miserable groan followed by what sounded like thuds against wood.

Diego furrowed his eyebrows. He wouldn't have really minded if the noise hadn't come from directly in front of him. He stood up from the uncomfortable library chair to peer over the computer. 

There was a table on the other side and a lady had her forehead pressed against the wood. Diego would've thought she was asleep if he didn't witness with his own two eyes how she resumed banging her head against the table. It was a wonder how her book stayed propped while the furniture moved.

It wasn't his business, but he'd caught the cover of the book by mere chance. Spanish 101.

"¿Necesitas ayuda?" What was he doing? He just needed some information and that was it, yet here he was talking to a stranger. Selfish motivations, he told himself, I only want her to stop the noise so I can concentrate.

The lady rose her head. Her hair was disheveled from her previous attempts at becoming one with the table. She looked cute, if not a bit confused. She looked at Diego. 

He repeated his question. 

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I– sí."

Diego approached her table, slightly cringing to himself at how he looked. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in at least a week and he was dressed in all black. Not exactly a comforting sight.

"Name's Diego," he said, suddenly feeling awkward as she glanced up at him, "I saw you struggling with Spanish?" 

She nodded, a shy smile creeping on her face. "I'm (Y/N), sorry if i disturbed you with my suffering, I know it's a library and you expect silence-"

Diego chuckled. "What made you want to learn Spanish?" 

"I just wanted to learn a new language I figured it would be useful…" she trailed off, before adding under her breath, "if only it wasn't this hard."

Diego smiled. "I could help you, it's my mother tongue," or it would be, he added in his mind.

(Y/N) perked up at his suggestion. "You would do that?" 

Diego nodded, ignoring the thoughts about work and information. He could afford to help someone who needed him. Work could wait. 

She motioned for him to sit down.

"What are you having trouble with?" 

(Y/N) let out a humorless laugh. "Just about everything really."

"Do you know how to introduce yourself?" 

She bit her lip for a second before nodding, "Mi nombre es (Y/N), uh, soy (age)-" 

"Tengo."

"Right, tengo (age) años, me gusto aprender-"

"Me gusta."

She nodded, surprising Diego. He'd expected her to be annoyed or to ask for a different method.  Instead, she took his corrections in stride, applying them without any protest. "Me gusta aprender y conocer nuevas personas," 

Diego nodded. "You're very good, actually."

A pinkish tone dusted her cheeks. "You think so? I feel like I still have a long way to go and vocab is so hard-" 

"I'm a little busy right now," the way she seemed to deflate at that made him feel a pang of guilt, "but i can help you study some other time?" 

She brightened up again at the suggestion.  "Yes! That would be perfect!" 

"Do you have a number?" 

She handed him a small piece of paper after writing in it. "Call me when you can Diego." 

《 . . . 》

“No English?” 

Diego nodded. He was trying to stay serious but her shocked expression made the corners of his mouth twitch. “No ingles.” 

She whined. “But–” The look he gave her made her reconsider her wording, “pero Diego.” 

“No buts.” He gave her a look. “The best way to learn is to practice.” 

“Apesta,” she huffed. 

“Esto apesta.” he corrected, a smug smile in his face in response to her pout. 

“Bueno,” She sighed after a small silence, “I won't change your mind, right?” 

“¿Qué?”

“I won't-”

“No hablo inglés,” he deadpanned.

(Y/N) glared at him. “Tú hablas inglés." 

He smiled at her, proud that he didn't need to correct her. “Si hablo inglés.” 

“Tú eres el peor," she groaned. And he was the worst, but he didn't care if he got to make her smile and learn.

“You still like me that way,” he teased. 

Her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink but before he could comment on it her eyes gained a determined glint. "Quiz me." 

Diego ignored her blatant disrespect of the rules he'd set. "Are you ready?"

(Y/N) nodded. "Creo." 

"Esquina?"

"Corner."

"Tienda?" 

"Store."

"Bombilla?"

"Lightbulb."

"Are you sure?" 

She bit her lip, but nodded anyways. "I'm sure."

Diego smiled. "All correct."

(Y/N) mirrored him and smiled also, standing up in a swift motion. Yet whatever she had planned on doing was stopped by her phone ringing.

She gave him a quick glance before picking up. A few affirmative hums later she set her phone down. (Y/N)’s apologetic smile made his heart sink.

“Tengo que ir.” She seemed reluctant and it made Diego wish he had the words to convince her to stay. Instead, he said:

“Irme." 

(Y/N) huffed, but the smile threatened to return to her face. “See you later, Diego." 

And then she hugged him. Diego felt breathless for a second. She had never hugged him but she was doing it now. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. She was warm and smelled so sweet it made him want to never let go. Then, too soon it was over. (Y/N) pulled away taking the warmth with her.

She smiled up at him. “Hasta luego, Diego.” 

Diego watched her walk away.  wondering how she had managed to take with her the warmth of the embrace but not the fluttering feeling on his stomach.

《 . . . 》 

The sound of books being set on the table made Diego snap his head up. (Y/N) was wearing the biggest smile he'd seen on her and it made his stomach flutter. 

