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helloalycia · 2 days

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𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐆𝐄 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐓

two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you're invited to help film a documentary about the lost island of Yamatai, you don't expect to be fighting for your life against the natives – with your old crush from university of all people.

warning/s: mentions of violence, assault, death, ship crash, guns, paranormal stuff and basically anything the first Tomb Raider game involved lol.

author's note: so i recently replayed the tomb raider games and naturally felt the need to write a little fic for 2013 Lara bc she's a cutie who deserved the world, and thus this was born!

It's a two parter and follows the storyline from the first game and part of the comics (no need to have read them if you haven't, it's all explained within the story and pretty easy to follow). Hope you enjoy! 🥰

I glanced around the dock, spotting the Endurance instantly, it looking just as Sam, my university classmate, described to me.

We'd met during our Film degree, where we'd worked together enough times to appreciate the partnership. When she called me up last minute to help film a documentary for TV with celebrity archaeologist Dr. Whitman, I knew I couldn't resist.

"Can I help you, miss?" a man asked as I lingered by the ship, staring up at it in awe.

"I– sorry, yes," I said with a sheepish smile, "I'm looking for Samantha Nishimura? I'm supposed to be meeting her–"

"Y/N! You're here!"

I looked behind the fisherman and spotted Sam standing on the Endurance, waving down at me enthusiastically. I smiled widely, returning her wave, before excusing myself from the man and lugging my suitcase up the ramp to meet her. As soon as I stepped foot on the ship, she pulled me in for a hug.

"I'm so glad you made it," she said excitedly. "You look great!"

I chuckled, always finding her American accent paired with her natural enthusiasm refreshing. "I said I would, didn't I? I'm grateful you called, Sam. Can't say I've been on a ship before."

"And here's me thinking you were excited to be working with me again," she retorted sarcastically.

"Always," I assured her, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"C'mon, I wanna introduce you to everyone," she said, already dragging me by the hand to the other side of the deck.

I pulled my suitcase clumsily behind me, glad when she stopped before a familiar face who was staring out at the sea by the railing.

"Lara, Y/N's here," Sam called to her friend.

Lara turned around and I found myself smiling without meaning to. Lara Croft was Sam's best friend and we'd met on a few occasions prior to this, mostly at university when Sam and I would hang out or she'd invite me to their shared flat. I always found her fascinating, an adorably awkward and quiet girl who I couldn't help but fancy just a little bit, but she didn't need to know that. I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited to be working with her again.

"Y/N, hello," Lara greeted me with a nervous smile, the complete opposite to Sam. "How have you been?"

"Hey, Lara, I've been good, thanks," I said with a nod. "Just excited to be here is all. Sam mentioned you're helping out with the research for Dr. Whitman's documentary, that's pretty huge."

Cheeks dusting pink, Lara shrugged bashfully. "Not sure it's huge, but–”

"Oh, be quiet," Sam shushed her instantly, before shooting me a look. "This was mostly her idea. She's gonna nail it.”

"I don't doubt it," I agreed with a laugh, finding Lara's shyness endearing.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you to the others," Sam said with a slight nudge. "And I'll show you your room."

"Sounds good," I agreed, ready to follow after her.

As she began to lead the way, Lara spoke, "It's good to have you on board, Y/N."

Naturally, I found myself smiling all over again, especially when her eyes met mine. "It's good to be on board. I look forward to working with you."

She returned my smile and I forced myself to look away before I got carried away staring. I couldn't help it, she was captivating!

After showing me around the ship, which hadn't set sail just yet as we were waiting on one more, Sam introduced me to the other crew members.

There was Roth, the captain of the ship and a lovely guy (though I was biased since he was northern like me); Grim, the helmsman and a man with many stories to tell; Jonah, the guy I was definitely going to be on good terms with considering he was cooking all our dinners; Alex, the technician who, according to Sam, overcompensated for his lack of coolness with his absolute goofiness, but he was ultimately harmless; there was also Dr. Whitman, who was a questionable character but also the reason for this documentary, so I paid it no mind; and lastly, there was Reyes, who arrived right before we set sail.

"She's really good at what she does," Sam was explaining as her, Lara and I were mumbling in the kitchen over cups of tea, "but she's a little scary. Roth vouches for her."

I quirked a brow as I glanced over at Reyes, who was talking to Roth and Grim on the other side of the kitchen. "She doesn't look scary."

"Give it a day then tell us if you still think that," Lara muttered with a knowing look. "If looks could kill..."

"I can hear you ladies perfectly clear from over here, y'know," Reyes suddenly spoke, before I could respond to Lara.

We all looked up to see Reyes narrowing her eyes at us from beside Roth and Grim, and without saying another word, the three of us scrambled out the kitchen with our tea. It was easy to know what Sam and Lara meant now. Reyes was not one to get on the bad side of.

After all the introductions were done, we finally set off on our expedition to Yamatai, and I was already looking forward to what this new adventure would bring.

—

A few days into the journey and I already felt settled in on the ship, easily falling into a rhythm of everything. Between eating meals with the others, planning and filming footage with Sam and learning more about this mystery island of Yamatai, I was enjoying myself a lot.

I was especially enjoying getting to know Lara a bit more, outside of the usual greetings we exchanged at university. It was easy to warm up to her, though I suppose I always had. This time though, she seemed to be warming up to me too for a change and I gladly welcomed it. Though I looked for any excuse to hang around her, so it was no surprise she grew used to me.

It was a few days into it when I was getting some B-roll footage whilst Sam conducted some interviews with the crew. It was little things like Jonah cooking or Reyes fixing something or, in this instance, Lara working on some research in her room.

"So, you just wanna film me working?" she asked with confusion, after she let me in with the request of shooting some more.

"Yep, just keep doing what you're doing," I told her, nodding to her position at her desk where several papers and books were sprawled out.

"It's going to be a little boring, isn't it?" she mumbled, puzzled, as she looked back to her desk. "I'm just reading and making notes."

"That'll do," I assured her with a smile, before turning my camera on and pointing it her way. "Pretend I'm not here."

She nodded, clearly not understanding what B-roll meant, and it made me stifle a laugh as I began to film her working. It was obvious she was uncomfortable with the camera though, a little stiff, so I decided to have a little fun with it.

"So, here we have Miss Lara Croft, our resident researcher, hanging out and doing her– well, her researching, of course," I narrated quietly, dead serious as I kept filming.

She glanced up at me, quirking a brow, but I ignored it and continued.

"As you can see, there's a bit of mythology here, some languages there."

"Y/N, what are you doing?" she finally asked, cheeks tinged pink.

I straightened up and lowered my camera slightly, playing dumb. "Oh, didn't Sam tell you?"

She furrowed her brows, suddenly intrigued. "Tell me what...?"

I nodded like it was obvious. "That we're making you a TV star."

Realising I was teasing her, she scoffed quietly, ready to retort, but I beat her to it.

"Yeah, people are gonna turn on their telly for Whitman, but stay for Lara Croft," I continued nonchalantly. "Everyone's gonna be wondering who the intelligent and cute researcher is that landed Whitman on the undiscovered island of Yamatai."

"Oh, now you're just being a pain in my arse," she said disapprovingly, standing up and going to her bed.

I couldn't help but laugh. "What? It's true! I'm just giving the people what they want, Lara."

As I lifted the camera to zoom in on her face, I realised a moment too late that she'd grabbed a pillow from her bed.

"Get out!" she said with a ghost of a smile, throwing said pillow at the camera.

All I did was laugh again and she suddenly launched a second one at my face before guiding me to the door.

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving!" I defended with a grin, stepping outside her door.

She rolled her eyes at my expression, but not before her lips curved into a slight smile, then the door was slammed in my face.

Totally worth it.

—

I wrinkled my nose uncomfortably, feeling myself drift from dreamland to reality. Something was tickling me and it wasn't doing anything to help with my nap.

When it wouldn't stop, I reached for my nose and cracked open an eye, only to see the blurry image of Lara and Alex kneeling down before me. Confused, I opened both eyes and realised they were holding my videocamera, clearly taping something.

"What are you idiots doing?" I mumbled tiredly, sitting up when they began to chuckle.

After a quick glance in my phone camera, my eyes widened when I saw what they'd done. Black eyeliner – the same eyeliner in Lara's hand – was drawn on my face into a moustache and bushy eyebrows, and they'd recorded the whole thing.

"Hey!" I shouted, fixing them with a glare, and as soon as I got up, they both began to squeal as they took my videocamera and ran out of there.

I struggled after them, making it as far as the hallway before I gave up with the chase, but not after shouting some select insults at them.

"You should've known not to fall asleep with them nearby," Sam warned with a stifled smile, leaning against the doorframe when she spotted me.

"Thanks for the advice," I said grumpily, before going to the bathroom to wipe it off.

After managing to scrub it off with some makeup wipes, I went to my cabin to relax in peace, then I heard a knock on my open door. Turning around, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously upon seeing Lara standing there, holding my videocamera.

"Sorry," she apologised, though it was hard to believe her when she was smiling uncontrollably.

"You're not though," I pointed out, accepting the camera from her grasp.

"Yeah, not really," she admitted with a chuckle, before following me to my bed to sit on it. "I was just getting that extra footage you wanted. B-roll, right?"

I tensed my jaw as I fixed her with a suspicious glance, seeing the innocent smile she feigned as she used my own words against me. Annoyingly enough, she was still cute.

"It's fine, Croft, I'll get my own back eventually," I replied as I leaned against my headboard.

"Oh, I'm so scared," she said sarcastically, sitting at the foot of my bed and leaning back against the dresser.

"You just see," I retorted knowingly, already planning several ways to get back at her and Alex.

She laughed, a wholehearted laugh that lit up the room in an instant and brought butterflies to my chest. "How about I make it up to you?"

I lifted a brow, curious. "Oh, yeah? How?"

She pulled her knees up to her chest as she gave me a proud look over them, brown eyes twinkling. "Jonah may or may not have snuck an extra stash of Jaffa Cakes on board for me. Some extras. And I may or may not be inclined to share."

I began to smile with amusement. "I suppose that could sway me."

Her own smile widened. "What are waiting for? C'mon!"

I laughed as she got off the bed. "What, now?"

"Duh!"

She was already leading the way out of my room, so I went on and followed after her, the two of us eventually settling in her cabin. I got comfortable on her bed as she dug around in her wardrobe before triumphantly pulling out a pack of Jaffa Cakes.

If I'd known Jaffa Cakes were the key to Lara Croft's heart, I would've bought them for her a long time ago. As soon as she pulled them out, she was instantly comfortable, settling on the bed beside me and splitting a few between us.

We fell into conversation about where she was up to with her research and her theories on Yamatai generally, and it was adorable watching how passionate she spoke of it all. One of the few times I'd seen her in her element was when she was working, theorising, researching. Despite only understanding half of what she was saying, I couldn't bear to interrupt because she looked so carefree talking about it.

Only when she was finished sharing her latest theory about the exact location of Yamatai – something we still hadn't decided on as a crew – and Whitman's reluctance to hear her out, did I speak.

"He's got all these degrees, but he doesn't seem very clever," I said what I was thinking, making her chuckle.

"Y/N, c'mon, that's mean," she said in a way that made me think she'd had the same thought too.

"What? It's true!" I defended. "You're a lot smarter than him, Lara. A million degrees or not, he should listen to you."

Her smile softened at my words. "Well, that's nice of you to say. Thank you."

I shrugged, not trying to be nice but genuinely meaning it. Whitman was a TV personality first and an archaeologist second. In the short time we'd spent together, it was easy to see he was only in it for the money and glory, whereas Lara was the prime example of someone with genuine interest in the discovery. It was a shame Whitman couldn't see that.

