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garfunklefield · 1 month

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hiiiii can i request a pregnant reader x toji where he learns sex induces labor? and the reader is like GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME and he wants to "relieve" her pain??

Fucking for two

18+ viewer discretion advised

fem!reader/Toji Zenin Warnings: pregnancy sex, pregnancy fetish/kink, breeding kink, rough sex, Toji is hung that’s canon, they’re married and in their 30s, attempted mating press but she’s like 9 months pregnant, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fingering, breast milk kink, breast milk play, Toji's gonna suck some nipnips, dacryphilia, I'm gonna be honest this is not realistic, squirting Word count: 2820 DESC: Toji wants to relieve your pain and get off at the same time

Well anon this was an interesting experience! And some of it is not accurate like the breast milk part but we ball.

ALL EYES ON RAFAH

“Hey bitch,” Toji strolled into your shared room with a more playful expression than usual. He gave your annoyed glare a wiggle with his eyebrows, “I know how to get that baby outta you.”

You were a week late. Almost two at that point. And you had been dying to get this god-forsaken baby out of you for days. You’ve tried spicy food, yoga, or sour food. Anything you heard that might’ve made your pregnancy end. But nothing worked! So you were stuck with this large lump inside of you sucking the life force from your mind. You wanted so desperately to be free from the shackles of pregnancy so you could do certain things like bathe properly or lay on your side. So when your amazing husband suggested a way to get this baby out of you… you wanted to hear him out.

“Hm?” You looked up from your laptop, closing it as you stared at him. God, he was such eye candy. Maybe that was the reason you stayed all through his interesting quirks. (Like gambling or drinking himself half-blind) He was hot. You couldn’t deny it. The way his muscles poked out through his tight shirt always made you clench your legs together, even if you couldn’t exactly do that right now.

He looked over at you and smirked before answering, “We fuck.”

You had to do a double-take. You … what? You two had been intimate during your pregnancy, giving him blowjobs and him eating you out. But you hadn’t engaged in sexual intercourse like that. You didn’t think Toji found you attractive enough to pound you like he used to. Mainly since he had been a lot more careful around you ever since you hit the third trimester; Maybe it was your hormones, but you didn’t think he could find your bloated body attractive currently.

“Toji I’m not having sex with you,” you shook your head, looking down at your closed laptop filled with anime stickers from various shows you liked.

“I don’t wanna see you all miserable. It’s annoying,” he shrugged as you made a sour face. You knew he meant well, but Toji always had a way with words. A bad way with words.“Besides. I kinda wanna fuck a pregnant bitch.”

You gave him a warning glare and he cleared his throat, “Pregnant woman.”

“I… you don’t need to say all that. I know I’m not very hot right now and taking care of me is a pain in the ass. But you don’t need to force yourself to sleep with me just to get it over with…” You mumbled, looking up at him. His face contorted from a smirk to a weird look. He stared at you as if you were crazy. Like you just said the wildest thing imaginable without any warning.

You thought … you weren’t attractive like that? You thought you weren’t attractive to him? And you thought you were making him force himself to sleep with you? Oh, you really were insane. Toji was deeply and madly in love with you, even if he didn’t exactly show it. You’ve always been hot to him, no matter what. You’ve been together for five years, of course, you’ve changed. You didn’t look like the same girl he first met at that bar and he didn’t care. He loved you no matter how big or small you were. If you were carrying his child or not. He loved you. If fucking you while pregnant was going to get rid of your agony, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

And he didn’t want to admit the other reason why he’d been dying to fuck you pregnant. He had a certain kink he’d never been able to try since you were his first wife. Once you got too big to lay on your side or even get up without help, Toji thought you wanted him to be more gentle. So he abstained from slapping your ass or grabbing you while you were fast asleep beside him. But he wanted to.

He wanted to fuck you raw while you were pregnant with his seed. And he wanted to induce labor and have your water break all over his meaty cock. You didn’t want to see his PornHub browsing history, because, for the past nine months, it was all pregnancy porn. He couldn’t help it. Just the thought of you filled with his baby being fucked by him got him off in ways he didn’t know.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Toji replied after a moment of pure silence. He got onto the bed and crawled towards you, pushing your laptop to the side, “I wanna fuck a pregnant bitch. And I wanna fuck you. So … let’s fuck.”

You blinked a few times, “Oh you have such a way with words, Zenin,” a small smile bit at your lips and you nodded, “If you aren’t forcing yourself, then sure. Is it like a fetish of yours or something?” One of your arms slung around your husband's neck and he nodded, inhaling in your scent. He didn’t care if you thought you smelt bad, he loved it. He loved how you naturally always smelt a certain way, that he could pick you out in a crowd. He rested his head against your large belly and closed his eyes briefly.

Soon this would be gone and a baby Megumi would be born. You both decided on the more feminine name because screw gender roles! And it was the only thing you two could agree on.

One of his big hands trailed from the top of your stomach down to the hem of your pants, sneaking past the waistband and making its way to your underwear. Your breath hitched at your lips and you felt two fingers dip into your pussy. It was a slow and methodical movement that he did, just swirling around your clit to get you all hot and bothered. His other hand trailed up to fondle your breasts. You let out a small gasp and before you knew it that hand was in your shirt. He pinched and rolled your nipple around between his fingers, just to feel you tense up beneath him.

“Toji… remember I’m gonna…” You bit your lip and exhaled a shaky moan as you felt him continue. He moved his head up from your stomach to find its way inside your shirt as well, taking your other breast and nipple into his mouth. He let his teeth rake around your sensitive pebble and suck it just to see your reaction. You had never been one for nipple play, but after you got pregnant they had become so sensitive… just a bit of fondling never hurt.

You had forgotten what you were about to say when you felt a strange sensation come from the center of your nipples. Oh. That. You found yourself prematurely leaking colostrum or breast milk, whenever your nipples were fondled with. Toji must’ve forgotten since he went mouth-first into your chest. But he didn’t even flinch as you felt them drain into your husband's palm and mouth. Instead, you realized he was going a bit harder, sucking and pinching as if his life depended on it.

His hand was still on your clit in a way that made you dizzy. All of it was just to prepare you for the horse he was going to force into your cunt. Toji was hung, he was massively hung. Even after five years he still needed to let you adjust to his girth by fingering you until you were wet enough to handle it. You always loved how big he was compared to your tight pussy. It made it all the more pleasurable to think about that log touching your cervix.

One finger dipped into your wetness, quickly followed by a second, just to tease you. He pumped them in and out of you very slowly, not fast enough to cause you any release. But instead, slow enough you had a chance to savor the pleasure. He wanted to take his time with this. He wanted to relish in the fact he was fucking you so good your water would break all over him. He wanted to take a video just to show the event happen, letting all your juices flow onto his thick cock.

“T..Toji,” you whimpered, letting your head fall back onto the headboard, “F-fuck… mm- fuck me.. Pleaaa..ssee?” You looked down at him still inside your shirt. You wanted to see his face as he fucked you from the front. You wanted him to manhandle you until you couldn’t stand, which you were beginning to think wouldn’t happen since he was taking his goddamn time with your breasts.