"Hola Diego," she said, her voice sweeter and lighter than usual. Every syllable made his heart do somersaults. 

"Hey."

"I have good news," she sing-songed, setting herself on the chair across him, "buenas noticias." 

Diego nodded, letting her continue. 

"He asked me out," she whisper-yelled, her eyes shining. 

Being the receiver of that look full of warmth didn't help Diego; he froze. "Wuh..?" 

(Y/N) pretended to hit her head. "Cierto," she said, "Remember I told you I had joined a class? To practice Spanish even more?" 

Diego nodded, he'd felt slightly hurt when she had announced it. It felt like he wasn't enough. But instead of saying that Diego had smirked and told her she had taken long enough. 

"Ok so, there's this guy in class, who I'm really into, his name is Marcus." The way she breathed his name felt like he was being stabbed with his own knives. "He's one of the most advanced people in the class and kind of the reason why I've wanted to improve so much in these last few weeks…" 

Diego felt like she'd just punched him on the gut. All this time a small part of him had harbored the hope she was doing so good because he was teaching her, not because she was pushing herself to be good for someone else. He looked down to his coffee before nodding at her again. 

"And now he's invited me on a date," she squealed, her smile growing bigger, "una cita." 

He nodded again. "That's, uh, that's really cool." 

Her smile softened. "¿Eres bien?"

"Estas." He corrected teasingly. Diego nodded. "Estoy cansado. I've been, uh, working late this last few days." 

Her mouth parted in a "o" shape, the same way it did any time he mentioned his vigilante work. (Y/N) looked at him with a serious gentleness that reminded him of how Grace looked at him when he was younger. "You need to take better care of yourself, Diego, please." 

How could he say no to her pleading eyes? Diego nodded. Getting ready to start their study session when his radio made a hissing noise. He glanced to (Y/N) and found her already looking at him. She nodded him to go. 

“It's important.” she reassured him in a hasty hug. "We can study later, go save em." 

He wanted to hate the way her voice made him giddy, he wanted to hate how he did a better job this time to make her proud of him, he wanted to hate that she had a date; but he couldn't. Diego was happy for her.

《 . . . 》

Diego waited in the agreed meeting spot. He cringed at himself at how fast he'd arrived, (Y/N) wasn't even there yet. He wanted to convince himself he wasn't far from the area but in reality, it was just that something seemed off. (Y/N)s voice had wavered a little when she'd called. 

The sound of a parking car caught his attention and he looked at it until someone came out of it. (Y/N).

His heart’s first instinct was to leap and his stomach burst in a million butterflies. She looked stunning. Diego firmly believed she looked good in anything but the way her outfit made her look almost made his jaw touch the ground. That was before he noticed her expression.

She smiled sadly at him, her watery eyes reflecting the lights of the street. It was almost like she could see him realize. 

“Hey.” 

“Are you okay?” Diego asked, concern thickly coating his tone.

(Y/N) went to nod but stopped herself. She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

Diego reached for her, engulfing her in a hug. “You can tell me."

(Y/N) was silent for a second and then, "how do you say pain?" 

Diego felt like she had a hand on his heart and she was slowly squeezing. "Dolor." 

"Tonight?"

"Esta noche."

She hesitated. "Stood up?"

Anger started to simmer underneath Diego's skin. "Plantada?" 

(Y/N) nodded against his chest. She look him in the eyes. the way the streetlight caught her tears made all the anger evaporate and be replaced by anguish. Who could've done something so rude to her?

She must've been able to read his expression because she said, "Marcus, he didn't show up." 

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

She laughed a little but there was no mirth behind the sound. "It's okay, it's not your fault." She sniffed, not bothering to pretend she wasn't crying. "It's lame but it hurts because I wanted him to love me—"

"Perhaps I do…"

Her eyes widened. "Diego?"

"Lo siento, (Y/N). I have feelings for you and i know it's not the time but I just wanted to tell you because it hurts seeing you feel unloved and-"

And she kissed him. Just a small, almost-on-the-lips-but-not-quite peck. (Y/N) giggled at his shocked face. 

"I like you, Diego."

Diego stuttered trying to find the right words to express what he was feeling at the moment. Nothing seemed to come out. Instead, he leaned over her and kissed her forehead. 

"It's guh-getting cold, let's get you home."

#diego hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #diego x reader #diego tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #number 2 x reader #diego hargreeves #diego tua #tua #the umbrella academy #x reader

[wazzupmrstark]

breaking curfew [part eleven] || th x reader

A/N: finally!!! here’s the full chapter

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, smut, choking (bc what’s hate sex w/out a lil choking)

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter​​

Word Count: 3.8k

Series Masterlist

Sneaking around with Tom was more fun than you would have liked to admit. He pulled you aside every chance he got- in the middle of bonfires, free time, even sometimes during dinner. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you and you certainly weren’t complaining. Seeing him still made those ugly feelings of bitterness and resentment bubble up in your chest, but it also produced… other feelings. Feelings you’d rather not think too much about.