"What about you anyway?" she spoke, earning my attention. "How's your first voyage on sea?"

"Not bad actually," I said with a nod. "I've never been on a ship before so it's pretty exciting. Plus, it helps that I'm with friends. Those are the best kinds of jobs."

"Aww, you think of me as a friend?" she asked playfully, hand to her chest.

I met her eyes with a deadpan expression. "I was talking about Sam."

She scoffed before launching her pillow at my head, making me laugh as I blocked my face with my arms.

"I'm kidding!" I exclaimed. "But I mean it about the trip. It's fun. Plus, it's a job and it's always nice to get paid."

She rolled her eyes playfully, leaning back again. "What are you planning to do after?"

I looked up in thought before shrugging. "Dunno yet. I'll see what happens, I guess. How about you?"

"I'll probably work with Roth until I figure it out," she admitted.

I watched her with intrigue. "Sam mentioned you love travelling and archaeology. Showed me pictures from those trips you took together back in uni. It seems fitting you'd continue down that path."

A small smile appeared on her lips at the memory. "Yeah, those were fun. And I do, I just..." Her smile faded, a distant look in her eyes. "I'm not sure what to do just yet. My father, he... he started my love for it all, but I suppose I'm still discovering what I'm capable of."

I nodded slowly, though she seemed distracted by thoughts of her father. I recalled Sam mentioning in passing that her dad died when she was young, a famous archaeologist at the time. It was upsetting, but I didn't want Lara to feel like she had to share anything about that with me, so I didn't comment on it.

Instead, I said, "You're capable of a hell of a lot, Lara, I'm sure of it."

She hummed with amusement, lips curving into a smile as she glanced at me. It was clear she didn't believe me, but I hoped she would learn that for herself soon enough.

—

It all happened so quickly, it almost didn't feel real.

One minute I was reading in my cabin, the next a loud crash woke me up and water was flooding the room. It was chaos – the flashing lights, the roar of the ocean, the shouting from the crew – and I could feel hands guiding me out on the deck, towards a boat, but the ship was sinking way too quickly and a wave crashed over us and then nothing.

If I didn't wake up spluttering in the sand, I would've believed I'd died in the crash.

Coughs wracked my body as I spat out seawater in the dark, my eyes barely adjusting in the moonlight. Again, the roar of the ocean filled my ears and I could feel the water rising and falling at my feet where I must have washed up onshore.

It took me a moment to accept I was alive, and then another moment to understand what the hell had happened. I rose to my feet, turning around with wide eyes as I saw remnants of other boats, long-abandoned and crashed on shore. Where the hell was I? Where were the others?

My body was aching and my head was spinning, but I pushed that all aside as I looked around frantically, hoping to see anyone else. If I'd washed up here, surely they had too!

There was no sign of anyone near me and I looked ahead to see the forest, afraid to go anywhere near it, especially at night. But my hesitation was the perfect chance for a stranger to shout out into the night, startling me. I spun around, confused when I saw a creepy man walking towards me. Where the hell had he come from?

And why was he holding a gun?

My eyes widened as his pace picked up, and I didn't think twice as I ran away from him, using the density of the trees to hide my figure from his rising gun. He was shouting to some others, but I refused to stop running despite the bushes whipping me in the face and shredding my clothes.

Nothing was making sense, but I knew I definitely wasn't about to die on some random island.

When I was sure I'd put some distance between us, I hid behind a large tree, pressing my body to the tree trunk and holding my breath. Sweat coated my skin and I felt like I was about to pass out, but I had to find the others. And the only way to do that was to get away from this psycho island native who wanted to kill me.

Five minutes passed where I didn't move a muscle and I was sure I'd escaped, but then hands suddenly grabbed me, making my heart stop, and I was thrown to the ground.

"Where the hell d'you think you're going?" the man snarled from above me, sadistic grin forming on his lips.

I scrambled backwards on my hands, heart thumping in my chest. He pointed his gun at me and I stopped, no choice but to obey.

"Stand up," he ordered.

I swallowed thickly and began to stand slowly, aware of his deadly aim. "Please, I don't know who you are, but–"

"Shut up!" he said, smacking the gun across my face, taking me completely by surprise.

I blinked the stars from my eyes as he grabbed me by my shirt, holding me in place. He said nothing else as he began dragging me forward, but I knew I couldn't let him take me. If I was going to die, I'd at least let it be fighting.

Assuming I was still dazed, he paid no mind when I suddenly elbowed him in the gut. It was his turn to be surprised and I used that to try and take his gun, but he only shoved me off him with force.

Cursing inwardly and starting to panic, I turned around to run away again, but he shot his gun blindly and it skimmed my arm, both the noise and pressure making me falter.

I groaned as I clutched my arm, eyes burning with unshed tears, and then I felt the stranger wrestle me to the ground.

"You little bitch," he grunted, attempting to straddle me.

I kicked him, trying to flee, but all I succeeded in doing was knocking the gun from his hands. He shouted as he forced himself on me, straddling me and wrapping his hands around my throat.

My hands scratched at his skin, trying to make him budge, but he was squeezing so tightly that my breathing was getting cut off.

I tried grabbing around for something, anything, to defend myself with, but I couldn't feel anything nor move my head to see. I struggled, becoming lightheaded, terrified as this sicko's eyes watched from above with adoration, and then I felt it. Some sort of blade, dangling out the pocket of his trousers.

With one swift movement, I jammed it into the side of his head, making him yell and let go immediately. There was blood, I could feel it running down my hand, but I didn't stop as I jammed the blade into his head again, knocking him off me. I did it once more for good measure, the light leaving his eyes and the side of his head gushing with blood, and only when I was sure I was safe and could catch my breath again did I stop.

My throat was sore as I gasped, hand dropping the pocket knife, and that was when I felt the warm blood and looked down. Crimson soaked my hand, splattered across my skin. My eyes drew upwards to the dead body – the body I killed – and the combination of that, my nausea from the crash and the fact that I'd almost died made me throw up.

Tears streamed down my face as I wiped my mouth, body trembling, cold from the water. What had I done? How had I become a murderer so quickly?

My head whipped around when I heard male voices in the distance and I tensed up. Horrified, I got up and left the scene without lingering, running in the opposite direction as far as I could go before I was certain I was alone.

It was still so dark out, the forest becoming more and more terrifying as I stumbled further into it. My ears were perked up, listening for any sound of my friends or my attackers, but I couldn't hear a thing. It only dawned on me when I'd put a lot of distance between me and the body that I stupidly didn't grab the gun, so I found a large stick on the floor and kept a vice-like grip on it as I got more and more lost.

After what felt like forever but was probably only half an hour, I saw light in the distance and hesitantly approached. It was a campfire, which could be good or bad. But when I reached it, nobody was there. Strange.

I looked around cautiously before doing a once over of the ruins the campfire was in, worried I'd stumbled onto a hideout of my attackers. And then I heard a noise and my heart froze in my chest, panic settling in as I feared the worst.

Weapon in hand, I hid behind a crumbling wall, holding my breath for the second time that night. There were footsteps approaching and my grip tightened on the stick in my hand, ready to swing if need be.

As soon as the stranger stepped beside me, about to check my hiding spot, I leapt out and swung my stick with a scream. The stranger ducked just on time, and as I pulled back to swing again, they looked up at me with pleading eyes.

"Y/N!"

I paused, stick falling from my grasp when I recognised Lara standing before me.

"Oh my god, Lara," I blubbered, ever so relieved to see a familiar face, before meeting her halfway in a tight embrace. Half crying, I continued, "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought– they were following me and they– I–"

"It's okay, it's just me," she assured me, before pulling back slightly, and she looked as worse for wear as I felt.

Her eyes tracked my expression, down to my blood-splattered clothes, and I knew what she was thinking. Shame and guilt and fear all suffocated me under her gaze.

"I didn't mean to," I said weakly, shaking my head. "I didn't, but he was gonna– he tried to–"

"Hey, it's okay, I understand," she said with concern, pulling me in for another hug. "It's okay."

I tried to calm myself, but I couldn't stop trembling with both fear and relief. At least I wasn't alone anymore.

"You're hurt," I realised when I pulled back, spotting a dark patch on her shirt, where her stomach was. "Shit, Lara, are you–?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, though her hand resting on the wound wasn't promising, neither was her rattled expression.

"Lara–"

"I think I know where the others are," she cut me off before I could question her. "We should find them. We're not alone out here."

Her tone of voice made me realise she'd had her own fight with some island natives. Was that how she'd gotten hurt?

I nodded, squeezing her hand as comfortingly as I could, considering. "Let's go."

—

The next two days were the worst of my life, of all of our lives, no doubt.

Sam had been taken by the island natives, who worshipped the Sun Queen, Himiko, which was coincidentally who this whole expedition was about. The island we'd washed up on was Yamatai, but nobody could have expected it to be this deadly. Lara and Dr. Whitman were separated from Jonah, Alex, Reyes and I, as were Roth and Grim.

I was certain we were going to die, especially when we were locked up in a cell, dangling like bait. But Lara did the impossible and saved us all, even bringing Sam back.

We escaped to a different part of the island where Reyes thought she could revive an old boat for us to escape on. But Lara thought it was impossible, theorising that the island was stopping us from leaving – that Himiko was. Naturally, Reyes thought she was insane, especially after we just lost Roth, Grim and Alex.

"It was your idea to come here and look what happened?!" Reyes shouted at Lara harshly.

"Reyes," Jonah said in a disappointed voice.

"What? It's true!" Reyes retorted without an ounce of remorse. "It was her idea to head in this direction. We're in this mess because of her!"

"That's not fair, Reyes," I said with a frown.

"No, she's right," Lara agreed with a neutral expression, giving nothing away. "This is my fault. But I'm telling you, even if we fix the boat, we won't be able to leave. I found something, a way we might be able to control the storms. But–"

"Save it," Reyes snapped. "I'll be fixing this boat and leaving. With or without you."

She stormed off as Jonah sighed and went after her. Meanwhile Sam gave me a knowing look before wrapping an arm around Lara.

"We aren't leaving without you," she promised, but Lara only sighed and shrugged Sam off.

"You won't be leaving at all unless we can control these storms," Lara pointed out. "I'm going to see what the caves reveal. A soldier's entry talks about something we can use."

"Lara," Sam said, meeting her eyes. "Can't you just–?"

"It's the only way, Sam," Lara said, and a hint of guilt was in her voice. "I'm gonna get us all home. I have to."

Sam frowned, but pulled her in for a hug. "Be safe."

"I will," Lara promised, squeezing her best friend.

Sam joined the others as I quirked a brow at Lara.

"What?" she asked, shuffling uncomfortably under my stare.

"You can't just go back out there, not when a bunch of crazy people are trying to kill us," I told her, stepping forward.

"Please, don't make me try to convince you too," Lara groaned.

"Reyes was wrong, what she said," I said, finding her eyes. "None of this is your fault. You couldn't have known–"

"We came because I thought I knew what I was doing," Lara cut me off abruptly, before flinching at the harshness of it. "I have to fix this."

I frowned, studying her guilt-laden eyes. She was too stubborn to listen to me, and annoyingly enough, I believed what she was saying about the storms and the island stopping us from leaving. There was something seriously paranormal going on. And if she could find a way to stop it, she should.

"Fine," I gave in, making her raise her brows. "But let me come with you."

She shook her head instantly. "I'll be quicker on my own–"

"Lara–"

"You'll only slow me down," she added.

"I can help, I'll be–"

"I said no!" she snapped, startling me. Closing her eyes briefly, she breathed out. "We've lost too many. I can't risk losing another. I won't have you dying on me, Y/N."