Toji pulled back slowly from your sensitive nipple and pulled your shirt up, and over his head, “Whuh?” He blinked a few times, clearly getting distracted by your lovely chest. He loved the way you squirmed while he sucked and prodded at them. Even if he wasn’t a tits guy, he’d never let them feel neglected.

“Fuck me,” you blurted out, staring at him with an intense gaze. He nodded and smiled, removing his hand from your underwear. Then he delicately took off your pants, making sure not to hurt you or the baby as he pulled them off. Then came your panties, which slid right off. Both articles of clothing were tossed off the bed, followed by his pants and boxers.

“You’re picking those up later,” you frowned, looking down to see his prize. God, he was like if Willam Defoe and Drake had a baby… So, huge. The girth was something you didn’t even think was possible for a man, but there it was. He snaked a large hand around his tip and let the precum smear across his fingers, which he moved down his shaft. You needed that throbbing member inside your cunt this instant or you didn’t know what you’d do!

Toji pressed his swollen tip against your folds and let his cock do the work. You felt yourself stretch as he slowly inserted himself, giving you time between pushes to adjust. He was perfect. The way his penis curved hit your perfect, plush spot in a way that made you instantly bite your lip. But he wasn’t done yet. One arm slowly reached for your leg and pushed it up. Well, it didn’t go entirely up, but up enough to simulate a really shitty mating press. Then came the other one. So the position was more like: Toji on his knees, slightly hunched over, with you on your back. With your two legs held up by his arms, knees slung over his elbows. If that made any sense you’re also as insane as I am.

You let out a moan and threw your head back into the pillow behind you, as he fully inserted himself. A few seconds passed and slowly, Toji pulled back. Then he thrust forward. A noise that you hadn’t heard come out of your husband escaped his lips. It was almost like … a whimper? No-no that’s impossible, Toji would never whimper! Oh … but he did.

“F-fuck… M’ gonna fuck this baby outta you, slut. Mmm sh…shit,” he bit his bottom lip and continued to thrust, turning it almost rhythmical. The sound of your husband's moans and dirty talk mixed with your whimpers filled the air, followed by loud plapping from your bodies. You needed this. You needed him to fuck you stupid and fuck you blind; Until you couldn’t breathe. You needed him so bad it hurt, and he needed you the same. He needed you so bad he couldn’t even put it into words to describe how badly he needed you. You were the one Toji was going to spend the rest of his life with of course he fucking loved you. And god he was already close to cumming.

Just seeing his very pregnant wife underneath him, with your breasts full of milk and bouncing, sent him over the edge. Spurts of thick cum shot out of his tip and coated your insides perfectly in white. But of course he couldn’t stop, he needed you to release your sweet water all over him if it was the last thing he’d ever do. You gasped and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to silence whatever nonsense was gonna come out. But it was too late. You were fucked dumb.

“F-fuck baby… mm- sh-shit.. Mm hah.. F-f… mm … fuck me… c-c mm c-cum in me,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut from the immense pleasure. He was hitting your g-spot and fucking it raw. You could feel yourself becoming close but it still wasn’t enough. You needed to cum so badly and you needed to cum with him. You needed to see him bite his lip to hide the pleasure-filled face he was going to make as he came again. So slowly your eyes fluttered open and you watched him through a hazy veil of lust.

Toji thrust himself into you as if there was no tomorrow. Since truly, he’d never get a pleasure like this again, unless you two planned on a second kid. He took in your chubby form and your fat belly, filled with his forming seed. He took in your face contorted with pleasure, staring at him with the biggest fuck me eyes he’d ever seen. And he came again. So quickly after cumming the first time it hurt. He gasped and leaned forward, groaning sweet nonsense as he fucked you roughly through your high. With the sensation of being filled up again you came, feeling a sweet release from your insides wash over your body. But your water hadn’t broken yet, so Toji wasn’t nearing his thrusting any time soon.

“I’m gonna make you … you pregnant mm again,” he groaned, throwing his head back as he pounded into your swollen cunt. You bit your lip and nodded, feeling tears springing to the corners of your eyes. God, it was too much, and you felt a big release pulsating through your vagina. You felt something coming and you hoped it was gonna come soon. Everything, every inch of your body was on fire. You needed to cum so badly to the point where it stung and throbbed.

“T-Toji…” You gasped, running a hand through your hair only to grab onto the pillow behind you, “I’m… mm f-f… mmm fuck,” you looked up to the ceiling, feeling your body twitch and convulse below you. The best kind of orgasms were the kind where you couldn’t control your body, and you knew it was building to it.

“Yeah, cum. Fucking… cum,” Toji moaned, feeling himself on the verge of cumming again just by seeing you so overstimulated. The tears coming from your eyes and the way you cried for an orgasm to happen made him so aroused it was insane. You two needed to have sex like this more often… he’d never felt such pleasure in his life before. Yeah, your sex life was good, but this was great. Seeing you so broken and seeing you fucked stupid was something he never knew he needed.

Then it happened. You felt a weird sensation build and then release in between your legs, followed by such an intense pleasure you almost felt faint. It rushed through your core and into your brain, causing a momentary lapse in your system. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. Yet at the same time, you were gulping down air and grinding against your husband's throbbing cock. You came, squirting down his length and crying out in a way you never had before. And your water broke, seeping through your legs and releasing in a pleasurable way you’d never experienced before. It was a different kind of feeling. A huge release followed by an even bigger sensation building up inside of you.

Toji came at the sight of you losing full control, and he whimpered at the sight of you squirting on him. The guys a bit stupid so he couldn’t tell if it was squirt or the water … either way, he was horny and happy. He thrust a few more times into your battered pussy as you came down from your loud high. He looked down at the mess you two had made on your freshly made white sheets, then he looked at you.

“Do you … have the baby bag ready?” You mumbled, looking up at the ceiling with a hazy expression. Oh yeah, you were completely out of it.

“Yeah, why?” Toji asked, pulling himself out of you and groaning at the pleasurable yet sensitive sensation.

“T… Toji. My water just broke,” you glanced at him and blinked a few times.

“Yeah I know,” he rolled his eyes before stopping, “Oh. Shit.”

#jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #jjk fushiguro #zenin #smut #x reader smut #x reader #garfunklefield writing

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woewriting · 1 month

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basorexia (i)

pairing: cairo sweet | reader summary: you're dying to know what cairo's lips taste like. word count: 2295 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no pronouns used, kissing, slightly nsfw, sexual tension, a bit angsty, not exactly a happy ending, sorry...

part 1 . part 2 | masterlist

Clearing your throat for the 5th time since class started, you tried to look away from the girl that stood in front of the class, paper in hands as she read the words written on it to everyone. The brown eyes would often travel around looking for any reactions that she would entice, from Mr. Miller, to her best-friend, to the rest of the students and finally landing on you.

Cairo gave you a brief smile, but enough to make you blush. The heat wave taking over your body, making you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Sitting in the front row, that close to her, was not the best idea.