So you didn’t. When you were with Tom you didn’t think. Obviously. If you had used even one brain cell you wouldn’t have put yourself in this situation to begin with.

When you weren’t with Tom you tried not to think about it too much either. What you had now was good. Really good. Getting in your head about it would just fuck everything up. And as much as you hated the boy you couldn’t deny how good the dick was. God forbid he ever heard you say that, but fuck whenever you hooked up with him you lost track of time completely and let yourself get distracted by the way he looked at you when you were naked, the way he kissed you when you were least expecting it, the way his hands…

“Night off?” Harrison had asked when you ran into the cafeteria a little (more than a little) late that first morning after for breakfast duty.

You scrunched up your face in confusion, fighting the urge to bend over to catch your breath. “How’d you know?”

“You’ve got that morning-after glow,” he said knowingly and smirked.

“What are you talking about?” you asked even though you knew exactly what he was talking about. You could only hope you didn’t look as flustered as you felt, but you were pretty sure that was a longshot.

“I think you know the answer to that,” he quipped, calling your bluff. “Literally every counselor has had a wank in that cabin it’s like a rite of passage- and uh you missed a few buttons.” He nodded at the collar of your polo.

You looked down and realized you had missed way more than a few. Your cleavage had been on full display all day and there was no telling how many people you’d seen or passed on the way here. Fantastic. You looked like you belonged in a porno about camp counselors, not like you actually were one. Could the morning get any worse?

“Don’t worry, y/n, we’ve all been there. I didn’t even last a full minute my night off-”

Why did you have to ask?

“Harrison, our kids are literally right over there,” you whisper-yelled, squeezing your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Haz jerking off from your mind. 

“They’re not listening,” he brushed it off casually and crossed his arms. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I think one of my boys has a crush on one of yours.”

You looked back over at him and grinned. “Really, who?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure-”

“Dude, just tell me!”

“You see blondie over there?” he asked, pointing discreetly at the boy filling pitchers of water. You nodded. “That’s Will. I think he might fancy the girl with the pigtails?”

“Grace?” you asked, hiding a smile as you thought back to what she’d said about Will back towards the beginning of the summer. 

“That sounds right. Apparently they have rock climbing together for activities. He talks about her a lot, but he won’t admit he likes her!”

“Typical boy.”

“I don’t know what his deal is,” he mused.

“Yeah, I don’t know why he doesn’t want to admit he likes her…” you trailed off, staring intently at Haz waiting for him to get the hint.

“Okay fuck off!”

“What? I was agreeing with you!”

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to make this about me and Nicole by comparing us to third graders and it’s completely uncalled for.”

“Technically I was only comparing you to a third grader, but I’m glad you get the gist,” you quipped, secretly enjoying the way Haz scowled in response.

“I’ll have you know that Nicole and I are… talking.”

“Talking?”

“We’re talking.”

“Talking… about?”

“Things.”

“Oh wow, that sounds really serious,” you said sarcastically. “When’s the wedding?”

“You know what, just for that comment you’re not invited.”

“Come on, you know it’s not a party without me,” you chided, elbowing him in the side. “I’d bring your ex-girlfriend as my date and everything.”

“Dear god, please not Cara, she’s fucking crazy.

You shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s also really hot.”

“You’ve got me there,” he agreed. “Is that who you were thinking about last night? My ex?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You know, last night when you were…” he made some obscene gesture with his hand that immediately made you scoff.

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Harrison.”

“Oh shit it was someone here wasn’t it? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours!”

“I already know who yours is, that’s not how this works.”

“What if I re-invite you to the wedding?”

“Nice try.”

-

“Fuck, y/n, I’ve wanted you all day,” Tom moaned into your neck as he fumbled with the button on your shorts.

You held back a whine and arched up to give him more access as he kissed the insides of your thighs and threw your legs over his shoulders.

Your shirt was already off and the concrete was cool, almost cold on your back, reminiscent of bitter hookups in dive bar bathrooms and motel showers that you’d rather forget. To be fair you hadn’t really expected the floor of the canoe shed to be comfortable anyway, but still. You could’ve done without the memories.

Maybe the familiarity of it all was a sign that this was a bad idea, which you already knew to be true, but at least this time there weren’t any feelings involved.

“Tom, please,” you gasped out as he teased you, inching his fingers closer and closer to your panties.

“Please what, darling?” he taunted, smirking. “Use your words, y/n.”

“You’re killing me,” you sighed and tilted your head back in exasperation.

“Good,” he hummed, extending his arm out to wrap his hand around your throat. 

“Fuck.”

“This okay?” he asked, looking up at you for assurance.

“Yes- God, yes.”

It was after curfew and you were supposed to be setting up all the little caches around the camp for geocaching tomorrow, but clearly you’d gotten... sidetracked. You’d enlisted Tom to help you but he was only proving to be a distraction- in more ways than one. He’d pulled you aside as soon as you met him outside your cabin and now you were here, on the floor in the canoe shed getting leaves and sticks in your hair as he went down on you.

Once your shorts were off Tom settled back in between your legs and flicked his tongue teasingly over your panties, chuckling lowly when he heard you moan. He used the hand that wasn’t on your neck to hold your hips down, making your attempts to get more pressure on your clit useless. 