I took her hand in mine, glad when she opened her eyes to look at me. "And what about you? Who stops you dying on me?"

She pursed her lips, saying nothing, but the determination was still present and I knew I couldn't sway her.

"Be careful," I pleaded, pulling her in for a hug. "And come back. Please."

She nodded slowly, returning my hug. "I will."

#lara croft x reader #lara croft x you #lara croft imagine #tomb raider #tomb raider imagine #lara croft #tomb raider 2013

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orbdotexe · 4 days

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Under pressure and request from both Osiris and Shin Malphur, Drifter seeks out the Young Wolf early in their exile. He's not sure he'd say it went well, but it certainly could've gone much, much worse. And hey; Shin was right, new friends are new friends. Alternatively: Two rogue Guardians play horse plinko with each other before agreeing to an exchange of favors.

I finally did it- A Questionably Fortunate Encounter's rewrite. I have no idea how I got the motivation to finish this, it wasn't even half done when I picked it back up, but here it is in time for TFE's (concept's) 2nd birthday! I am significantly happier with this than the original, you have no idea. It wasn't even a thousand words and now it's like 20 words from being 2k, and overall? Everything just has more character + an extra page of interaction and the end note being from Ghost instead of Drifter. and being accurate to more story details! I kept a lot of the parts i thought were funny tho, if moved them around-

[old ver. ao3] --- [new ver. ao3]

The Sundial. A ballsy idea from a mad warlock.

Knocking a few times on the side, he can’t help the chills down his spine at the whispers ringing in his ears. “If you short-circuit the universe, you’re on your own.” He snips, his already uneasy grin wavering.

“If I make a mistake here, you might cease to exist,” the old Warlock says simply, though there’s a questioning edge to it.

Drifter only shrugs. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

Osiris squints at him as Drifter moves around the machine, checking the stability. “We haven’t talked about payment.”

Drifter’s grin smooths out some, sly now. “If you live through this little experiment, you can be sure I’ll be back to collect.”

A simple ‘hm’ is the only response he gets for a few seconds, before Osiris starts again.

“There’s a Guardian you should meet.”

“Yeah, yeah, so I’ve heard. Some bigshot—Can’t wait.”

"Drifter."

—

The Warlock and that old Hunter had their points—The Young Wolf needed people on their side, and it's not like Drifter couldn't use the opportunity. He figured, if worst comes to worst, just say Osiris sent him. It seemed the best bet; he heard the two of them had been on good terms, and Osiris wouldn’t have sent him without reason.

This was, regardless, a horrible idea.

Which was very quickly weighing him down as he waited just inside their most recent hideout; a willing, sitting duck in the path of a hellhound. Then again, Shin would be waiting for him, just the same, to see if he really went through with it. A rock and a hard place, if both were unmovable walls.

—

Eventually, the Kingbreaker did show up—and they looked pissed—but they didn't seem to quite notice him, yet.

Their Ghost, on the other hand, had stopped at the door, and was switching between glaring at him, and watching its Guardian. It was a bare hope, but he almost prayed for the Little Light to let the Guardian notice him by themself—for what good it would do.

Drifter had to admit, though, they looked like Hell—In both the shit way and the eternal punishment way—And he'd quite like to keep them from being his punishment, thanks.

They were never in the same place for long, constantly tapping their fingers or wringing their hands. He'd almost call it a nervous habit; if the jerky, almost corpse-twitching movements didn't make him feel like they'd pounce on him at any given moment. It gave the distinct impression of a Taken, a fact he took no comfort in. He had told Shin they would be unpredictable, but recordings didn’t capture just how much.

The Guardian’s posture was rather slumped, in spite of their twitchiness, but he was rather certain he was a pinch taller than them; though it could be their hunch. That dead-eyed and bone-deep tiredness that seeped off of them… The Guardian stumbled whenever they walked, off-balance. Injured, maybe.

They looked as unstable on their feet as he imagined they were mentally.

He rapped his fingers on the tabletop he was leaning against, a slight knot in his stomach building on the question of ‘How to get their attention without getting pinned as a threat?’

Questionably fortunate enough, and probably should’ve been expected; the tapping made them pause, and he'd almost compare the frozen movement to their namesake freezing to listen. They nearly looked like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't be, or as if a sudden red dot (or dozen) had appeared on their chest.

The Young Wolf then snapped to look at him, eyes narrowed and hand beginning to raise to their sword. Their Ghost noticed, and took it as a sign to speak up; "What do you think you’re doing here? Who are you?" For being the Ghost of an exile, its voice was strikingly uptight. Drifter had expected an edge to the voice, but not for it to be pedant.

"Mind your business, Ghost," he drawled. Their head jolted up a fraction. "Just want a talk with your Guardian, is all-"

Their Ghost flicked back a bit, only to be replaced by its Guardian stepping up close to him. Well… he got their attention, at least.

His gut twisted in knots as the seconds passed like that—far, far too close for comfort. "How about we just… back up for a moment, yeah? Think this all through?" Like he hadn’t. He should have told that Warlock and Shin to shove their requests back down their throats.

The Guardian tilted their head, the action more unnerving than anything else, reminding Drifter of a certain other Hunter, and he was unsure if it was an acknowledgement or a threat. They refused to look anywhere but his eyes, and he swore they leaned a bit closer.

He raises his hands to push them back a bit, but thinks better of touching them. He opts to just slide back a bit, instead– except they match his step. He does not take another one. That definitely wasn't good.

"I'll ask again: Who are you?" The Ghost hovers over its Guardian’s shoulder as they tilt their head to allow it to take the center of Drifter’s vision. Their dynamic is clear, but he tries to focus on them.

"Your old man Osiris didn't mention me?” Drifter tries to say, “I’m hurt–”

"You will be hurt–" the Ghost starts, just as the Guardian grips his collar. There’s a moment the Drifter is almost certain they were going to slam him into the wall.

"Alright, alright—” he tries to interrupt, “Just back up.”

It takes them a moment, and a couple glances between him and the Ghost, but they do back up, if not letting go of his collar. He tries to quietly let out the breath he’d been holding, nerves a bit strung. Their emotions are as on-a-dime as he thought. Damn this plan. The Ghost eyes him expectantly.

"You can call me Drifter; I run a little… operation outta the Tower." Their face somehow pulls even further in a grimace. “Now, I know how that sounds, but I’m not working with the Vanguard—Trust. Wouldn’t be here if I was: Heard about your… dislike of ‘em.”

He gives them a grin when they don’t make another move, though not optimistic. Watching every little change in their expression doesn’t give him much hope, either, given the hard line in their brow now.

"That old Phoenix of yours pointed me your way, and I figured we both could make use of the others'... skills. I've got the connections, and you've guts enough to attack your own–”

The Drifter hardly has time to blink before his back is against the wall again, this time with a knife to his throat, sharp eyes glaring down at him—So it's like that. Osiris might've downplayed the sore spot; Drifter can’t even get away with a tease. He’s good at pushing buttons, but their reservations broke immediately.

He counts by the seconds as the Young Wolf silently dares him to say it again.

While he decidedly opts not to and tries to think of a way to de-escalate his mistake, he has… an inane thought: They’re taller than him… Not by too much, but the thought gives him an idea potentially worse than even the meeting itself was; something mischievous glinting in his eye and, as an added bonus, giving the Guardian pause.

"...Kinky." Feeling their hold loosen somewhat and seeing their brow twitch, Drifter pushes the joke with a sly grin and a cant to the side. “I didn’t realize you swung like that, Killer…”

Drifter’s eyes flick towards the Ghost at the undoubtably horrified, near-static chiming it makes as it rapidly recoils. “Are you… trying to flirt your way out of this–”

The Guardian’s expression seems of someone entirely bewildered by a puzzle in front of them. As they loosened their hold in what he could only assume was disbelief, Drifter had to stop himself from laughing—in relief, at the absurdity, or at their reaction.

“Nahh… Just seizing an opportunity, you’d understand,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. There’s a moment of silence, the Guardian and their Ghost both searching his face, and it's everything he can do not to break—Either into a sweat or into a fit of laughter.

"...what the hell is wrong with you?" is the only response he got from the Ghost, the top fold of its shell covering half its eye. Drifter can only assume it's meant to be a mimicry of a dead-stare.

"Many things!” He gives a toothy grin that splits his face as he chuckles, “Next question."

The Ghost makes a show of rolling its eye, while the Guardian still looks like their mind has shattered, eyes seeming to search the wall through him for answers. The Ghost seems to take notice of its Guardian’s… inoperable state, and pipes up again, terse, “So what do you want?”

He’s really going to have to cut a deal with the Ghost, instead, isn’t he? As Drifter slowly tugs the Guardian’s hand from his collar—which they thankfully do not resist—he gives the Ghost the greasiest side-eye he can manage. “Well, as I was saying before your Guardian interrupted me,” it mimics narrowing its eye as he speaks. “I hear you two need friends, and, well, I’m always looking for more of those.”

“Just get to the point,” the Ghost pushes, tone flat. The Guardian seems to only vaguely be paying attention.

“Them and I could both use the support, so I suggest an… exchange.”

“An exchange? What is that– You mean, glimmer?” The Ghost interrupts itself with flicking its shell around itself and letting out a short chirr. “Information? We have nothing you’d want in that.”

“Nah, I don’t want any of that. If anything, I’m offering—You two just gotta do some favors for me in return. How’s that sound?” At the mention of favors, the Guardian refocuses; eyes widening some before narrowing and scanning him in search of some catch. “Just a job or two; you scratch my back, I scratch yours, yeah? Nothing you wouldn’t already do, of course.”

At the skeptical, almost blank looks from both of them, Drifter’s grin tightens some. “Favor for favor make sense to you?” He’s tempted to ask if they’ve got cotton in their ears. The pair take a long glance at each other, and he can only see the slight twitching in both’s expressions.

“...And how do we know we can trust you?” Finally comes an answer, again from the Ghost, but one that’s more assuring than it probably should be.

“Your old man asked me here, didn’t I say? I wouldn't risk this without a good word.” That, or without Shin over his shoulder. He turns his eye back to its Guardian and offers them a hand, “So, whaddya say? Give it a shot, hotshot?”

The Ghost trills in some semblance of worry as the Guardian cautiously eyes him and his hand, body canted away from him, before hesitantly taking his hand. Their hold is slight and feels like they would rather writhe away from him, but they hold just long enough to shake his hand.

“Heyy, don’t be like that, now. Friends take care of friends, yeah? Trust.” The Guardian grimaces at his words. Maybe that odd adage of insects had a bit more truth to it than he realized.

They’re more scared of you than you are of them?

—

Hours later, the Drifter far gone, and his Guardian was still kind of distracted. Honestly, Ghost would be lying if he said he wasn’t mind-broke by that as well. Who, in any sane state of mind, would do any of that? Sneak into an ill exile’s hideout, startle and piss them off, and then try to make a deal?

And why did it… actually work?

Ghost must be losing it.

#idk the pacing might be slightly off still in some places but i like it!#i could hardly stand to read the old version anymore so being able to compare them side by side? im not very easy on myself about these #things but. DAMN ive gotten a lot better huh #i would probably delete the old ver but. idk people might like something in there that i didnt put in this ver so itll stay up #the forsaken exile #destiny 2 #anyway yeah im very asleep as this is being posted bc i scheduled it for the minute discord says that message was originally sent #so like. 5:54am. and i dont have to get up at that time tomorrow so im... just not lmao #god. ive been brainrotting about an exile timeline for Destiny for two years...#i am actually ill i think. NOT sane behavior #but hey! i wouldve never gotten back into writing after not touching it since like. early middle school or smth (?? honestly dont remember)#if not for this AU. beloved #im not sure words can describe how important this thing is to me. aaaaaaaaaaaaa #eepy and getting sappy now. time to shut up!!!#anyway yeah Shin knew (or. thought he knew. its *Shin*) Drifter would get attached. the old snake fell for #the oldest trick in the book (forced exposure -> eventually friendly)#(Shin did not consider that thats not really how that works but thats okay)#i feel i should clarify. bc there isnt really much of a way to tell-- Osiris talks to Drifter first. and THEN Shin talks to him.#we be havin canon lore problems now huh...