As the brunette finished presenting her paper, the professor motioned for her to return to her seat, right next to you. Also not a good idea, but she insisted and it wasn’t hard to comply with her wishes. You swallowed hard, eyes looking at your hands that rested on your lap, avoiding to look at her, being this closed never failed to agitate your heart, especially after her readings.

“So,” Cairo leaned closer, whispering in your ear with a sweet voice. “What did you think?”

“It was incredible, as well as everything you've ever written. You have a way with words that never fails to astonish me.”

The girl let out a small laugh. “Is ‘astonish’ your word of the day?”

“How did you guess?” You retorted in the same playful tone.

You finally looked at her. Big mistake, if you cared to admit to yourself.

Cairo was close, leaning into your personal space as she always did to test your reactions. Her eyes carried unspoken words that you wished she’d share with you the same way she does when working on her writing, but it never seemed to be something that would, eventually, come to reality. She had many things she wanted to share, unfortunately, none involved you.

Not directly, at least.

Feeling your throat dry at the sudden closeness, your eyes darted from hers, down to her lips where a small smile rested, knowing damn well the effect she had on you.

“I can read you like a poem.” She whispered, pulling back to pay attention to the rest of the class.

It was a truthful statement, she can read you as if you were written by a high schooler, with shallow, badly used words that confuses everyone around, including you.

Sometimes it felt like she was interpreting you wrongly, in her own ways.

And that only made you more confused as to what was the feeling you felt when she was beside you. And what she felt for you.

Yet, you burn inside to hear her mind.

The rest of the morning went by like the wind, occasionally blowing on your hair, threatening to rain every second. Like every other ordinary day.

Cairo would spend time either writing or reading in her own world, completely focused on the words she would type on her laptop, stealing glances from you every now and then when Winnie’s laugh got her attention. You pretend not to feel the brown eyes burning your side profile, but the brunette always noticed the way you gulp and bite on your lower lip before returning her attention to her work.

Only then you’d look at her. And it was as if the world was muted by whoever controls this reality, making everything disappear as you gazed at her face, from the messy fringe that covered her forehead to the light-colored dots that were spread on her skin, your favorite one being a small freckle on her lip that you wished to kiss away and steal it for you.

You were dying to know how she tastes, if it was bitter like the coffee she insists is better than any other sugary garbage you and Winnie chooses to drink, or if it was minty like the cigarettes that always rested in her hands. Maybe it tasted like cinnamon because of the gum she carries in her back pocket, or cherries since she loves to eat them when she’s alone at home.

Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Winnie Black and whatever was the subject she seemed excited to talk about, and all you could do was laugh when she did.

Cairo noticed your behavior.

On your way through the trees, you trailed behind her, just admiring the way she would kneel whenever a new insect crossed her way.

“Don’t you think they’re cute?” She asked with glowing eyes, looking hypnotized by the green praying-mantis in her hands.

“It would be more interesting if they could kung-fu.”

Cairo rolled her eyes at your joke, coming closer to you to lay the innocent animal in your own hands, a disgusted feature took over your face once you felt the tickles in your skin.

“If they could kung-fu, you’d be dead by now.” She joked back, walking her way out of the woods that led to the old, empty mansion on the other side, leaving you behind unsure on what to do with the tiny creature in your hands. Luckily, it jumped off on its own as if it had noticed your discomfort.

You laughed to yourself, following her once again.

The old place had slowly become your second house as you stayed there more than at your actual home. With Cairo’s parents out for most of the days on working trips, you’d find yourself more comfortable with the other’s presence as you both worked on your assignment in silence after class.

It was dark outside the window when you let out a sigh of relief, finally finished with your work. Looking over to Cairo, she still had the laptop on her lap, but little did you know she had finished her own homework way before you.

“Do you know what ‘basorexia’ means?” Her voice made you stare at her with a confused aura. You denied with your head, sitting back up on the chair you were in. Cairo took one last drag on the cigarette that rested between her fingers before putting it out on the small, porcelain plate on the nightstand by her bed. She walked to you at a slow, calculated pace until she was standing in front of you. “It means ‘the overwhelming desire to kiss someone’.” She explained, calmly placing herself on your lap.

“What are you doing?” You choked on your voice, trying to back yourself away from her, but her hands firmly on your shoulders and legs resting side by side with yours made you stay in place.

“I want the truth.”

“What truth, Cairo?”

When the brunette leaned closer, you could smell the mint in her breath. Her fingers found the collar of your shirt, touching your neck with the tip of them.

“About what you want.” Her eyes were dark, pupils full blown at the feeling of you so tensed up under her touch. “I see the way you look at me, an overflowing desire that is almost drowning you in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried to play off, but your voice failed you as you looked away from her, focusing on the vintage furniture that decorated her bedroom; everything looked so antique, matching perfectly with the personality of the girl stranding your lap.

Cairo’s hand left your shoulder to lock your chin over her index finger as she made you look at her.

“You can lie to yourself as many times as you want, but you cannot lie to me.” Her thumb brushed softly on your lower lip and you had to stop yourself from sucking it into your mouth. “You think you’re doing a great job at hiding what’s in your head, but your body gives away your true intentions.”

“And how’s that?” The low, curious tone in your voice made the girl lean closer, brushing her lips against yours.

“Your eyes love to travel up and down my body, but they seem to have a strange obsession with my lips.” She licked on them, the tip of her tongue touching you. You closed your eyes for a mere second, but the small tilt on your chin made you open them again. “Your cheeks gain a pinkish tone whenever I lean closer to you and you stop breathing as if the air I let out is toxic. Your hands refuse to touch me out of fear I’ll burn under your touch.” The hand that wasn't holding you in place found yours that were glued to your sides, making them rest on her thigh. “So, I want you to tell me what’s going on inside your pretty little head.”

Cairo Sweet is objective, what she wants, she’ll have it. One way or another. And she had her own ways to justify the means.

Your brain tried to form a single sentence, but the words had left your vocabulary, all it had left was the new word you had just learned: basorexia.

Was that what you felt in your chest?

Once again, the girl proved to be ahead of you, knowing your true wishes. Reading you like an open book displayed on her desk among the others that she devours.

You took one last deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before you let out all that’s been troubling you since you first met Cairo.

“I want to kiss you. But only once, I think.” The girl smiled, reaching out for your other hand so that now both rested on her thighs. “I just want to know what it’s like and I’ve spent enough time staring at your lips that I can’t bear the thought of never finding out.”

“What if I don’t want to kiss you?”

“Then that makes us two liars instead of one.” Your voice was nothing but a lowly whisper, afraid to break that thick tension that surrounded the both of you like the smoke that Cairo blew out of her mouth.

Your hands moved up and down, never trespassing the fabric of her black skirt. You didn't want to abuse a boundary that you didn't know existed, but imagined. Everything about Cairo was a mystery, she spent more time hidden in the words of her books than actually expressing her wishes out loud, it was rare the times she felt comfortable saying them, and when she did, it felt like you were standing in the eye of the hurricane.