He was stronger than you expected, but that was an understatement. He held you in place so effortlessly that it was kind of a turn on. You’d seen him lifting heavy boxes and equipment around camp and you vaguely remembered him carrying you out of the lake, but you had never put two and two together until now. 

Meanwhile his other hand rested gently on your throat, squeezing lightly whenever you pouted. The contrast between the two was making your head spin. 

You whined pitifully in an effort to make him give in, but he wasn’t having any of it. Instead he sat back, removing himself from you completely, save the hand on your hips.

“I hate you,” you spat. 

“You say that every time,” he pointed out as he edged your boyshorts down your thighs. “And yet here you are.”

“My horniness outweighs my hatred,” you scoffed impatiently.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” he said and licked his lips cockily.

“Once this cast comes off I won’t need you anymore,” you reminded him, wiggling your fingers.

“Yeah, but will your hand make you feel as good as I can?” 

A rhetorical question, obviously, and he proved his point further by sucking your clit into his mouth without warning, making you arch up into him. 

“Mph.”

“What was that, love?” Tom asked, lifting his head. “Couldn’t hear you.”

You refused to answer. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. So the two of you sat there in silence, waiting to see who would be the first to give in. You could see his bulge through his pants and you knew his patience was already worn thin from when you had teased him at dinner, but you also knew how stubborn he was. No amount of moaning or pouting was going to change that.

You were stubborn too, but when he clenched his jaw in frustration and wiped your arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand you broke.

“Fuck, fine! No!”

“No what?”

“No, you’re better than my hand.”

“A little louder for the class?”

“You’re pushing it, Holland,” you growled. “Want me to go find Ying to take care of this?”

You weren’t actually sure if Fy liked you like that but for some reason bringing up his name during sex always made Tom a little more firey. 

“Sure, but I doubt he can make you scream like I can” he whispered and moved so that he was lying on his back on the floor across from you.

You scrunched up your face in confusion, wondering if he was actually calling your bluff. “What are you doing-”

“Sit on my face.”

You weren’t sure if you’d heard him right. “What?”

“You heard me. Sit on my face, love.”

Fuck. How could you say no to an invitation like that?

-

“Round two?” Tom asked breathlessly as he played with your hair.

You were laying on top of him, mostly naked, a little sweaty, completely blissed out. But as tempting as that sounded there were other things you had to do. 

“Tom, I really do need to get this done,” you insisted and raised yourself to hover over him with your good arm. “I can’t leave my campers for so long and we haven’t even started setting up for tomorrow.”

“Maybe the caches are just really hard to find tomorrow?” Tom said and shrugged.

“Are you suggesting I don’t hide them at all?”

He sat up next to you and passed your shirt over to you. “I just think it’d be kinda funny to watch them look, you know? Because you know there aren’t any to find.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an asshole.”

“You say that, but you’re laughing too.”

“I am not!” you insisted, trying to hide your smile behind your hands.

“All I’m saying is we’ve got options. We could go hide the caches or we could just say we did and have sex again.”

You shook your head. “Unbelievable.”

Campus was quiet as the two of you made your way over to the edge of the woods designated for geocaching. Only the sounds of crickets and various birds in the distance could be heard aside from you and Tom’s obnoxious laughter as you took turns running down the hill into the valley. He even ran back up to then roll down the hill like an idiot ending up with a mouthful of grass at the bottom. You laughed so hard you almost peed yourself. 

The forest itself was much darker since there weren’t any path lights down there and it was only navigable by the headlamps you and Tom were wearing. Even though you couldn’t stand him you were glad he was here. Traversing your way through the woods by yourself late at night with a broken arm sounded like a pretty bad idea.

“It looks kind of sexy on you,” he commented.

Okay maybe you would rather risk it alone. 

“What does?” you asked, deciding to entertain him.

“The headlamp. You look like a hot... cave explorer or something.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“I’m serious!” he insisted. “It’s really working for me.”

“Can you stop thinking with your dick for like two seconds and focus please?” 

He cleared his throat and nodded, still biting back that shit-eating smile of his. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“Eh, maybe a little.” He looked down at the list of hiding places on his phone and grimaced. “Why are there so fucking many of these?”

“There are a lot of campers! We hide enough for everyone to find something.”

“So there’s no competition? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Only you would say that,” you sighed. “Some caches are better than others depending on their hiding places and whoever finds the most ‘gold-tier’ caches by the end of the summer gets some big prize, so don’t worry there’s still a competition involved.”

“You really like this activity?” he asked after a beat, making you stop short.

You knew what he was really asking. Do you like it better than mine? And even in the dark you could see he so badly wanted the answer to be no. Whether it was a matter of pride... or something else, you couldn’t be certain, but either way you weren’t sure which you’d rather it be or how you should answer. You decided to be indifferent.

“It’s easy.” You stared straight ahead as you walked now, not wanting to look back at him. “The kids are great, they get really into it and they have a lot of fun. I like writing the riddles and clues too. And, uh, Haz is nice I guess. It could be a lot worse.”