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munamania · 2 months

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um yall… sam’s roommate pulled up to coffee like. um. dressed like this. btw. and their hair is just like. a better fluffier mullet. is this surprising

#just wanna express what i’m dealing with btw because the hair thing sort of hit me like a truck earlier and then i was like #well girl wait… literally… come on lmao… also we both wore sweatervests hashtag twinem #it’s so chill though coffee was really fun #we ended up hanging for like two hours and then i was like fuckkkkk g2g to class and they walked w me partway there #and then almost dapped me up gave me a hug at the worst possible intersection there were so many people walking fuck the construction fr #but like. yeah it was chill im glad i reached out even tho like idk things r... ok.. w sam but we’re certainly not like 🤞#and i think they just had a semi recent breakup and drama and im like. um. largely unwell #and need 2 just get through this semester so i rlly forced myself to chill and go in with no expectations and it was just :-)#i was charmed by how passionate he was talking abt the weather and stuff like within minutes of meeting #i was listening to a very excited spiel about el nino and the tornadoes in wisconsin and etc oh and they came up w an ocean fact for me #and also ugh they played piano for so long growing up and can still like. do it. fucckcjkkk. and demonstrated #this rlly odd chord. um. like stretching and flexing their hand. srrryy lol i’m just giggling #lol and i mentioned my hair journey at one point and they were like ‘yeah? tell me about it’ shut UP… oh and also #knew exactly the stairwell i was talking abt when i described my favorite and we managed to chat abt that ugh it was so dorky #like. aw wow this person is just really cool #i also think they’re stupid hot but like idk since we actually um communicated and etc it's taken out a lot of the #tendency i had/have to be like 'sigh what if -' and er mythologize ppl. i suppose could be said. like aw we're just yapping and we're loyal #story likers now and if they ever want to just like make out sometime that’s so chill but regardless like we ball 💪#yayyyyyayyyyy me when i can be normal about things!!!!! 🫶🙈#abby talks

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lonesomedotmp3 · 1 year

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guy who didn't take their stop getting panicked and freaking out at everything and having unbearable heart palpitations and being unable to sleep pill voice guess who's feeling panicked and won't stop freaking out at everything and is having unbearable heart palpitations and can't sleep!! el oh el!

#i was like it's fine i don't even need them. dude there is a reason you went to all that effort to get them...#IDIOT!!#i know i complain on here alllll the time (follow for more complaining!) but you have no idea the extent to which i get through the day by #just not thinking about it. or thinking about it for two minutes then forcing myself to just. move on to anything else.#if i let myself spiral (like i did february) all of the time i simply would stop taking part in my life #because it's unbearable if you think about it. so i don't. but the constant pointed Not Thinking About It is exhausting #and the constant enduring is exhausting the constant Taking What I Can Get is EXHAUSTING (hence. the february breakdown)#and now nothing is BETTER it's just. child psychology voice kill yourself or get over it. and so i got over it. but that's not LIVING.#and my parent's think i'm just fine now because i'm fucking on the pill or whatever and i'm trying anxiety meds etc etc #but fundamentally the truth is the same (i'm not built to be happy and i wasn't built for this life)#and i'm just back to the trying! the trying and trying and trying and swallowing pills and practicing tai chi and #opening the windows and eating oranges and sharing poems and appreciating the little things #i'm tired of appreciating little things. i want big things!#and no i won't kill myself. if you keep living there is some chance life will become worth living at some point however low #and if you die then that chance drops to zero. so fine. whatever. i'll get over it #but this isn't good. this isn't a good life! every day i have to wake up and remember there's nothing here for me!!!!#YES every day is a renewed chance that life will become good but how can i not be burdened from every day that came before that was just #nothing?#something has to change and I'VE tried changing i'm ALWAYS changing it's always ME #a new mindset a new coping mechanism and new positive mental attitude #but that doesn't fix that fundamentally life as it is for me is Not Worth It. ok. if i have to live the rest of my life trying to rewire my #brain so it feels whatever sense of hope it can from the Tiny Little Things that aren't completely miserable and desolate like a stranger's #kindness or a nice treat from a shop or a pretty skyline. if that's all i'll ever get?#what are we doing.#in conclusion: let's create life 2 where everything is so so beautiful for everyone

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reflectionsofgalaxies · 1 year

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#so I’m back on my meds #the ones that actually help but have HELLA side effects #started losing weight almost right away #didn’t notice I wasn’t eating until I was getting the tingles and losing vision a couple days in #been focusing on forcing myself to eat #but yesterday I made the mistake of smoking bc I was feeling a bit better #BAD idea #was making hot chocolate when my blood pressure just plummeted #made it to the living room and put myself in recovery postition #I don’t think I fully lost consciousness bc I stayed kneeling #but I lost time but when I was are again I was still kneeling and usually I’d be on my side after fully losing consciousness #but it also lasted a full like 45 minutes where I couldn’t sit up or move #it took about two hours before I was able to make it back upstairs #I texted my dad to let him know what was going on just in case but he missed my texts so I also reached out to another friend #and asked them to check in after a bit to make sure I was still awake #which they did and I was #but now today I just took my temp on a whim bc I’ve been really warm all day #turns out I have a fever of 100.6 which isn’t super high but is high for me #and like that definitely partially explains yesterday #took a Covid test and came back negative #this really kinda sucks #mood: great #energy: more than normal #BUT dizzy can’t stop shaking keep getting spots in vision and have visibly lost weight #like. . . I feel like I could actually DO things and I WANT to do things thanks to these meds #but body clearly has other ideas #anyway I’ve only been back on them like a week and a half the side effects will start to subside in a few more weeks and I’ll be okay #but I gotta keep reminding myself to eat bc last time I was on these I lost 14lbs in about a month #anyway just me rambling about health #personal

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distantdarlings · 4 months

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HESITATING // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a trip to Hogsmeade, you realize that Theo seems to get an awful lot of attention from girls. To avoid getting hurt, you start to distance yourself from him to rid yourself of your crush. But Theo is not having it. (Smut)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, praise kink, slight body worship, biting (one time), fem reader, language, one time skip, dom!Theo (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

more than friends - Isabel LaRosa

---

Your eyes found the clock on your bedside table. You were supposed to meet Theo in the Great Hall in ten minutes, yet you stood completely still in your dorm, switching back and forth between two outfits. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have the usual crutch of your school uniform, hence the inability to decide.

As the year progressed, the temperature dropped outside as well as within the castle. When chills were scattered across your arms in class, your teeth were almost clacking together. At the thought, a small shiver went through you.

You decided on a heavier sweater and jeans, noting that if you were cold in the warmth of your dorm, you’d likely be cold in the stone Great Hall.

You slipped the outfit on, selecting a thick pair of socks and a ratty pair of shoes you’d had since fourth year. It wasn’t the most stunning style, but it was efficient and comfortable. Five minutes to go.

You slipped your wand into your back pocket and headed toward the hallway, slipping the dorm door closed behind you. Theo was likely already there with his group of friends, ones you liked to call friends, as well. The sons of big names around Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, though they were just boys to you.

As you arrived at the grand doors of the Great Hall, the boys in question caught your eye and shot excited waves at you. While some of them had a bit more pride than others, they always seemed happy to see you. A smile broke across your face as you walked over to the Slytherin table, claiming the space between Theo and Mattheo.

“Hello there, darling,” Theo purred in your ear when the group went back to their conversation. A twinge of heat flared in your chest. You hid a smile.

“Miss me?” You asked, voice low. He smiled.

“Of course I did.” He threw a playful arm over your shoulder. Though it seemed to be a friendly gesture, it felt like a claim to you. A claim by him placed onto you, alerting all who you belonged to. It made you embarrassingly happy.

“Any plans today, boys?” You asked. The group turned to you.

“Actually, we were thinking of heading down to Hogsmeade for the day,” Mattheo said. “We were going to ask if you wanted to go with us?”

“I’d love to, as long as I’m not forcing myself on the group,” you said, only half-joking.

“Of course not,” said Enzo, a sweet smile on his face. “We love hanging out with you.”

“Yeah?” You teased. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“You know we like you,” he joked, running a mean hand over your head, tousling your hair. You exclaimed and pushed his hand away, laughing along with the dark boy.

“We definitely do,” Theo laughed, pulling you tighter against him for a moment.

“Well, alright,” You laughed. “Heading there now?”

“Yes!” Enzo clapped his hands together and stood, already headed toward the door. The rest of you laughed and made to follow him.

“What about jackets? It’s cold out there!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands over your arms.

“Ah, I’ve prepared for that,” Theo said, picking up two jackets that had been placed beside where he’d once sat. You hadn’t noticed them originally.

He selected the smaller brown one and slipped it over your shoulder while he pushed his arms through the black one.

“Theo!” You exclaimed, running your hands over the nice corduroy material. “Where on earth did you get this? Whose is this?”

“Yours, of course,” he laughed as the four of you exited the castle and headed down the cobblestone path to Hogsmeade.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Call it an early Christmas gift,” he said, smiling smugly.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in one of the shops last weekend and thought of you.”

If you weren’t the wiser, you’d have thought your heart had melted and poured down through your rib cage. A blush filled your cheeks and your stomach at the thought of Theo thinking of you and then buying something.

“Thank you, Theo,” you sighed. He laughed and shrugged it off as if he hadn’t just made your whole week, if not your whole decade.

The whole way down to Hogsmeade, your heart refused to let go of your brain. The pink filter that had been placed before your eyes glowed brightly. This little crush of yours seemed to have elevated a bit, but you’d never admit that, of course.

The group stopped before the Three Broomsticks, eager to slip into the cozy building’s warmth and order several rounds of Butterbeer.

The four of you pushed through the door and selected a round booth near one of the back windows. Enzo and Mattheo headed to the front counter to order for the group.

“Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked, naturally sliding his arm around the back of the booth behind you.

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to stick with the three of you,” you suggested.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled, playfully tugging on a piece of your hair. He was hoping you’d say that?

“Here we are!” Enzo cheered, placing two pints of Butterbeer on the table before the two of you. Mattheo was close behind him, carrying two for the both of them. They slid into the booth beside Theo, with you and Mattheo on the ends and Theo and Enzo between you. It felt comfortable.

Between each of your smiles, all with different personalities, you’d found a very safe space to stay. Every moment with these people made up a memory you knew you’d remember until you could no longer. Nothing could have ruined this evening.

“Oh, my God!” A loud voice said, drawing the syllables out. The four of you turned to look at the unfamiliar face standing before your table. “Teddy? Is that you?”

“Teddy?” You asked, wrinkling your nose at the nickname.

“Holy shit. Laverna!” Theo laughed. “How long has it been?”

“A while! I’ve just been visiting recently and thought I’d stop by Hogsmeade after not having seen it for so long.”

The girl standing before your table was incredibly gorgeous, with flowing platinum hair that reached the bottom of her spine and shocking blue eyes. Her skin appeared flawless and luminescent beneath the comforting lights within the restaurant. A fire of jealousy broiled in your chest.