Her hands were heavy on your shoulder, slowly moving to tangle in your hair to pull your head back. You looked at her with half-opened eye lids and parted lips as she carefully analyzed you, deciding on what should be her next step. All she knew was that, after the first one, she couldn’t take two back.

Cairo fixed herself on your lap, holding back a heavy breath that threatened to escape her throat at the touch of your burning hands moving past her skirt. You wanted to grab the flesh and move her against you just to hear that sound again.

You watched with hypnotized eyes when she stopped smiling, hovering over you with open lips, her hot breath mixing with yours, but never closing the small gap between the two of you. She was unsure, hesitant, almost as if waiting for someone to push her off the edge of a cliff.

This time you took the first step, your hands held her waist and your torso moved against hers to capture her lips with your own, sucking on her bottom lip. Cairo kissed you with hunger, easily taking control of the situation with her hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you towards her as she pushed herself on you, not even air could go through you.

She tasted divine on your tongue, even more than you could ever dream of, and the sounds that were escaping from her parted lips whenever you tilted your head for a different fitting filled your ears and soon became your favorite sound. When she moaned against your mouth, feeling your nails dig the skin of her waist, you went to heaven and back, your body heating up as if hell embraced you in a tight hug.

Moving one of her hands from your face, the brunette guided yours up, squeezing her breast with a small smile while kissing you before leading it down her body once more.

She was hot against your fingers and it was easy for you to slide them against her slit at a torturous pace. Cairo held your hand steady, deciding to move her hips against you, whining on your lips with eyes closed. Short nails digging at the nape of your neck, a bearable burning on the spot.

Trailing your kisses down her neck, you licked on her pulse point, earning yourself a hoarse moan before she pulled back from you, standing up before she reached the ‘no return’ point.

You nearly screamed at the sudden abruption, following behind her. As your arms were to wrap around her waist, she pushed you down back on the chair with a firm hand on your chest. You stared at her, frustrated and bothered, and she didn’t seem so different from you. Swollen lips, dark eyes and heavy breathing, her shoulders fastly moving up and down. Once again, you were confused with her actions.

The awkward silence that filled the bedroom was loud, screaming inside of your head. You wanted to slap that expression on her face, the one that looked at you with a tensed jawline. Instead, you just got up and took the jacket that rested on the chair’s arm, hearing the flick of her lighter before you closed the door and walked down the stairs, a burning feeling on your chest.

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stsgluver · 4 months

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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.”

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school.

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone.

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room.

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen.

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse.

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves.

“merry christmas!”

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief.

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room.

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right.

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away.

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen

this tag list is insane ty all for the support

#snapshot #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo fic #gojo x you #jjk #jjk fluff

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 3 months

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Based on this post

Arthur when Merlin gets home from work: *runs up and hugs him without saying anything about it*

Merlin: *immediately drops everything in his hands and hugs back, not letting go and giving one of the best hugs of his life because it’s Arthur and he’s spent 1500 years loving him*

Arthur, after five or more minutes of bear hugging the man he’s in love with: (mutters) no homo.

Merlin, the immortal: *dies*

Merlin: *pulls away and pats Arthur’s shoulder in the most awkward “buddy” kind of way before walking into their flat and locking himself in his room to have an existential crisis/gay panic*

Things are awkward as hell, until Arthur asks Merlin if he can finally show him movies. Merlin goes to get his laptop and opens Google to find Netflix, seeing recent searches.

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: huh?

Merlin, dealing with what he can: why did you want to buy an archive?

Arthur: …is this magic? How-

Merlin: no, just technology again. You had search history on. I can um… see everything you’ve researched.

Arthur: everything..?

Merlin: everything…

Arthur: what did you say about um… oh right. Fuck.

Merlin: *smiles and pulls Arthur into a hug*

Arthur: Merlin? I- I thought…

Merlin: you are the most important thing in every universe, world, and realm to me, Arthur. 1500 years didn’t change that, and whatever comes next for us certainly won’t change it either. If there’s ever anything that you want to tell me, then I’ll be right here.

Arthur: *hugs back and hides his face, teary eyed, in Merlin’s neck*

Arthur, murmuring against Merlin’s neck: I’m bisexual.

Merlin: Thank you for telling me,

Arthur: And I’m in love with you.

Merlin, teary eyed and beaming: I love you too, Arthur. More than anything.

Arthur: Not in a no homo kind of way. In a, I’d marry you if I could kind of way…

Merlin: *laughs a little* I think you’ve got something else to research,

Arthur: what?

Merlin: *pulls the laptop to himself and types something before turning it around to Arthur*

Can I marry my best friend? (After I take him out on a date)

(He did that thing where you search one thing then type something else into the search bar without pressing go)

Arthur reads how its legal for men to get married then looks up at Merlin, he jumps on him and tackles him into a hug, laughing and crying happily. They watch heart stopper and Arthur starts playing rugby, they get a dog, date for three months before Arthur asks Merlin to marry him randomly one evening.

Merlin says yes, of course, so two days later when he gets in from work, Arthur hugs him, covers his eyes and leads him into their living room where he set up a full romance novel style proposal. He gets down on one knee with a really nice ring and gives a whole speech. (my aro ass can’t imagine what, but you know what I mean. It’s super cute and romantic)

Merlin says yes again and they get married soon after and live on a farm before both dying of old age after a long and happy life together.

Merlin spends the rest of their lives teasing Arthur about the “no homo” after their first hug thing.

Merlin also teaches Arthur about clearing search history and incognito, Arthur uses it exclusively for surprising Merlin because they’ve got no need for any secrets between them in this lifetime.

#would you look at that #I wrote something without angst #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin #merlin emrys #merthur #incorrect merlin quotes #headcanon #modern merlin #reincarnation #i’m bad at tagging #bisexual Arthur pendragon #bisexual

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 7 - "Do you recognise this?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"So, who did it?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowed at the children before him. Clark was next to him trying once more to persuade Bruce that it was unnecessary to go after the kids like this.

The 'kids' in question were the assembly of three of his children, Clark's child and clone and a couple of their respected friends.

"Father, I do not know what you are talking about." Damian piped up offended and crossed his arms. Next to him Jon scratched the back of his head in mild confusion and Dani despite not knowing what was going on but still glaring in defiance at Bruce.

"If this is about our prank war it was definitely not necessary to interrogate our friends too." Tim added looking every bit like he would be somewhere else than here. Kon and Bart were with him. Kon looked rather unsure while Bart had gone and gotten himself popcorn for whatever was going to happen.

"Look old man, how was I supposed to know Replacement would trigger the glitter bomb inside the Batmobile. I already cleaned that up!" Jason put in his two cents, Roy eyeing the other with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce stared at them quietly, not saying a word as Clark continued to fuss next to him to not make it a big deal and that a deep clean would surely fix everything.

"It's not your prank war I am talking about. Alfred will deal with you about the chaos you caused." The three respected batkids swallowed audibly while their friends chuckled. "No, what I am asking is which one of you decided it was a good idea to dye Clark's hero suit and my cape pink."