“That's good.” It wasn’t the response you were expecting. “Should we split up and hide these?” he asked as he referred back to the list and changed the subject. “It’d take half the time if we did.”

“Are you kidding- that’s how every horror movie starts, Tom! Are you trying to die?”

He shrugged. “I’m not afraid of a little darkness.”

“Yeah, you’d definitely be the first one dead.”

“I mean if there really is a psycho killer out in the woods with us right now I don’t think either of us stands a chance together or apart so does it really matter?” You opened your mouth to speak when he cut you off again. “I mean especially you since you have that whole broken arm disadvantage.”

“Disadvantage- are you saying you’d leave me for dead if a murderer just happened to show up?”

“I’m not not saying that...”

“After everything we’ve been through together?”

“Everything we’ve been through together? Like you wouldn’t do the same thing!”

“Well I’m considering it now!”

“Good luck with that, love,” he quipped, cradling his arm in a mocking manner as he pretended to limp along the path.

“A broken arm doesn’t stop me from running, dumbass.”

“But do you really think you could outrun me, y/l/n? I’m pretty fast.”

“Oh yeah you’re faster than me at a lot of things.” 

“Watch it.”

-

You didn’t make it back to your cabin until much later that night since Tom wouldn’t stop dicking around. You had lost track of the list more than once and stopped to make out against random trees more times than you’d like to admit. Next time you were going to ask Zendaya to help you prep. 

Given that you’d gotten in so late, your alarm the next morning was quite the wake up call. You probably would have slept through it if you hadn’t fallen asleep with your phone lying on your chest, leaving it to blare in your ear when it went off. 

You felt almost hungover and you probably looked it too. You were tempted to just go back to sleep for an extra half hour and skip your shower, but you knew you probably shouldn’t. There were likely still leaves in your hair and grass stains on your knees from a few hours ago. 

Your head spun when you sat up and you had to take a few quick breaths before standing up. You should’ve taken a few more because you were not prepared for how sore you were. Your back felt stiff and your arms felt like jelly- even the one that wasn’t broken. 

Somehow you managed to drag yourself to the bathrooms and rinse off. Like usual the showers were pretty empty so you could take your time. You washed your hair vigorously, trying to get all the dirt and grime out.

There were some small scrapes and bruises you hadn’t noticed last night and you took extra care cleaning around them so you wouldn’t make them worse. Thankfully there weren’t any... suspicious looking marks aside from the older ones on your chest that were already fading.

The quiet of the morning made getting up so early worth it. The hot water too. The plumbing was already iffy up here and the water heater was unreliable on most days, but when all the showers were full and people were trying to get ready for bed late at night you could forget about hot water. At least there was a guarantee of relatively warm water in the mornings. 

After you turned the water off you wrapped your towel around your body and grabbed your makeup bag to finish getting ready for the day. Upon opening it you realized you’d forgotten to grab a lot of necessities from the cabin before you left meaning you’d have to make do for now. 

You brushed through your as best you could with your fingers and brushed your teeth with your finger and some toothpaste from one of those mini tubes you get at the dentist that you found at the bottom of your bag. You didn’t have any hair ties with you to braid your hair back like you usually did when you washed it so it’d have to dry down like it was. 

You cursed under your breath and reluctantly looked up into the mirror to assess your appearance. It was pretty much what you expected. The dark circles under your eyes looked more defined, especially in the fluorescent lights, you hair was still all tangled despite your efforts to tame it, and, well, your arm was in a fucking plastic bag. The only way you could shower without help was if you wrapped a trash bag or a big ziploc over your cast and just hoped for the best. All things considered it wasn’t the worst thing about how you looked right now. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Just as you were about to head back to your cabin you saw Fy out of the corner of your eye and waved. 

“Yo, y/l/n, what are the odds?” He said and grinned.

“Apparently pretty high since we seem to meet like this every morning.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said cheekily.

You felt butterflies start to flutter in your stomach as you watched him slick his hair back and look you up and down. “Me either.”

He took a step closer so that you were almost chest to chest.. “How’s the arm?”

“Oh, uh, good! The medicine helps a lot, thanks again for picking it up by the way.”

“Of course, any time.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you up if I ever break my arm again.”

“Dear God, please don’t break your arm again.”

You shrugged. “I mean with me you never know. I’m pretty accident prone.”

“Well maybe next time I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in towards you. “M-maybe.”

Then he gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face and pressed his lips to yours. Unlike your first kiss with Tom, Fy was sure of himself and sure of what he wanted. He cradled your head with his hand as he deepened the kiss and let you lean into him. You had to stand on your tiptoes to be able to reach but you didn’t mind.

He tasted like mint, which wasn’t surprising since he had probably just brushed his teeth- you flashed back to a few minutes previous when you had brushed your teeth with your finger and prayed you didn’t taste awful in turn. If you did, though, Fy wasn’t complaining. He continued to kiss you like his life depended on it and you wondered why you hadn’t done this earlier... earlier.

You pulled away suddenly, feeling very overwhelmed and out of breath.