“Guys, this is Laverna,” Theo introduced her. “We were pretty close before her family moved to France, and she transferred to Beauxbatons.”

“That’s me!” she giggled. It sounded like she even had a hint of a French accent. You struggled not to roll your eyes.

“I was just going to get a drink. Do you want to catch up a bit?” she asked.

Theo ushered Mattheo and Enzo out of the booth. A bit confused, they got to their feet and allowed the boy next to them to slide out and give a hug to the beautiful woman. You sipped your Butterbeer.

The other two boys sat back down and glanced up at you in scattered patterns. You ignored their eyes. You were pretty sure they knew about your little crush. Scratch that. They definitely knew.

Over your shoulder, you could hear the two of them laughing and carrying on. You attempted to ignore the burning in your cheeks. Mattheo and Enzo nursed their drinks, fidgeting randomly.

A few moments of randomized chatting passed before Theo finally came back, a poignant smile still painted over his lips. You looked away from him.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed, scooting in next to Mattheo. You tried not to think about the fact that he didn’t sit next to you. You were being dramatic.

“Alright, where to next?” He asked. The four of you discussed what to do with the rest of your day with random store names circling about. The final agreement was to head over to Honeydukes to enjoy some of their Christmas sales, and so Enzo could stock the small jar that sat beneath his bed. He tended to snack throughout the night as he was tending to assignments, refusing sleep.

You gathered together and made your way through the small town, window-shopping here and there. Every time you pouted over Theo’s seemingly obvious interest in the gorgeous girl, you remembered the jacket currently around you. Theo cared about you. Was it the way you wanted him to? You weren’t sure.

Once inside the colorful store, the four of you split and wandered your separate ways, each looking for different sweets. You always headed right toward the chocolate frogs, eager to extend your vast collection of cards. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but who cared? It was a fun hobby.

You stopped before the rack piled high with the blue boxes and stared. You tried to guess which one would have a card you’d never gotten before, conjuring up every ounce of intuition you had.

With another second of thought, you chose the one sitting on the shelf directly in front of your face. You were excited to open it with Theo; he always loved to see you add to your collection.

You turned the box over in your hands, examining the packaging. Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red caught your attention. You turn to the left and notice Theo laughing aloud, talking with that same girl, Laverna, and another girl. A dark-haired goddess with blushed cheeks and a perfect figure. Fuck’s sake.

The urge to crush the chocolate box in your hand flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes and headed further into the store, trying to put distance between the two of you.

Mattheo was standing against a wall, browsing a rack of magazines, occasionally picking one to flip through. You stopped before him, leaning up against the same wall.

“Pouting, are you?” He asks, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. You scoff.

“No, I’m not…I’m just…,” you sigh and close your eyes.

“Just in love?” He asked, glancing up at you with a smirk.

“Fuck off,” you groaned. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was. You didn’t know. An exhausted sigh left your lips.

Uproarious laughter sounded from the corner. You recognized one of the laughs as Theo’s. The others belonged to women. That was it.

“Okay, I’m heading back to the castle,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Tell Theo I wasn’t feeling well or something.”

“What? Are you sure?” Mattheo asked, finally dropping the magazine. “We still want you here with us.”

“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” you said. “I think I’ll just head back for a nap until dinner.” And with that, you paid for your candy and headed back to the castle.

xxx

Over the next week, you made an unintentional decision to skip meals with the group. You weren’t trying to avoid them—or maybe you were—but you found yourself wanting to be alone more and more the past few days.

The thought of having to see Theo after Saturday, when he had the attention of half the girls in Hogsmeade, made you want to vomit. Perhaps it was jealousy pushing you away, but it was your anxiety keeping you there. Every time you thought of heading back to eat with the group, you reminded yourself that Theo hadn’t tried to reach out since you’d stopped seeing them. If he wanted to, he would, right?

With your decision to keep away from the boys for a while, you’d taken to eating in your dorm over your lunch break. Nobody else was ever in there, and it was kind of comfortable, to be honest. You would nibble on your meal and read, or draw, or whatever came to mind, and it was nice and quiet.

You set your book on your bed and gathered the little meal you’d prepared for yourself. Pulling the covers back, you settled in and grabbed your novel. This was absolutely lovely after a busy morning.

Just as you’d begun to settle yourself into the routine you’d started the previous week, two shouts of your name shot through the air. Before the disappointment and onset of anxiety came shock. Was that Theo?

Rapid steps grew closer and closer until the dormitory door echoed a gentle knock as if the person behind it had slowed down just as they’d arrived.

“Um…who is it?” You asked awkwardly.

“Baby, it’s Theo,” a breathless voice came from behind the door. “Please open the door. Please. I need to talk to you.”

Baby? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? The shocked mantra rushed through your head as you shakily ripped your comforter away, ignoring your food and book.

You slowly pulled the door open, seeing a nervous Theo. His eyes were shot with blushed red, and his lips were swollen. Had he been crying?

“Theo, what—?”

“Please, can I come in?” he asked. His breath exited his body in short, rough pants. You nodded wide-eyed and moved out of the way. He pushed into the room, walking to the center of the room. His hands pushed through his hair repeatedly.

You pushed the door closed and pushed the lock. When you turned, he did the same, eyes on yours. His eyebrows were furrowed together, desperation painted on his face. His lips were parted, his eyes wanting.

“What is it—?”

“You have to tell me what I’ve done,” he begged. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days; the boys say you’re mad at me, that you might not come back—what the fuck are they talking about?” he demands, his eyes wide.

Your lips parted stupidly. No words came, no matter how hard you searched for them. The only thought that could process within your brain was how you were gonna kill Enzo and Mattheo for saying such stupid things to him. If anything, they were likely trying to get him to come and talk to you—which, it seems, has worked.

“Theo,” you cave, “it’s not that I wasn’t returning or mad at you…I was…” You could barely get the words out. He watched you with intent and pressure. It felt as though you were about to suffocate.

“What? Please tell me. What’s wrong?” He begged, his voice cracking. He moved toward you, his hands raising to touch you, then hesitating and dropping. A line of shimmering tears pool within his eyes, and the pure shock of seeing Theo about to cry had your lips parting again.

“I was…,” you groan, “…jealous.” You practically whispered the last part.

“Wait, what?” He gasped, his eyes widening even further.

“Theo, please don’t make me repeat it,” you sighed, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m embarrassed as is, I was jealous of those girls from last Saturday. I felt like every time I saw you, you were making another girl laugh, and they were all fucking perfect, of course, and I-I like you so much, Theo—”

His hands pressed to either side of your face, his fingers tight and warm. His eyes were widened, his breaths heavy.

“No more,” he breathed, “please, tell me to stop, and I will, but I have to…”

His lips pressed roughly to yours, his breath more like pants. He kissed you like you were air, his lips desperate and biting. The sound he pressed against your mouth was like one of relief. You gasped against him, finally realizing where you truly were and what was happening. Your fingers tightened in his hair, begging him closer to you.

“I n-need you,” he shivered against your lips, breath shuddering. You nodded fervently, barely having time to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands placed themselves around your thighs. He yanked you into the air and placed himself on your bed, settling you over his lap. The way he’d forced you to straddle him pressed his firming core against yours, sending a shock of excitement through your body.

His fingers began to quickly work the buttons of your shirt apart. When the fabric was finally split down the middle, he pressed his mouth to the top of your breasts, mouthing hot kisses against the soft flesh there. You sighed softly, letting your head fall back to allow him all the necessary room.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbles against you. Your fingers brush through his curled hair, gently scraping against his scalp every so often. The feeling of his lips against you made your heart race to the point of beating against his tongue.

Much to your dismay, he pulled away and shoved you back. You fell against the foot of the bed, completely helpless as he climbed over you. The domineering air he carried with him spread over your body, rendering it pliant beneath his searing touch.

His fingers gently cradled your hips as he worked his mouth over your stomach, dipping his tongue across every curve and dip, savoring the taste of sweat that slid down your skin. As his lips heated your skin, the shaking breaths he blew through his nose cooled it down and had you reeling. The ceiling above you was all but spinning.

He followed the curve of your body all the way up to your mouth, allowing his tongue to learn every inch of your abdomen. When his lips found yours again, the both of you were panting. The only thing standing between the two of you was your uniforms.

With a burst of confidence thanks to his session of worship, you gently cradled him in your hands, applying slight pressure against his most sensitive area. At the touch, he choked against you, sucking in a rough breath.

“Please,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you. I'll do anything.” He whispered your name. Over and over and over. Begging and begging.

“Anything?” You smirked, watching as his eyes seemed to well up with the same liquid. He nodded quickly.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whispered. And if it wasn’t like giving someone a million bucks.

“Thank you,” he whispered, a wave of relief washing across his face. The obvious desire written across his face and actions had you feeling wanted and gorgeous. The confidence built by the second.

His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your thighs. At the sight of the thin bottoms you had on, a slow moan pushed itself between his lips. “Fuck,” he whispered.

His thumb came down to slowly swipe down the center of your core through your bottoms. You jolted at the soft action, not prepared for it. A smile spread over his face.

He gently pushed the fabric to the side, reveling in the feeling of the white lace against his fingertips. Once he’d revealed you, an even louder moan escaped from him. Only a moment passed before he pressed two fingers to his lips, coating them with a thick layer of saliva. He pulled them from his lips and began to lather you in himself.

Your lips parted in a breathy whine at the feeling. His fingers were gentle but direct, only brushing the most sensitive spots before slowly filling you up to the hilt of his fingers.

“Fuck, you just opened right up for me,” he groaned. His words sent shocks of lightning through your stomach. His skilled fingers stretched you out perfectly, preparing you for what was to come. The want in his eyes was growing darker and darker, imagining the next few minutes. It was all too much; you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please, Theo, just fuck me,” you whined, “no more.”

“Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry about that,” he whispered. “‘ve been dreaming about this cunt for months.” He makes quick work of his trousers, roughly ripping the clinking belt from its loops. He separates the button and pushes them down, revealing the dark briefs that framed every muscular curve.

He separated your legs and placed himself neatly between them. His hands reached down to agonizingly trace himself up and down your core. You moaned at the feeling, bucking your hips against his warmth. You attempted to salvage any of his warmth, begging for the feeling of him within you.

When he finally pushed himself into you, there was no resistance. The sounds that left your mouth chorused each other, echoing across the dorm room. He gave only a few seconds for you to adjust before building his pace rapidly. The pure length of him hit everything within you with ease. This time, there were tears welling up in your eyes as he abused every inch of you.

Sweet nothings left his mouth as he pushed roughly into you. His strong hips showed no weakness, and the hands that gripped you branded bruises against your flesh. Every second of this moment would visit you for years to come, promising you’d never find someone like Theo. He was the body made to fit perfectly against yours, with the intent to love and please and hold. And, fuck, if he wasn’t doing exactly that.

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he reached down and pulled you quickly against his chest. Out of habit, your arms wrapped around his neck. Despite the change in position, he never let up on his speed or brutality. The only thing you could feel was his strong hands bouncing you up and down him. His teeth pressed into your neck, piercing the soft flesh there. And that was what did it for you.

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak. As you came down from your high, you could barely keep your hold around him. His arms tightened around you, holding you up as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too. The feeling of his release pouring within you and every thrust he performed to push it back within you pulled you out for the final moment.

Stars danced around your head as he finally set you back down against the bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he had done prior. The contrast of his touch against you as he pushed the wet hair clinging to your forehead was blinding. You sighed contently as he lay next to you, eyes watching you closely.

“I’m sorry I was so emotional,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you forever…before I’d even had the chance to tell you what kind of feelings I was harboring.”

“What kind of feelings?” you whispered back, turning over to face him.