"Wait, someone actually did that to Dad?!" Jon piped up wide eyed as Dani broke out laughing causing Damian to eye the ghost girl with narrowed eyes and suspicion.

"Who would…" Tim started but didn't finish as his mind came up with possible suspects. Kon on Bart next to him went onto their phones, trying to search up pictures of Superman in a pink hero suit.

Jason and Roy broke out laughing too, voicing their respect to whoever managed to do that.

Bruce's eye twitch at the children's reaction. He then proceeded to pull out an opened can of pink dye and placed it on the table in perfect view of everyone. "Do you recognise this? Jason? Tim?"

"WHY ME?!" They both cried out in protest and Bruce narrowed his eyes on the two. "Jason, your last prank on Tim involved a glitter bomb with pink dye, the Batmobile's seats are still strained pink. Tim, you dyed Damian's shirts pink a couple days ago at the beginning of your prank war."

"So it was you Drake! You are going to pay for this!"

"And I will do it again if you ever touch my laptop again, Demon Brat!"

"How does that even prove that one of us did it!"

"It doesn't!"

"Do you think there might be someone else that fell victim to the pink dye in the JL?"

"Maybe?"

"Why would someone even go after Clark? He has nothing to do with our prank war."

"Jason, my friend. You are indirectly admitting that you would dye Batman's cape pink."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as the children before him (he ignored that at least two of them were over 20, they were children period) started to argue among themselves while Damian's newest friend the Daughter of Phantom, who recently joined the Justice League Dark, was by now rolling on the ground laughing.

Not far from the interrogation Danny sat by a table next to Alfred snacking on some of the best cookies he had ever gotten to eat. He had originally come by to hang out with Tim, Kon and Bart but now he was threaded to some A+ entertainment, Dani was clearly enjoying.

"You recognize the can, don't you Mr. Daniel? I believe you accidentally left it behind in the cave." Danny side eyed the butler next to him and grinned into his next bite of a cookie. "Supes deserved it."

The man hummed and Danny smiled as he was offered another cookie. "I believe I know why but would you please elaborate on why Master Bruce also got targeted? I will most likely be the one who will have to wash out the cape."

The half ghost didn't say anything at first before shrugging. "Kon wasn't the only one who deserved some Justice for how he had been treated in the past. I know they get along now but still… a little pay back for past mistreatment wouldn't hurt anyone right?"

"Ah, so it was for Mr. Conner and Master Jason." The butler smiled in understanding, pushing over a box of take away cookies to Danny. "May I suggest that next time you seek out justice for the boy, that there are other -embarrassing- ways to achieve it."

Danny only gave the man a feral grin as he hopped off the chair with the box in hand. It was time to release the children of Bruce's interrogation. He would just put the blame on Constantine somehow, like a spell gone wrong instead of actual dye being the cause. The man owned him anyway since he had gotten most of his soul back aside from a couple of pieces he was still negotiating over in the Ghost Zone.

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vagabond-umlaut · 3 months

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⁙ ensnared

No matter what the world says, no matter what the world believes in, Gojo is nothing but a puny fly to the wily spider that you are. Flying headfirst into the gossamer web your skilled fingers have spun, time after time after time— The silk threads, perfectly tailored. Just for him.

▸ Gojo x Wife!Reader; Tooth-Rotting Domestic Fluff; Very Very Suggestive Themes; Nudity; Mentions of Food & A Plant Dying; Gojo calls his wife 'cookie'; Everything is fair in love and war ;) [This Fic's Rated Mature -> MDNI!!! ^_^]

▸ This is for you, Dilay! *MWAH MWAH MWAH* @roseqzpd

For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.

One:

Sweet dishes, regular intake of which will put anyone into a hyperglycemic crisis. [Good thing, he isn't just 'anyone'.]

And the other one:

You. His wife. His sweet, sweet, sweetest wife, who's currently peering up at him from his lap, wrapped in nothing except a way too tiny bath towel— however– he instructs himself the nth time since you emerged from the bathroom– you are a temptation he refuses to cave in to... just for now.

Strangely cognizant of his mind [like you are, more often than not], Gojo watches you intently stare at his lips for a full two seconds. Then repeat the request you made less than thrice today, but your husband already feels his defenses crumbling.

"'Toruuu," you whine, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing closer, "Won't you help your wife choose a pretty outfit for today's get-together? I'm so confused... You want your wife to look the best among all the ladies there– tell me, don't you?"

"'Course, I do, cookie!" he exclaims, indignant as to how you could ever think anything otherwise— before a sudden ping! from his laptop sends him careening to the ground like a deflated balloon.

The poor man sighs. "But there's still so much work left to be done–"

"– which you can always complete once you've helped me, 'Toru," you cut him off with a pout, that slowly gathers a playful tinge as you ask, "Why are you behaving like this, though? Usually, you jump at the faintest chance to get out of paperwork. But now..."

Eyes growing comically wide, your voice sinks to a conspiratorial whisper. So worried, so cute. "Did anyone threaten to leak where your secret sweets stash is, 'Toru? If you– you know– submit these reports too late like always, eh?"

The only response your husband manages to eke out for your query is a very strained chuckle... 'cause, yeah, that's right.

Nanami promised to do exactly that– telling his very dear but having-black holes-for-stomachs students where his foreign sweets are stored– besides telling you how the white-haired man hogged ten chocolates one day despite his allowed daily two– and how your favourite star cactus didn't die from age but from him overwatering it, that week you were on a mission in France two months back– should he submit anything late ever again... But, no, wait.

You were on a foreign trip when he was given this ultimatum, and returned only last night. And Nanami promised to not tell you these yet– at least, not any time before that damned deadline's over. So, how...

"'Toruuu," Your petulant self, very adorably so, draws him away from his musings. And Gojo swears, if he wasn't losing before, he certainly is now. Your watery eyes, lower lip jutted out just the right amount and your nails leaving a delicious trail on his undercut— they've always been too strong for the world's strongest sorcerer.

Groaning, he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. And darts his eyes to bore into yours lest they travel to your soft skin peek– NO, DON'T GO THERE. NOT NOW. PLEASE.

He huffs. "Okay, fine."

You open your mouth, probably to screech in delight, but your husband shushes you with a finger to your lips. He continues, shifting his tone to a graver timbre, "But only to help you choose your outfit– nothing else."

Lips curving into a wide smile behind his finger, your eyes gleam in terribly concealed delight. He has to actively stop himself from kissing you right then and there— there are still three mission reports left to be filed.

"And if I catch you trying to change the stream to anything else," he warns. You nestle closer into him, blinking your gorgeous eyes up at him in silent wait. A chuckle [which sounds more embarrasingly choked than anything] leaves him.

Features shifting into something brighter than a supernova, you push his finger away. And giggling, say, "You won't go easy on me— right, 'Toru?"

[In hindsight, though, Gojo thinks he should have recognised this plan to be yours.