“Shit, I’m so sorry if I overstepped,” Fy apologized immediately.

You shook your head and swallowed hard. “No, no it’s not that I was really into it actually... I just-”

“Just what?”

“There’s something that’s been bugging me for a while now and I just need to ask you about it before we go any further.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, going along with your rambling even though he was completely lost. “What is it?”

“I don’t even know if you’ll remember, it’s dumb... but um why did you stop talking to me all of the sudden? Back when we were campers?”

“In third grade?” 

You nodded. “I know it was so long ago, but I thought we were really good friends and then you just stopped talking to me out of nowhere-”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, looking equally as confused as you felt. 

“No, I don’t. Did you just not want to be friends anymore? Or did you pick Tom and his friends over me? It’s okay if  you did- I’ve just been wondering about it all these years.”

“No, no that’s not it at all,” he assured you. “Fuck, I’m sorry you’ve just been in the dark about it I thought you knew.”

“It was third grade, it's not a big deal.”

“But it was back then! And even if you had liked him it was still a dick move.”

“Wait, if I had liked who? What do you mean?”

“Um, okay, so I liked you in third grade, right? Like really liked you. I considered you my first crush and everything and when we started to get closer I thought that maybe you felt the same way... but then I found out you had a crush on someone else and-”

“Wait, Fy,” you interjected, “I-I didn’t have a crush on anyone else. I liked you back then.”

“You did?”

“But you stopped talking to me because you thought I had a crush on someone else?” you asked, finally putting the pieces together. Fy nodded. “Who?”

“Tom had told me that you had a crush on him.”

thank you guys for being so patient- i’m sorry this took so long!! but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[cyhyr]

Summer of Whump Day 24: Stitches

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka; Uzumaki Naruto & Umino Iruka

WC: ~2530

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Stitches, performed without anesthetic. Dissociation. PTSD. References to past non/dub-con between Mizuki and Iruka.

A/N: Heyyy I did a tiny bit of research, watched a video on how to perform these kinds of emergency stitches, and Have Never gotten stitches before in my life, anesthetic or no. I just wanna hurt the man, is that so bad lol

~

Two days after Mizuki puts a fūma shuriken in his back, showing his true colors and betraying the village, Iruka leaves the hospital because he is sick of laying on his stomach. The medinins refuse to heal him any further, saying that his body needs to help put itself back together without the use of chakra; still, though, they want him to stay for at least a week, so they can keep an eye on his stitches. Iruka knows how to care for stitches. And so, with minimal pain medication and Naruto’s begrudging assistance, Iruka signs his discharge forms and goes home.

The next day he goes back to work at the Mission Desk, as the Academy is on break for another two weeks before the next term starts. The work is physically simple, if stressful in other ways. There really should be refresher courses for shinobi with terrible handwriting.

The problem happens on his way home. And it’s really the dumbest thing.

A stray cat gets underfoot. Iruka stumbles. He twists just enough to catch himself before he falls, and feels some of the threads holding his back together rip.

He’s proud of the fact that he holds back any outward expression of pain. He’s also proud that he makes it the rest of the way home without attracting any attention or getting any odd looks.

Iruka heads straight to the bathroom once he’s home, and is able to shrug off his flak vest easily enough. There’s a spot of blood on the inside, soon to set into a stain. Iruka can’t be bothered. He tries pulling his shirt over his head and grits his teeth at the flash of pain—nope, that’s not happening. Instead, he pulls a pair of scissors from the vanity drawer, sighs for the hopelessness of needing to replace this shirt later, and cuts the fabric off of himself.

Once his shirt is in pieces on the floor, he turns around and looks over his shoulder as best he can to observe the damage. He’s bleeding sluggishly through the ripped threads, and the skin has split again. He should go to the hospital.

He really doesn’t want to go back to the hospital. It’s only been a day.

But he can’t fix this himself; if it were on his arm, or leg, or hell even his chest or stomach, he could do it. In the middle of his back, however? That’s just—

“Iruka-sensei, I’m home! And I brought Kakashi-sensei! He said he was going to have soup for dinner so I invited him! Who has just soup for dinner???”

Oh, shit. He forgot about Naruto coming over. He forgot about giving Naruto a key and teaching him the wards. And of course, Naruto invited his jōnin-sensei—which normally wouldn’t be a problem! But he can’t go out there like this.

Fuck.

Naruto knocks on the door. “Iru-nii?” He’s quiet, which is how Iruka knows that Naruto is worried about him. “Is everything okay?”

His instinct is to say yes, of course I’ll be right there but he doesn’t want to lie to Naruto. He’s not okay, and he won’t be okay if he can’t get his back—

Wait.

Kakashi.

He’s not considering this. He barely knows the man! But then, wouldn’t that make it easier to ask for a clinical, clean, stitch me up please with no weird feelings?

Naruto knocks again. “Iru-nii?” The handle jiggles like he’s about to open it.

“I’m… I—Actually, could you. Um.” He braces his hands against the vanity. He can do this. He gets it all out in one large exhale: “Can you send Kakashi-sensei in here, please?”