“That I’m completely in love with you and have been for a long time.” Your heart swelled at the confession. Quiet giggles spilled from your mouths at the realization of what he was saying.

“I’m in love with you too, Theo,” you laughed. “That’s why I was so jealous.”

“Because I’m so sexy?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and placed a playful smack on his arm.

The moments that followed were filled with quiet laughs and sweet kisses. And before either of you had noticed, you’d both drifted off against each other. Afternoon classes were a lost cause, as was the hope of meeting back up with Mattheo and Enzo for dinner, but neither of you minded.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

part two

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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bodyans0ul · 2 months

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Kind of thinking about what it would be like to have a free-use rape toy wife. I come home from work, and you're having a dinner party with your friends. I open the door and don't even say a word to you or your friends. You ask me how my day was, and I ignore you. Just rushing over to you while you're preparing tea, yanking at your skirt, pulling your panties to the side, and fucking thrusting into you, grunting as I go in hard and raw, you trying to be all civil and polite, muffling some words about your friends being over, like I give a fuck, trying hard not to moan, you struggle and holding onto the table, making eye contact with some of your friends, mouthing out the words I am sorry, As my cock presses into your womb, my fingers being jammed into your mouth, forcing you to choke and gag, your friends sitting around the dinner table trying to awkwardly make small talk with you, you trying your hardest to respond, all while I pound into your tight little cunt, I pull your head back the last few thrusts, pumping cum so deep into your womb, grunting hard as I do so, and pushing you back over the bench after I'm done. It's all over in 5 minutes, fucked and pumped, and left bent over the table, my cum leaking out of you. It takes you a moment to compose yourself, finish the tea service for your friends, and shyly apologise to them, knowing it was completely out of your control.

I head straight to the shower, clean myself up, come back out the hallway your laughing and giggling sitting around the lounge with the girls my cum still stained on your panties, I have a lot of research work do tonight and I am going to take it all out on you, moving slowly towards you grabbing one your friends by the ankle and throwing her off the couch, my hands around your throat, grabbing you off the seat slamming you into the wall, on your knees, I pull out my cock, I am still rock hard and jam it down your throat, you gag and struggle, jaw locking as I skull fuck the shit out of you, bagging your head against the wall, you're friends locking eyes with you still in shock at what they are seeing, no one says a word.

Just awkward silence as I pump down your throat, no easing, no mercy, just hard thrust until you feel my warm, hot load shooting down your throat. I throw a rag at you after. I don't need to say a word to you, cum dribbling down your cheek all this, and you still need to clean up. I head to my study and get to work, coming back in an hour and half or so, two friends are left some are doing the dishes and helping you clean up you're on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor, slowly crawling all over the place, I just move towards you quickly, lifting up your skirt, some of my dried cum from early still spilled over your thighs, you don't stop scrubbing even when you feel the first thrust, I'm never gentle, just a fucking hole to me, just an object I need to cum, my own personal free use fleshlight, we both know it, Ive never asked, I just take you when I want, you know the floor still needs to be cleaned you don't stop trying to crawl away with my cock still deep in your belly hard thrusts, while I lick your back like an animal, ranting off to one of your friends about a girl you don't like, bullshit girl talk I guess, I don't care I pay no attention as I fucking rape you, it never takes me long I cum and go, leaving you to your duty as my fuck toy slave, getting up zipping my pants back up, watching the cum pool from your cunt, It's been a long day, and I'm tired of heading to bed. You crawl a little further before fixing your skirt; my cum stains are all over you, broken deep down inside.

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halfvalid · 8 months

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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss

intertwined ribbons

ABOUT

alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated

rating: general audiences/teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.

tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor

author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol

(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)

“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.

“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”

“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”

“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”

You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”

“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”

“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”

You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.

You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.

Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.

“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”

Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”

You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.

“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”

“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”

Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.

“I am not—”

“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”

You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.

You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—

“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”

“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”

“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”

You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.

“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.

“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”

You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”

“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.

The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.

“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”

You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.

“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”

You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”

Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”

“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”

Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”

You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”

“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”

Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”

“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.

You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.

A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.

“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”

Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.

“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”

“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”

“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?

You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.

Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”

You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.

“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”

You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.

“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.

You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”

The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”

“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”

Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.

“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.

“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.”

“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.

You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”

“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.

“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.

“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.

“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.

“Okay, so neither of us do.”

Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”

You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”

“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”

It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”

“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”

“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.

“Well?” Zoro prompted.

“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”

“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”

“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t.”

You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”

Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”

“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”

“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"

“Positive. It’s all me.”

“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”

“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.

You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.

You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”

There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”

“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”

There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”

Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”

“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.

“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.

“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”

“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”

You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.

“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”

Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”

You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”

“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”

“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.

Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.

“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.

Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”

“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”

You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”

“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.”

You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.

You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.

He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.

You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.

Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.

He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.

So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.

The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.

Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.

“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”

“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”

“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”

“First?” you prompted.

Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.

A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.

The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.

A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”

“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.

“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”

“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”

“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”

“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”

You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #kiki writes!

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bianquitasunderworld · 8 months

Note

dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

#dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #kick ass x reader #kick ass fanfic #dave lizewski #dave lizewski smut #aaron taylor johnson smut #atj x reader #kick ass 2 #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski fic #dave lizewski fanfic

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satorena · 5 months

Text

❝ 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘’𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ! ❞

꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱ : geto suguru x fem!reader

꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱ : explicit content, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, fwb!reader, phone sex, fingering, squirting, reader has a vagina and tattoos on her fingers.

serena’s note. based off the line “i touch myself just thinking about you” 🌬️

11:45pm: *2 photo attachments*

11:45pm: missin’ my pretty girl

it was almost painfully embarrassing how easily aroused two simple pictures could get you. it didn’t take much for your cotton panties beneath your oversized tee to get damp with slick, squeezing your thighs together to stimulate some sort of friction.

you stared for god knows how long at your phone screen, the bright light illuminating a mean and girthy dick you’re all too well accustomed to. its brown tip raging red and leaking pre come you’d familiarize yourself with. the bulging veins on the underside of his shaft peeked through sensitive skin, mimicking the veins on the owner’s hands and wrists.

simple details on the man, such as rings and bracelets and beauty marks and an oozing tip, had you licking the tip of your fingers before slipping them past your panties, meeting your bare pussy, flinching at the contact and chilly breeze of your bedroom.

“fuck,” you sighed, head thrown back into the pillow. you performed circles at your clit, teasing yourself with your light touches.

this was exactly how suguru had his way with you. he took his time—though he preferred using his tongue but that wasn’t exactly an option as of right now— by thumbing at your clit and watching you unravel and crumble at his touch.

you mimicked your thoughts, the attention at your bundle of nerves sending blissful shockwaves throughout your limbs. your thighs squeezed together from the pleasure, and you recalled that suguru would have forced them open and made you take it like the good girl you are.

your hole clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled with what couldn’t be provided at the moment. soft whines came out your throat while you ground your hips up, subconsciously chasing your own hand in need of more pressure.

so lost in yourself, your screen dimmed, noting it would soon shut off, before pinging once more at a newer notification.

11:49pm: left on read huh…

11:50pm: don’t tell me you’ve started without me mama?

you don’t even bother trying to reply, knowing he would ring up your line in a few. good, you could use his voice in your ears while getting off, after all— suguru had officially ruined you for anybody else.

as expected, your phone buzzed in your hand and you swiped the call eagerly, pressing it on speaker before resting it on your chest.

“suguuu,” you greet him, bottom lip stuck in between your teeth. your other hand goes to slip under your tee, and grasp at your bare chest, groping firmly at the tender mound.

“you kept me waiting,” he chuckles, though you notice it’s breathy, as if forcing it out. you hear shuffling, and he heaves out a sigh, “missed you, pretty.”

“mhmm, missed you more,” you intensify the pace on your clit, fuzzy sock-cladded toes curling from the building pleasure. “need you here, sugu,”

you mewl his name, the nickname rolling off your pink tongue and into your phone speaker. the neediness behind your tone had him groaning, cursing out a ‘fuck’ and suddenly the sound of fapping grew consistent.

“oh yeah?” he tries, tries, to come off cocky but he’s just as needy as you are. perhaps even more, as the hold on his cock tightens. “tell me more baby. what else?”

you figure it’s finally time to focus your attention on your folds, which had soaked up your cunt and sheets beneath you the minute he called. your index and middle finger graze at your lips, and you whine at the sensitivity.

“want you here,” you moan, rubbing figure eights at your your folds. you stimulate your cunt in a familiar pattern, the same way suguru always worked on you. “w-want your fingers deep in my pussy, fuckin’ me open and—hah, making a mess outta me—need it suguru!”

“shit baby,” he chuckles, though muffled, as you fail to notice he’s got the hem of his wife beater tucked in between his teeth. “want me to tell you what i’d do to you if we were together?”

“yes!” you beg, unashamed as your back arches off the surface of your bed. your limbs felt liquified and there was something about his voice that had your pussy glistening terribly.

“mm, well,” he begins, his thumb grazing over his slit as he pictured you doing a million times. “i’d start off with kisses at your thighs. y’love it whenever i bite, dont’cha? love it when i mark you as mine, hm?”

you nod your head, despite the fact he can’t see. “always sugu, feels so good!”

“and when i get sick of teasing myself, i’d push your panties to the side and kiss your pretty clit,” geto sighs, almost in a trance by his own words. they roll of his tongue so naturally, stomach clenching as he imagines the things he’d do to you if he was able to.

“kiss your pretty clit before playing with it. i know it drives you—fuck—crazy. yeah, it drives you crazy and you love to act like you hate being teased, but baby, your pussy tells me otherwise,”

he spoke so sinfully in your ears, soft voice being a major contrast to the intense words that left his mouth. it churned deep in your guts, sending butterflies with a mix of straight arousal.

“i do— fuckin’ love it—” you cut yourself off, the hand on your breast tweaking with the stiff bud, twisting and pinching at it.

“you fingering yourself yet?” he asks you, and you shake your head, humming a soft ‘uhn uhn’, he continues, upping the pace of his own jerking, “good girl—get your tatted fingers in f’me, wanna hear your pretty pussy speak to me.”

“o-okay” you comply to his order, easing the void of emptiness by sliding your middle and ring finger inside your clenching pussy.

you moan loudly at the intrusion, the stretch nothing close to suguru’s fingers, but still enough to satisfy you for the time being. you feel your soft walls clench around your digits, begging for more. at the wet squelch of your cunt, you hear geto chuckle through the phone, “there we go, my favorite language.”

“wish you were here sugu—hnng, need you here and—and takin’ care of me!” you voice out your thoughts, your fingers gradually picking up their pace and plowing in your insides.

“sugu’s being mean, isn’t he? ‘m sorry baby, for not doin’ my—shit—job,” geto apologizes, the sound of his lubricated cock being jerked resonating in the depths of your ear drums.

“match my rhythm, mama,” he instructs you to follow, and despite you being so deep in your own thoughts and moans, you focus on the faint sound of his fist chafing his dick.

and so, your fingers plunge in and out your wet core, pussy gushing slickness, just to please geto.

“that’s it—my good girl, mmh, always doin’ so perfect.”

his praises did wonders to your body, as you felt an oncoming orgasm approach. your gut heated and tightened into a familiar coil, and your thighs threatened to close in on your hands.

“sugu, baby, ‘m getting close!” you warn him, now roughly grabbing at your other boob that lacked attention.

“me too, pretty girl—me too,” he grunts, the pace of his jerking increasing greatly. he works up and down his length with two hands and purpose, breathing heavily and watching his abdomen contracting tightly.