From the way you step out the bathroom, not in your usual bathrobe but a towel... To the way you beg him to help decide your dress, in spite of knowing well how he leans towards only white or light blue choices... To the way your towel– pretty conveniently and accidentally, of course– slips lower not even ten minutes into the task...

To the soft 'Oops!' you exhale but make no move to cover your exposed chest, a mute thrill clear in the curve on your lips as you watch him watch, drink in, mentally devour the delectable sight before— your ever-present coyness nowhere to be found even as he strips you, nothing hiding you anymore from his starving gaze...

To the smug smile you're offering him now, the next day, after he's been thoroughly chewed out by Yaga for submitting his work a whopping four hours late...

Your wicked, brilliant, bewitching eyes go from him, to the mountain of empty candy wrappers on the centre table, to the empty pot of soil on the windowsill– the one that had your annoying, attention-hogging desert plant– then return to him.

A shudder runs down his spine— which doesn't take long to transform into a shiver of excitement. And a very, very warm burst of fondness right in the middle of his chest.

The man shakes his head with a laugh, 'cause—

For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.

And he'll be a fool, if he is to mess with the second– and more important of the two–

You.

His sweet, sweet, sweeter than the sweetest sweet dish, but startlingly sharp wife.]

[Also, no joke, but isn't your 'Toru insanely in love with you, even more for that?]

Gojo, some time later: My cookie is sooo smart– did ya know that, Nanamin? Hehe. Nanami: Why TF do you always hide in my office every time your wife is mad at you?

▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.

▸ masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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et6rnalsun · 5 days

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ᡣ𐭩 chris sturn x fem! reader

warnings: nothing !!

summary: judging met gala’s outfits with your bf while being sick

you were always excited for the met gala. curious to see the outfits and be able to judge them — especially those that completely missed the point.

but what excited you the least, in that moment, was the fact that you were sick. luck wasn't much on your side, and the annoying burning in your throat and runny nose made the experience fucking torture.

your boyfriend, on the other hand, was never really interested that much. he simply scrolled through Instagram posts to see the various celebrities, without going further.

and instead, there he was, taking care of a sick and almost delirious you while forced to watch the met gala.

you two were lying on your bed, the only lights on were those of your led’s, set to blue, and the one emanating from the screen of your laptop placed on both your legs. your head rested between the crook of his neck and his chest, with your hair falling completely over him as he ran his fingers through it in a soothing way.

"i'm here to see women, anyway. all men are always so boring" you muttered, rolling your eyes after seeing the simplicity of chris hemsworth's outfit. chris chuckled, shaking his head at your bad judgment. "you're judging them all" he raised an eyebrow. "and you do it while you're in your fucking pajamas, baby"

you made a sound of mock offense, lifting your head to look at him. "well, my pajamas have more sense than some of these outfits" you shrugged, chuckling.

“trust me, i can agree” he nodded, bringing his hand down to your ass which he then squeezed between his fingers with a force that made you huff in amusement. “they make your ass absolutely perf-” you silenced him with a simple look, his hands raised in a innocent gesture.

in fact, only women were receiving your total love. the one you favored the most was tyla, for whom you had to sit on the bed while slapping your hand against your mouth for the shock — and with chris having to force you to lie down and pull the covers over you again.

"i think you can express your love even while lying down too" chris sighed amusedly, placing a hand on your forehead gently to see if your temperature was still high.

you let out a grunt, snuggling into him again as you closed your eyes briefly at the contact of his hand. “no i can't, baby” you complained, shaking your head.

soon after, you weren't even paying attention to the laptop anymore. your fever had most likely risen again, and your eyes were fighting the urge to close and sleep. chris's warm embrace didn't help at all, your senses seemed expanded as his chest felt like a big cloud more comfortable than ever.

“oh my god” after a while, you were fully awake again, and the words came out of your mouth almost like a scream. this worried chris, who sat up slightly on the bed as he looked down at you. "what? are you okay?"

"no!" you huffed, pointing to the laptop. THE mike faist had appeared on the screen, and your brain had screwed up the 'all men are boring at the met gala' mentality "i should be there with him, but instead i'm here in bed dying"

chris blinked. 1 time. 2 times. "i'll be here watching you die then, doing nothing" probably didn’t appreciate your comment at all.

likes & reblogs are highly appreciated

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #fem reader #fluff #met gala #mike faist appreciation

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kitkatscabinet · 7 months

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Whumptober - 05: Buried Alive

Simon Riley x gn! reader

A/N: Laptop finally fixed but now I'm sick!! Motivation at zero too but I hope y'all enjoy.

You woke gasping for air, coughing as your lungs filled with dust particulate. Taste was the first of your senses to return, an unpleasant mix of ash and plaster stuck to the linings of your mouth.

Your head aches something fierce and though your vision is still slightly blurry you can still see the blood that covers your fingers from after you’d touched your hairline. The ringing in your ears is almost unbearable and it makes your head ache even more.

Your memories are even hazier than your vision and it takes more than a few minutes before you remember where you are. You remember Gaz’s voice, far more frantic than was typical of the usually cool man, as he’d yelled at you to get out of the building.

You think you’d only made it about halfway down from the top before the bomb went off. In hindsight, it’s probably the reason you’re still alive and not completely buried under five floors' worth of building materials.

Some might call it lucky that you hadn’t been outright crushed or even blown up in the initial blast. But as you lay there in pain unable to do anything but slowly die you can’t find it in yourself to agree.

Though you’d probably die soon, whether from blood loss or lack of oxygen, there’s a sudden groan from the structure surrounding you and for a brief moment you think you might just get crushed after all.

Tears slip from your eyes both from the pain and despair. You don’t want to die, not like this, cold and alone buried beneath tonnes of cement, but you know you will.

The little movement you have in your neck is used to try and orient yourself to your surroundings, the darkness and dust greatly hindering your efforts. Any more attempts to move are instantly thwarted by a mix of sharp pain and weight bearing down on your body. Specifically your left leg, it’s too dark to see all that well but you can tell your leg is pinned by a slab of what used to be the wall. Or maybe the ceiling.

It was so painful that you quickly gave up, not wanting your last moments to be spent in that much pain. All in all, you were fucked.

As you lay dying you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to your lieutenant. You wondered how he’d react to your untimely death. As terrible and selfish as it was for you to even consider, you hoped he’d mourn at least a little.

Simon Riley had wormed his way into your heart and you doubted he’d ever leave. You just wish you could have told him, told him that to you, he was the sun.

There’s a slight crackle and through the ringing in your ears, you hear what you think is Price’s baritone echoing around the space. Somehow your radio has survived the blast, but as you try and pinpoint its location it quickly becomes clear you won’t be able to reach it to respond.

You almost don’t even try, it’s not until you hear Simon yelling that an ounce of your energy returns. Maybe if you could just reach the radio… then you could tell him how you felt.

Reaching out, you stretch your fingertips through the darkness, your muscles straining and shaking in protest. There’s a concerning creak and more dust and gravel sprinkles over you in another shower as your movements unsettle the collapsed pile surrounding you.