Naruto seems to pause—maybe even thoughtfully—outside the door before he runs back to the living room. Iruka whines through his teeth as his back continues to bleed sluggishly. He can hear the two of them talking in the apartment, Naruto’s voice getting louder as he comes back to the bathroom.

“Please, can you just—?”

A soft knock. “Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi’s voice is just as soft.

“Come in, please,” Iruka groans. “Don’t let Naruto in,” he adds quickly.

Kakashi steps through the door and shuts it behind himself. He crosses the bathroom in two steps and stands behind Iruka, examining the wound. He lets out a low hum. “I thought you’d be on bedrest for at least another week, sensei,” Kakashi comments. “I heard this was serious.”

Iruka ignores him. “There’s a suture kit in the cabinet above the toilet,” he says instead. “Is there any chance I can have you—?”

“Why not just go back to the hospital?”

“I… Gods, Kakashi-sensei, I hate it there. It smells wrong and everyone looks at me with either distrust or pity and I. I can’t. Please.”

Kakashi doesn’t respond verbally, but does go to the cabinet and remove the suture kit. He pushes his hands around Iruka, into the sink, and washes up; then he finds a washcloth, wets it, and carefully drags it along the skin around the wound.

“You still may have lost a significant amount of blood, sensei. You should—”

“I’ll take an iron supplement,” Iruka shakes his head. “Just. Close it back up, please.”

“There’s no anesthetic in here.”

“I know,” Iruka says sheepishly. “I used it up last time Mizu—well, I never got around to replenishing it.”

“I don’t know the medical ninjutsu to numb the nerves,” Kakashi warns. “This is going to hurt.”

“I’m aware. Just. Do it.”

He can feel Kakashi prodding softly at his back with the forceps, the metal cool against his skin. He prepares himself for the worst.

~

It’s been at least a year and a half since Kakashi has had to give someone else stitches. He sets the forceps aside, back in the kit, and selects a pair of gloves.

“No latex allergy?” he asks, to confirm.

“I wouldn’t keep them in the house if I had one,” Iruka grumbles.

Kakashi hums and pulls his own gloves off, replacing them with the latex. “Five stitches in total, sensei,” he says, assessing the length of the exposed injury. “You popped four, but I learned a different method of stitching; I’ll need to make five to cover the same distance.”

Iruka nods. “Whatever you need to do.”

“Do you have something to bite?”

Iruka nods, reaches up and pulls his hitai-ate down his face, and back to his mouth. Kakashi notes that he doesn’t put the metal plate in his mouth—either he’s had this done before, or he’s not stupid.

Kakashi loads the needle, picks it up with the driver, and presses the tip of the needle against Iruka’s skin. “Last chance to go to the hospital,” he says.

Iruka groans through his makeshift gag and shakes his head. Once he’s still again, Kakashi drives the needle into his skin, turns his wrist, and pulls the first half of the stitch out of the right side of the wound. Iruka’s curse is muffled, but what Kakashi can determine sounds… creative?

He’s careful in pulling at the wound with the forceps, placing the needle precisely and piercing the flesh. Another turn of his wrist has the needle point rising up through the skin. He shifts the grip and pulls the needle through, letting the suture thread follow.

Iruka is statue-still, but whimpering behind his gag. It’s… gods it’s impressive, how still he holds himself through such biting pain. Then again, he is a shinobi—even if he’s a teacher now, Kakashi remembers pulling field work with Sandaime’s newest pet. Pain is just part of the job.

That doesn’t mean they can turn their nerves off.

Kakashi loops the thread and ties it off, settling the knot on the left. Twice more he knots the thread to keep it from coming loose again. He might not be a medic, but his stitches don’t pop. ANBU was good for something.

“That’s one,” he mutters and readies the driver again on the right. Iruka nods, and he continues the stitching.

As he’s tying off the second stitch, he notices that Iruka’s shoulders are, perhaps, too still. He glances around Iruka’s body (he thought the man would be slight and yes, he’s smaller than Kakashi, but they’re built similarly and that’s not important right now damnit) and notices that Iruka is barely breathing.

He sets his tools down and puts one hand on Iruka’s abdomen. “Breathe,” he orders. Iruka immediately sucks in a breath, pushing on Kakashi’s hand. He nods, saying, “Very good. Keep breathing through it. You’re doing very well.”

He picks back up the forceps and driver, not realizing the effect his words have on Iruka.

~

The needle bites into his back for the third stitch and Iruka breathes deeply through his nose. The pain is sharp and intense and combined with the ache of the rest of the shuriken wound and how recent Mizuki’s betrayal is on his mind… Iruka’s worried that he’s going to slip away like he used to in the last few months of his and Mizuki’s relationship. Before he had threatened Naruto one too many times and Iruka asked him to leave and not come back unless he can respect both of them.

(Mizuki hadn’t come back. He, instead, had gone and gotten engaged. Turns out Asuma-nii-san was right when he’d said that Mizuki was using him.)

(That was over a year ago. He doesn’t cry himself to sleep anymore.)

The needle comes up the other side and Iruka braces for the oddity of thread sliding through his flesh. Then the discomfort of the wound being pulled back together.