“play with your clit,” suguru breathes out, a whine escaping his throat momentarily. you moan at the unexpected sound, and he continues, “please baby—play with your clit f’me”

he begged and fuck, you’d never felt yourself be so attracted to his voice the way you did right now.

“feels’good” you slur, drool pooling at the corner of your parted lips. you multitasked with toying at your puffy clit with scissoring your cave, the drag of your fingers and stimulation of your bundle of nerves opening the dam.

“cummin’ sugu—hnng, fuck, oh fuck!” you cry out, far too loud as you release on your hand. your juices spill and you drip down to the crack of your ass, down to the sheets, soaking up your panties and mattress.

you continue to fuck yourself as best as you could despite your body jerking at the sensitivity, thighs quaking and back arched off the bed.

“r-right behind ya princess—oh fuck y/n” you hear his voice break as he shoots his load onto himself, his pretty moans all in your ears. he sounded melodic, your name belonging on his tongue as it sends tingles all over your nerves.

after a few minutes, your high comes down, and you slowly pull your fingers out of your pussy, wincing at the contact. geto’s gone quiet, safe for the panting on the other side of the phone, most likely attempting to ground himself from his own orgasm.

you clench your thighs and jolt at the sensitivity. your skin felt clammy and sticky with your arousal, and your bedroom now smelled of your sex. you miss suguru’s scent, and how much differently your sheets would’ve smelt with him in it.

“taste yourself for me,” suguru speaks up, breathless.

you do as he says, bringing your fingers up and wrapping your plump lips around your digits. you moan softly, before giggling cutely when you hear the man groaning in desperation.

“quit makin’ me jealous,” he sighs, the words almost coming out like a whine. “nothin’ gets sweeter than your pussy, swear on everything.”

you can only think of a simple solution for his complaints. you shrug, popping your lips off your soaked hand, “pull up on me then.”

the line goes quiet for a bit, and you can practically hear the arrogant smirk on his face, which only makes your lips tug into a similar smile.

“your fine ass better be ready for me in ten.”

mind you this is a canon moment between me & him 🫦

#stargirl★rena.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk geto #x reader

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luvring · 9 months

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FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS

gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna

KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.

HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.

SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”

SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

#haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #hinata x reader #sakusa x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu fluff #x reader

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lvlyghost · 10 months

Text

The Things I Never Said: Part 2

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨

A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵

Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3

Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.

"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"

"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.

"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.

"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.

"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."

Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.

"This is on me... my bloody fault"

"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."

"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.

"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"

"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...

Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.

This is Ghost about to fight.

For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.

Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.

"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm not on duty, Captain."

"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."

You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."

Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"

"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."

Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.

"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.

When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.

"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.

"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."

He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.

"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.

"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."

You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.

"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."

"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.

"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.

"No." Simon growls at the same time.

"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"

"Absolutely."

A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.

A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.

"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.

Everyone goes silent.

"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.

He's fucked.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod mw22 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost imagine #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #fanfic

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soobnny · 1 year

Text

kiss me — lee minho.

trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy

synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day

word count. 1.4k words

warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more

note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it

You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.

He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.

Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.

With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.

Like right now.

It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.

Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”

His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.

“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”

It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.

“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.

The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.

You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.

And then it all clicks.

You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.

And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.

Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.

He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.

But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.

“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.

There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.

“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.

He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.

The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.

He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.

“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.

His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.

“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.

He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.

A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.

“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.

“I love you too.”

“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.

“I do. A lot.”

“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”

And you do.

Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.

He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.

And only ever for you.

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sargeant-bxrnes · 5 months

Text

the bet

—✮ summary: gojo and you make a bet. gojo assures he’ll be able to resist a whole month without sex, and you bet on the fact that he won’t be able to resist. may no nut november begin.

pairings: gojo x f!reader [established relationship]

contents & warnings: slight exhibitionism (consented shower peeking), teasing, explicit descriptions of female anatomy. | SMUT unprotected sex (don’t do this!), dirty talk, praise, sofa sex.

wc: 4.2k

my masterlist! | requests are OPEN!

"Who do you take me for?" Gojo questioned with a half dramatic, half genuine gasp, as his pale hand met his chest, feigning hurt.

"Oh, come on!" You can't help but giggle at his dramatics. "the only reason why you don't try to keep up with NNN is because your horny ass would NOT survive."

"I-" He shut his mouth, to open again a few seconds later. "for your information, I think No Nut November is stupid. Why would I restrain myself for a month just for funsies? That's why I don't do it. If I didn't find the idea stupid, I would definitely survive. Mhm."

"...Right." You nod your head softly, trying to hide an amused smile and narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend. "Absolutely, you can resist a whole month without an orgasm, completely feasible."

"You don't believe me, do you, baby?"

"Absolutely not."

"Alright, alright," he said, repositioning himself on the bed, leaning on his elbow as he draped his body across the bed, showing how 'relaxed' he was. "let's make a bet, then."

"A bet with the infamous Gojo?" You muse, also leaning down on the bed. "do tell, handsome."

"I bet that I can survive No Nut November," he said firmly, a confident smirk on his lips. "and by the looks of it, your bet will be on me, absolutely failing this dumbassery."

"Oh, sounds about right," you nod. "deal. What's in it for the winner?"

"That'll be decided when the bet's over," He says confidently. "at the end of November, when I win, of course."

"You're so confident about this, it's so cute.".

"Aw, and you're so confident you'll make me lose, it's adorable." He cooed back.

And with that, it was game on.

The first few days, you acted like normal, making sure to keep behaving like every other day. Gojo was doing just fine; sure, some kisses prolonged more than usual, but he was so determined to win that he forced himself to pull back before it turned into a make-out session.

By the time November 10 came around, Gojo had only been close to losing once, but other than that, he was showing impressive restraint—by avoiding long cuddle sessions or kissing for long periods of time—which could be counted as cheating since those things you used to do normally.

So, you decided to twist the rules a little bit too.

Knowing Gojo's schedule like the back of your hand, you waited the entire day to get in the shower, purposefully choosing to get under the warm stream around 10 minutes before he got home—you left the bathroom door ajar, also on purpose. You knew Satoru is nosy by nature, and he wouldn't resist taking a peek.

Like a damn Pavlovian effect, as soon as Gojo got home and heard the shower, he instinctively made his way to the bedroom, noticing the ajar bathroom door. He knew he shouldn't, not because you'd be uncomfortable—you two had been together long enough for nudity to not be an issue—but because he knew that as soon as he saw you naked, his hormones would act up.

But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he refused to delve into such a beautiful sight?

He walked closer to the ajar door and took a small peek at first. The first thing he saw was steam from the shower's temperature, but that wasn't much of an impediment for him to concentrate on what he wanted. Gojo's eyes quickly found your figure amidst all the steam. There you were, standing behind the glass door of the shower, in all your beautiful glory.

The water was cascading over you in a waterfall, covering your entire figure. You had your back to him, so he couldn't see your face, but he knew you were enjoying the bath, judging by your relaxed shoulders.

Satoru lost all decency and let his eyes travel down your body, your hair, your shoulders, and your beautiful back, which he loved to caress with his hands. His eyes went lower and lower, and he felt his body getting hot under the collar.

His eyes focused on your glistening ass... He swore he could see water droplets bouncing off that beautiful thing. It looked so damn delicious, it made him want to-

He forced his eyes to look somewhere else. Where? Your hair. He smiled as he saw how meticulous you were when washing it—so cute and adorable. And for a second, he regained control. However, you turned around a few inches to the right, and now your breasts were visible to him. His jaw dropped as he saw the water stream softly hitting your breasts, water droplets sliding down the valley he adored to kiss, oh... the way they followed a path to your little hardened nipples and—

His cock twitched.

Gojo closed his eyes and bit his tongue to contain a grunt. If he looked at you for one more second, he would strip and join you in the shower, and in no time, he would have you with your legs spread, bent over with your hands splayed against the wall as he drilled into your cunt.

Gojo cleared his throat and made his way out of the room, discreetly tugging the crotch of his pants so they wouldn't be so snug against his hard cock. He made his way to the kitchen and set about preparing some food to share with you, who’s showering with warm water touching your soft, naked body—fuck. Fuck. Gojo was losing it already.

While you hadn't seen his struggles, you knew him far too well to know his composure had started to crumble. You knew you were one step closer to winning this bet. Because, despite how proudly he claimed to be able to, Gojo Satoru will not be able to survive a whole month without nutting.

You let the teasing rest for a few days, making him believe you'd stopped. It was a calculated gesture. Sure, the shower peek could've been an innocent accident; maybe you hadn't meant to leave the door open, or maybe you didn't think he'd get home from work before you got out of the shower. Right.

ii.

5 days later, you played another one of your little teasing schemes.

Gojo was already lying down on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, watching short clips of kikufuku mocha recipes, his absolute favourite dish. (Right after your pussy.)

You opened the bathroom door after doing your routine of handling your hair and applying cream all over your body and face. You walked out, turned off the bathroom lights, and made your way to the bed.

Gojo's eyes instinctively rose up to see you walk up to the bed, and then he turned back to his phone, but—hold up. Gojo did a double take, eyes travelling all over your frame, quickly noticing you seemed to be wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his, which was sliding down your bare shoulder, the hem of it covering half of your thigh.

He gulped down to regain control of himself and opened the covers for you to slide right beside him, as always. You got under the warm covers and scooted close to him, your warm body fitting perfectly next to his tall one. Gojo dropped the covers and let his arm wrap around your body, his hand falling on your back. He softly caressed it both as an affectionate gesture and as a way to try and find your sleeping bra wings or the clasp, but all he felt under the palm of his hand was the fabric of the t-shirt and your soft skin. No bra.

He could work with that, absolutely. Yeah.

As every night, you cuddled up to him, your head on his chest and your arm draped over his torso as your fingertips softly caressed his sides, gliding up and down soothingly. Your leg, as always, also draped over him, falling comfortably between his legs. Gojo's arm held you tight and safely nestled against him, as he did all he could to avoid letting his hand wander down.

You got comfortable, making an inhuman effort to not smirk a little. It was hard to tell if he'd noticed or not, but the only piece of clothing you were currently wearing was his old shirt, nothing else—no panties, no bra.

At first, he didn't notice. But oh.

Not only could he feel your soft breasts against his chest through the thin fabric of the shirt, your hard nipples pressed against him. No, no. He also became hyper-aware of how warm your body was and the way it curved so beautifully and naturally. His hand moved in small circles down the small of your back, where, if he splayed his hand, he would be able to feel the waistband of your... Nope. There's no waistband.

You're naked, wearing nothing but his old t-shirt, the one he gave you after you two fucked for the first time in your newly shared apartment. That day, you two had been moving furniture and boxes around, and it ended up with him fucking you on the floor like two dogs in heat. He remembers giving it to you so you could cover up your body when the neighbors knocked on the door to welcome you both, and it has been your shirt ever since.

And knowing you're wearing it and nothing under it, just like that day... his cock twitched inside his pijama pants. He felt it, and so did you.

You couldn't help but smirk. Would this be the moment when he gave in?

"I uh-fuck..." Gojo rambled as his grip on your body tightened. "I'll turn off the lights now; I'm—yeah, it's late; it's time to sleep, baby."

"Hm yeah?" You cooed playfully as his free arm stretched to turn off the bedside lamp.

"Yeah," he assured, sucking in a breath as you cuddled up even closer to him. "g-good night, gorgeous."

"Aw, where's my good-night kiss?" You playfully teased him, pouting in the darkness.

Gojo let out the smallest little whimper before his hand blindly found your jaw, cupping it as he tilted your head up. His lips found yours in a short kiss, no short of desperation, before he pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow, clearing his throat to act casual, like nothing had happened, as if you couldn't feel the bulge in his PJ pants.