Still, you refuse to stop and eventually, your fingertips clasp over their target and you pull it close, even as something in your pinned knee cracks and you let out a shriek of pain. Dragging the radio towards you shakily you manage to form two words before the pain catches up once more.

“East stairwell.” Instantly there's chaos over the coms once more, hardly anything you can make out over Price barking orders and Soap’s colourful swearing. Black dots are splotching in your vision and your lungs work in overtime to collect air once more.

The pain is blinding and you want so badly to just pass out and be free from it all but your traitorous body won’t let you.

Above you, Simon is digging through the rubble furiously, blood roaring in his ears as he screams at his teammates to help him. His throat is raw and his fingers are bloody but he refuses to give up, continuing to speak through the comms, to let you know that he was coming for you.

Simon has had a lot of shitty, earth-shattering moments in his life but as he sifts through cement and rubble in a desperate search for you he thinks this might be the worst. From the moment it had become clear you hadn’t made it out in time it was like the earth had been pulled from beneath his feet.

His face is wet, and it’s not until Soap and Price collectively manhandle him away from the rubble that he realises he’s crying. He’s screaming at the both of them, words he can’t even hear and Soap’s right eye is already starting to blacken from where Simon had socked him.

They’re trying to talk him down, getting him to sit and breathe but Simon doesn’t even feel like he’s in his own body anymore. He can’t hear anything through the ringing and pounding, can’t see anything except the image his brain conjures of you lying dead or dying and so alone.

He wonders if you’d called for him. You always did, even if nobody else realised. Whenever you were overwhelmed, stressed or in danger it was his name that came to you first, and he always answered. Always.

He’s standing once more, trying to push past his captain and Soap who are still trying to corral him away from the site. He didn’t understand why they were preventing him from helping you. Simon would always come when you called, he needed you to know that he’d come to save you. He needed-

Gaz is shouting something and it takes the two men holding him back by enough surprise that Simon manages to muscle his way through. He doesn’t hear what Gaz said, but as he gets closer he realises it doesn’t matter because he can see you.

Bruised, bloodied and covered in dust and ash but he can see you.

He drops to his knees by your side, ignoring the sting of whatever sharp object he’d landed on and cups your face with shaky hands. Gloved fingers run delicately over your skin as he wipes away the grime. He’s begging you to open those pretty eyes, to let him see that you’re ok.

You don’t hear or answer his pleas, and Simon remains rooted to the spot, desperately taking in every last inch of your face and committing it to memory, even as your blood stains his pants and gloves.

#x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #whumptober #simon riley #cod ghost

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lovelytsunoda · 7 months

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kiss me down by the broken treehouse // mick schumacher

summary: honeymoons in the midwest, heart shaped jacuzzis and scented bubble bath. this is how mick wants the rest of his life to be

pairing: mick schumacher x newlywed reader!

warnings: vague allusions to sex, two people being sickeningly in love, bathing together. nicolas cage should be a warning in itself

author's note: this is the last fic in the cozy collection and not gonna lie, it's making me very emotional. thank you for coming along for this cozy and warm, and sometimes scandalous adventure <3. i can't wait to share the christmas collection with you all.

the hotel suite was dim as she slipped the rose gold wedding band off her finger, dropping it on the dresser next to the almost identical one her husband wore.

mick was sitting by the window, lighting a tangle of scented candles as the heart-shaped jacuzzi tub filled with bubble bath.

"baby, what's all this?" she asked softly, leaning down to kiss him.

they had spent the day in town, visiting country stores and hiking trails, downing more apple cider than mick had ever thought possible. they were cold to the bone when they returned to the hotel, but that didn't stop mick from pulling his wife into bed and reminding her just how happy he was to spend the rest of their lives together.

"just another way to show how much i love you." mick hummed, reaching for the bottle of champagne he'd had room service deliver on their way back to the bed and breakfast. "i figured the best way to end the night was a nice bubble bath and a movie."

she smiled, giggling as she kissed the side of his head. "i knew there was a reason i married you."

she disentangled herself from mick, slender fingers making quick work of the belt holding her plush hotel robe together, fabric pooling over the floor and revealing her naked body to her lover.

blushing furiously, mick turned off the tap, quickly filling two champagne flutes before stripping out of his own hotel robe.

“after you, my darling wife.” he grinned, taking y/ns hand and helping her into the tub. he slipped under the bubbles after her, nuzzling into her back and pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade. “ich liebe dich.”

“I love you too, mickie.”

she settled on one of the built in tub seats, smiling at her husband before she looked dreamily out the frost covered window. the trees in the vermont woods next to the hotel were dyed shades of red-orange, the colors themselves beyond breathtaking.

“whatcha starin’ at, pretty girl?” mick pondered, kissing the top of her head as he settled in next to her.

“the trees. nature. it’s beautiful. how did you manage to get a room with such a great view?”

mick shrugged. “turns out, telling the hotel you’re on your honeymoon gets you special privileges. but that view isn’t as a great as the one I had earlier when I was on top of you. or the view I have every morning when I wake up with you in my arms.”

she giggled, playfully slapping his shoulder. "mickie!"

mick laughed, kissing the side of her head before reaching for the laptop next to the tub. "how do you feel about the nicolas cage dracula movie?"

"absolutley not! when i get nightmares, are you going to nurse me back to sleep?"

"yes." mick said solemnly, loading up amazon prime on his laptop. "one hundred percent."

y/n snickered, reaching for the champagne. once mick schumacher was alseep, not even a tornado could wake him up. "babe, we both know you'd sleep right through. you sleep like a goddamn rock."

"yeah, babe. you're right. but nicolas cage is in it, it wont be that scary."

“I’m not worried about it being scary; I’m worried about it being gory.” she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of champagne. “if I start watching ‘renfield’ through my fingertips, you’re on your own, mickie.”

mick giggled, hitting the play button before pulling his wife into his lap. “consider me warned. we can watch the original halloween afterwards.”

“you’ve got yourself a deal, husband.” she laughed, passing him a champagne flute.

the room was small and cozy, lit only by the blue glow from micks laptop and the candles around the bath, the air filled with the calming scents of vanilla, cinnamon and pumpkin. micks gentle fingers trailed up and down her thigh as they watched the movie together, sipping champagne and enjoying each others company.

every so often, mick filled the silence with a small praise, a gentle kiss against his wife’s skin. it was still so surreal to him that he would get to hold her in his arms, every day, for the rest of his life.

she rested her head on his shoulder, placing the empty glass back on the ledge outside the tub before she properly folded her body against his, fingertips mindlessly tracing shapes on his chest, the fine blonde hairs dotting his pecs matted to his skin by the water, a few errant bubbles still stark against his skin.

she loved him, truly madly and deeply.

it seemed like just yesterday they had met each other, although it had been almost four years. four great years of love and laughter and highs and lows. and in a blink of an eye, there she was, in her white dress, in micks arms as they danced to a bryan adams song.

four years of feelings she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the joy of feeling for another living, breathing person. and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

when the movie was half over, candle wax dripping into hardwood and the bubbles all faded away from the lukewarm water, skin dried out and pruny, only then did the newlyweds emerge from the heart-shaped tub.

micks touch was gentle as he helped his wife dress in her long, pale nightdress, silk dusting the carpet as she pulled down the handmade quilt, ready to fold herself into bed next to her husband.

he slipped into bed next to her, laying the laptop down in front of them. his fingers played with her hair, twirling strands around her finger before he began to lazily braid a small section, the last half of the movie playing on the small screen.