Kakashi is good at this, though. He uses even pressure the whole time, so Iruka can be sure exactly how much it’s going to hurt.

“Three done,” he says. “It’ll be over soon. You can take it.”

Mizuki used to say stuff like that.

Just a little more, baby. I know it hurts, but you can take it.

Iruka fights to stay present. The needle goes in, and in, and out and out; thread slides along the way it’s guided.

Aww, ‘Ruka, you gonna cry from a few stitches? I thought you were stronger than that.

He whimpers. He can’t have an episode in front of Naruto’s jōnin-sensei. But this was an unfortunate perfect storm of pain and soft words and harsh action but gentle hands and. And. And.

He breathes in. And out.

“There we go, that’s it,” Kakashi murmurs behind him.

His eyes lose focus. He needs to stay still because Mizu—Kaka—because… The pain is dull compared to the ringing in his head and the throbbing in his teeth. He can feel his heartbeat in his neck.

He tries to get out a warning. That he’s about to slip. He’s dissociating. He’s—

~

“One more knot,” he mutters. “You’ve done very well.”

Kakashi finishes the final knot and snips the thread to size. There are surgical dressings and tape in the box alongside the suture kit; he tapes a large dressing into place over the whole wound, not just the new stitches. The latex gloves come off and fall into the garbage beside the sink.

Iruka hasn’t moved.

He puts his hands on Iruka’s shoulders and turns him around; takes the hitai-ate out of his mouth and lets it rest around his neck. Iruka is… dazed? His breaths are shaky, uneven; what the hell…?

“Are you okay?”

Iruka nods slowly. Maybe the pain made him non-verbal. Kakashi’s known shinobi for whom it’s happened before.

“You took that well. I don’t know many shinobi who would get that many stitches without anesthetic outside of a field situation.”

“Thank you,” Iruka says drowsily.

That wasn’t exactly the answer he was hoping for. Umino Iruka is known for having a smart mouth and a quick wit; this is something else. “You should eat something.”

“Not hungry.”

“Something light, then.” Kakashi tugs him along by his elbows, says, “Your bedroom, out and to the right?” Iruka freezes, for less than a second. It’s enough for Kakashi to notice; he hastens to explain, “You need a fresh shirt, yes?”

Maybe a sense of normalcy will bring him back. Should he treat Iruka differently in this…

Fuck, the man’s not even looking at him. He’s looking at their feet. He’s trembling.

Trauma response, his ANBU training supplies. Fuck.

He takes Iruka’s hands, over-projecting his movements, and says, “Let’s get you dressed, and then you can sit with Naruto for a bit?”

Iruka’s like a doll as he follows along into his room, and sits primly on the edge of the bed. Like he’s ready to slip off at any moment—shit.

Kakashi ducks his head out of the room and yells down the hall. “Naruto? Come over here.”

The door next to his hand opens up and Naruto stands in the doorway, clearly stressed and worried. “Is Iruka-sensei okay? What happened? You guys were in the bathroom forever!”

Kakashi holds up a hand to stop the rambling. “He’s alright, I think. He’s—well, something unrelated to what I—”

Naruto pushes by him and into Iruka’s room. He clearly takes in Iruka’s shirtlessness and position on the bed to mean something else, because he crosses to Iruka and pulls the man into a hug. Then, he glares at Kakashi.

The Fox glares at Kakashi.

“You! I trusted you! How dare you touch him like that—!”

The fury is rising fast, and Kakashi needs to do damage control before real damage becomes a problem. He raises both hands and tries to placate Naruto, explaining, “Iruka asked me to fix his stitches. The trauma response is unrelated to me, I swear. Naruto, I didn’t touch him without his consent.”

The heat in the room settles a little, as it looks like Iruka leans into Naruto and maybe even mutters his name. Naruto looks away from Kakashi, his eyes still exposing the Fox, and he grits, “Second drawer down,” while pointing at a chest of drawers against the wall.

Kakashi moves carefully—he’s not sure yet how much of the Fox is out of the seal’s control and he doesn’t want to risk it. The second drawer has a selection of uniform shirts and also casual tees. Kakashi picks the topmost civvie tee and brings it to Naruto.

“That’s close enough,” Naruto growls when he gets to the end of the bed. He’s three paces away. He’s not positive that it’s far enough to make a clean retreat should Naruto determine him to be a threat. He tosses the shirt the rest of the way, and watches while Naruto helps Iruka into it.

“I’m going to go and find him something light to eat. Stay with him?”

“Of course,” Naruto growls. “You don’t need to ask.”

“Naruto…” he hesitates, not sure he wants to know, but is too curious to not try and ask. “What happened? Who—?”

“You can ask Iruka-sensei when he’s back,” Naruto says.

It’s telling enough that Naruto understands what’s going on, that Iruka is dissociated and not present. Kakashi heads out of the room with a nod. Someone who inspires this much rage from the Fox, and who Naruto is comfortable enough with to call “brother”?

Kakashi absolutely intends to find out everything he can about this man.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump24 #stitches #fanfic #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #my writing