"You know, baby, you could just... give in and lose the bet." You offered softly, stopping the teasing to be genuine for a couple of seconds before dropping an absolutely filthy comment. "I'd definitely suck your cock then, y'know? For your effort. I'd even do a sloppy, as you like it."

"Fuck-" He hissed as his cock twitched again. "Shh, shut your pretty mouth, shush. Stop. G'night, sleep time. Love you."

Knowing when to stop, you stopped for the night, kissing his cheek softly before mumbling good night, and I love you back, and closing your eyes.

iii.

The very next day, you continued your teasing. The previous night he had almost lost his composure, and you weren't about to stop, not now.

After having a nice meal during his break, Gojo and you had decided to get some ice cream, since the weather was quite hot that day.

Unbelievably so, you had nothing but pure intentions at first.

You both sat at one of the tables at the back of the establishment, since Gojo preferred to eat at peace. While you were eating ice cream, Gojo was talking to you about one of the missions he had coming up, and you were listening to him attentively, letting him talk your ear off, to be honest, you loved the sound of his voice, so listening to him wasn't a bother.

It wasn't until he stopped mid-sentence while you licked your ice cream cone that you came up with your idea. Unbeknownst to him, Satoru had handed himself on a silver plate to you when he did that.

You nodded your head as he kept talking, genuinely listening to him talk while uttering the occasional 'mhm' and 'yeah?' to keep him talking. But on the other hand? You were teasing him. You licked your ice cream 'innocently' letting the cold treat coat your tongue before flicking it, and whenever a drop of ice cream slid down to the cone, you would lick it slowly, keeping eye contact with Gojo.

It didn't take more than 3 minutes for Satoru to start feeling his blood flowing south, you looked so innocent, like a good girlfriend, listening to him — But Gojo knew perfectly well what you were doing, the way you savored the ice cream, the way you licked the cone specifically... all Gojo could think about was how it felt when you did that on his cock, licking the drops of precum that slid down his length.

"So I was thinking of asking..." He trailed off as he saw you wrap your lips around the tip of the ice cream, the way the creamy goodness coated your lips, how your cheeks hollowed ever so subtly to let the ice cream melt in the warmth of your mouth.

"Yeah?" You asked innocently, removing your mouth from the ice cream and licking your lips clean.

"Of asking Nanami, you know? He's..." Gojo's eyes followed the drops of ice cream that now melted on your fingers, as it had began to drip down after you left it unattended. "he may not be the most cheerful but he-"

You licked the ice cream off your fingers as Gojo kept talking, keeping eye contact with him as you genuinely listened to him, but once again, he stopped mid-sentence, his throat going dry and his pants definitely getting tighter.

"What?" You dared ask, knowing exactly what was going on.

"Oh, you-" he took a sharp inhale, he knew what you were doing, and as much as his cock was screaming at him to grow up and accept the defeat so he could sink in your tight pussy, Gojo wouldn't budge. "never mind, as I was saying, Nanami is the man for the job."

"Mhm, I'm sure he is." You mused, going back to eating your ice cream.

However, before you could continue licking it, Gojo snatched the cone from you and stuffed the remaining ice cream into his mouth, he hissed, eyes immediately narrowing and his features scrunching up from the icy sensation, and with a grimace he swallowed the ice cream in one gulp.

"No more ice cream for you, you're a danger to my cock."

iv.

After that direct tease, you decided to act normal for several days, perhaps your boyfriend did have the will to fulfill No Nut November after all.

After a long day, you both found yourselves on the couch in your living room, watching a movie on TV. As it had become customary throughout your relationship with Satoru, you ended up cuddling with him.

You found yourself comfortably nestled on Gojo's lap. Your soft body pressed against his hard muscles, sending a pleasant tingle through your body. To be fair, you didn't intend to tease him or tempt him this time around; you just wanted some quality couch-time with your boyfriend.

However, as the movie progressed and your bodies grew more intimate due to their close proximity, something unexpected happened - a familiar stirring within Gojo began to rise up. It started small at first but quickly became impossible to ignore any longer.

"Fuck," muttered Gojo under his breath, trying desperately not to give into his urges. But it was clear that he wasn't going to make it without giving in soon enough.

"You okay?" You asked him softly, looking up at him from your comfortable position.

This time, no comment came from him, only actions. Gojo leant down to kiss you, and as soon as you reciprocated the kiss with the same intensity, he knew you wanted him as badly as he wanted you— you weren't insisting on him losing NNN just to gloat, no, no, you were needy, too, and it showed in the way you nearly ripped his shirt off his body.

Not wanting to pull his lips away from yours, Gojo's hands moved all over your body they stopped at your breast swiftly, his hands groping the soft globes in the least gentlemanly way, before moving his hands lower and lower.

Without warning or hesitation, Gojo swiftly hooked his fingers on the waistband of your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down your legs. You helped by raising your hips off his lap– soon your clothes were discarded somewhere out of sight. Satoru finally pulled back from your lips and grabbed a hold of his sweatpants, pulling the waistband low enough for his throbbing cock to be freed, it immediately sprang out, slapping against his pale abs, his tip was reddened by arousal, a few drops of precum were already accumulating at the tip.

And just as you were about to lean down to take his cock down your throat and give him the sloppy blowjob you promised, he took a hold of your hips and pulled you closer to him, nudging your leg up so you would straddle him. You quickly understood what he wanted and straddled him, hovering right over his cock– you were already so wet a few drops of your arousal dripped down to his tip, and he swore he could've busted right there.

He looked at you to confirm everything was okay, and as soon as you nodded, he slowly pulled you down on his cock, his tip nudging its way inside, slowly being sucked in by your cunt.

"F-fuck, fuck, you're so tight." He nearly hissed, feeling the way your tight entrance slowly stretched to allow his cock in– it didn't matter how many times you two fucked, you were as tight as ever. "Oh my– fuck."

As soon as he felt your soft wetness envelop his cockhead, Gojo thrusted his hips forward into your waiting pussy. Your tight walls gripped him like velvet vice as he plunged deeper, and deeper. Gojo couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips as he felt you clamping down around his dick, as if your cunt wanted to keep it forever inside.

You whimpered in delight, your hand finding the back of his head, fingers tangling in his white hair as you bit your lip. "You feel so damn good baby, so big..."

Once he was fully sheathed, his lips returned to yours to kiss you desperately as he gave you time to adjust to his length, his thumb found your clit blindly, and he began to stroke it in small circles, making your soft walls tighten around his cock, enveloping his cock in your warmth.

Eventually, you began to ride him, your hand finding his chest as you began to move back and forth, lifting and lowering your hips with each movement, the sound of your thighs making contact with his, plus the squelching sound each time your greedy cunt sucked him in was definitely erotic— not to mention the sounds escaping from Satoru's mouth, you forced yourself to swallow your own moans to hear his, the way he moaned, grunted and even whimpered.

"Jus' like that baby, so, so good," he praised, his eyes threatening to roll back at the feeling of your warm walls around his shaft. "there we go, you're doing so good f'me, fuck– god damn, baby. Missed this pretty little thing so much."

Gojo's hands were holding your hips so tightly that they would probably leave marks, but you didn't care, the way he was moving your body with such ease, it was incredibly attractive, he was fucking you roughly, but needy, it was obvious he needed this, and by the way he was also lifting his hips to push his cock even deeper inside you, it was obvious.

"T-Toru," you moaned after a particular thrust of his, one of his cock veins had grazed against your g-spot so perfectly it felt like heaven– you tilted your hips and tried to replay the feeling as you bounced on his lap.

His cock was hitting in all the right places, and by that point you were chasing your orgasm, however, your plans were quickly interrupted when, with a grunt, Gojo wrapped his arms around you and pushed you down on the sofa.

He pulled his cock out a little to accommodate your leg, throwing it over his shoulder and leaning his body forward, exposing your pussy to him, his eyes watched hungrily as he thrust inside you again, your juices pooling in a translucent circle at the base of his cock. You couldn't help the moan of surprise and utter pleasure that left your lips as Gojo began to thrust, his hips moving with precision, rising a little to get a better angle, his cock grinding its way inside your tight cunt, its tip possibly touching your cervix.

"There we go, hm? So fuckin' good, your pussy is so fucking good f'me," he rambles, clearly too pussydrunk to stop the endless rambling. "oh god, you missed having your tight little cunt filled with my cock, didn't you? Hm, I can feel it baby, you're squeezin' me so tight."

With one hand braced against the couch armrest for leverage, Gojo began powering up into your body at a pace that left no room for hesitation or mercy. It wasn't long before sweat dripped down from his brow.

One hand kept holding your hips to keep you in place so your body wouldn't slide up with each thrust, the sound of his skin against yours was obscene, and you would be embarrassed by the wet sound of your pussy, but that seemed to please Gojo judging by the way he alternated his gaze between your face and your cunt.

Your back arched off the couch as he began to hit all the right spots, and upon seeing that, Gojo couldn't help himself, he leant down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his warm tongue swirling around the hardened bud before his lips sucked it gently— you squirmed in utter pleasure at the dual pleasure, but you nearly lost your composure when his hand left your hip and slid between your legs, finding your little clit and began circling it quickly.

"F-fuck, 'Toru, baby w- I– hmm," you couldn't even speak clearly, your eyes rolling back as he kept sucking your nipples, rubbing your clit and plunging deep inside your pussy, god bless his multitasking abilities.

At a sudden wave of pleasure, your legs threatened to close, but Gojo would not allow that. His hand left the couch armrest and came to hold the leg over his shoulder in place, he used the leverage and knelt down on the sofa, lifting your hips up slightly to keep fucking deep into you, his thumb still assaulting your clit relentlessly.

"Gojo I'm gonna– please, j-just like that." You managed to say clearly, as you felt his cock twitching intensely inside you, you could notice the telltale signs, his twitching cock, the way his eyes were glazing over and his thrusts got relentless– he was close.

"I know, I know," he coos in a rasp, his breath heavy as he keeps going. "that's it, that's it, cum for me pretty girl, yeah? Cum for me, gorgeous. You've been so good for me, let go baby."

As soon as that praise fell from his lips, combined with all the pleasure and stimulation he was giving you, you were a goner. Your cunt squeezed tight around his cock, milking it for all it was worth as a moan of his name left your lips, your whole body tensed and clenched in response to the overwhelming orgasm.

Now, Gojo is a simple man. The moment your pussy squeezed him so deliciously tight, he lost control of himself, he immediately followed your orgasm, his cock spurting ropes of white warmness that coated your insides.

His body felt nearly limp on top of yours, his cock still nestled inside your warm walls, his sweaty forehead meeting the clammy skin of your shoulder as he took deep breaths, pressing a kiss against your soft skin, he relaxed as he felt your fingers threading his messy hair.

"NNN was stupid anyway," he mumbled against your skin, making you giggle as you remembered that he'd lost the bet. "your pussy's too good for me to give up, even for a month."

You chuckled soflty, kissing his sweaty forehead. "I can't decide if I should feel flattered or offended."

"It was definitely a compliment," he assured playfully, nipping on your shoulder as he rose his body up, softly patting your thigh as he pulled out of you, a mix of his cum and yours dribbling out of your tight hole. "now, get on all fours f'me, princess, I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh?" You teased him, completely up for another round.

"Gonna make you cum as many times as you teased me this month," He promised as he took a hold of your hips and flipped you over, your body acting by muscle memory as you got on your hands and knees, face pressed against the sweaty material of the couch. “and believe me, I kept count.”

And just like that, you felt his cock slide back home.

It was going to be a long night.

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