“mick?”

“yeah?”

“I’m so excited to spend my future with you.”

“me too, Liebling.” he smiled, kissing her forehead. “we’ve got so much to look forward to.”

BONUS

y/nschumacher ❤️🍂

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @diorleclerc @userlando @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #the cozy collection 2023 #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x y/n #Spotify

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t-tomuras · 2 months

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♔ ─── • 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Tenko Shimura x F!reader

Warnings: College / quirkless AU, Tomura is Tenko, mention of breeding, creampie, gentle bullying, orgasm denial, oral ( f receiving ), marking, biting, edging

Wordcount: 7k

Notes: A rework of one of my first ever fics. I.. got carried away. Thank you to beloved kitty cat for reading my insanity

You saw him often in the university’s library, tapping away at whatever handheld he felt like playing on that day while slouched in a beanbag chair, taking advantage of the usual silence in a much less productive way; depending on who you asked that is, certainly not Tenko himself. Sporting his usual ratty hoodie with fraying cuffs and the drawstrings unevenly tugged around him with the hood of it drawn over stylishly unstyled mop of ivory.

You often wonder what holds his attention so steadfastly, what captivates him for hours, not that you watch him the entire time! You utilize the high speed internet for your class work and research assignments, it’s not your fault that the time you both spend in the common area overlaps so often. Tenko likely needs the wifi too, it only worsens your curiosity.

You’d like to approach him, you would. Be like anyone else that meanders around him or approaches him without qualm or hesitation. Undeterred by the resting scowl the man wears regardless of what he’s doing, paired with his indifferent affect, painted Tenko as a silent loner.

He was intimidating to you, simply put.

It didn’t help that the few people he talked to on a semi-regular basis always seemed to agitate him, or at the very least, he was just indifferent to their presence while he was occupied.

Can't really say you blame him either though, you were acquainted with one of the pair that stands with him now.

Well, ‘acquainted’ didn’t seem like the best word to use for the man with dyed onyx locks and more piercings than college credits, Touya Todoroki, better known by the nickname ‘Dabi’. He was from your psych class, hardly spoke and really could hardly ever be bothered to show up to lectures either. He’s a notorious flirt though, your typical ‘bring him home on the holidays to piss off your father’ aesthetic. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a substantial interaction with him outside of Touya stealing (not borrowing as he calls it) your good and expensive pens or rolling your eyes.

And it seems like a common reaction to him in general as you watch Tenko sneering at him while Touya invaded his space, again, today while another… friend, stands idly nearby on his phone as he leans against the desk nearest to the pair.

That one seems much more approachable, relaxed and casual demeanor giving him a more inviting aura. Conventionally attractive with his sandy blond hair artfully disheveled and well cared for facial hair if you didn’t include his unruly brows; he wasn’t quite as tall as the pair before him but had a stockier build to him. He spots your discrete gawking while Touya fights with Tenko over the handheld, grin tugging at full lips as he glances between you and the quarreling duo before he saunters over.

Too late for you to pretend your attention wasn't held by their hissed whispers and quieted antics or for you to quickly gather your scattered belongings and hightail it from the area, so you opt to straighten your spine and fight the heat stinging your nape. Clearing your throat awkwardly as you close your neglected laptop and the barren research paper left open on the screen.

“Name’s Keigo, Keigo Takami,” he introduces himself first, bending at the waist to lean against the desk you’d commandeered as a workstation for the time being, “something caught your eye, sweets?”

The way he flashes another grin in a bid to appear just a bit more charming as he rests his chin in his hand annoys you. Keigo is charismatic, you can admit, but you don’t care for it, especially not after being caught staring, so you’re honest with your response, “who’s that guy you were talking to?”

You know who Tenko is, but he doesn’t need to know the full extent of your interest in him, just that you’re interested in general if not to make it blatantly clear your interest isn't in him specifically. Turning your attention back to your studies as you lift the screen of your laptop again and place your fingers over the keys so you don’t have to watch Keigo visibly deflate at your flippant tone.

He’s quick to recover though, leaning back up to partially rest against the edge of your table like he was across the room, folding his arms over his broad chest as he watches Touya palming Tenko’s face and holding the handheld higher in the air childishly. Keigo’s shoulders sagging as he tilts his head, rolling his eyes as he turns to you, “y’mean Dabs? He’s—“

“No,” you state plainly despite how your ears burn a bit now, cheeks feeling warm as you shake your head and turn to look at Keigo’s friends, “not him. The other guy, the one in the hoodie with white hair.”

Keigo stalls for a moment, blinks almost comically as he dramatically swivels his head between you and the men across the way, “Shimura? You’re asking about.. Tenko?”

Your brows furrow at his tone, none too pleased with how incredulous he sounds. Almost disbelieving, as if it was an unfathomable concept, and he snorts a bit before he adds, “are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You question rhetorically, tone more than a little clipped, brow cocked in challenge. Now that you think about it, were these two even actually Tenko’s friends? The longer you interact with the blond and watch the other you’d think them more bullies than anything. “Yes, Tenko. Is there a problem with that?”

He’s confused to say the least, but he’s willing to throw Tenko a bone. Raising his hands defensively with a sheepish grin and a placating, “nothing nothing at all. Everyone always asks about Dabi, is all.”

“Dunno why,” rolling your eyes as you completely shut your laptop now, fully understanding you’re not likely to get any work completed right now. Turning to Keigo with a deadpan expression, shifting your body completely so your legs are no longer positioned beneath the desk so you can stand to leave, “Tenko seems like much better company.” You’re shoving your small notepad and pens into your bookbag followed by your laptop as you add, “much better than the company he doesn’t presently seem to want to keep.”

“Whoa whoa, wait a minute, you’ve got it all wrong.” Keigo sighs when you scoff, sliding from the tabletop to stand, holding out his hand for you to take (which you don’t) when you begin to push from your seat before letting it fall to his side once more when you’re on your feet. He’s a little taken aback by this entire exchange, Keigo’s never had an issue with talking to women before but pauses briefly to run his fingers through his sandy blond hair in a calming reflex. Taking a breath before he starts again, shoulders squared as if he was resetting himself, “seems like we got off on the wrong foot sweetheart.”

You sneer to yourself at the pet name, pushing your chair back in with a finality before Keigo sidesteps into your path to keep you from leaving, though he does still give space so it doesn’t seem threatening. Arms held up again in yet another bid to be disarming, “that’s my bad. Let’s start over.”

He takes a step closer, moving to stand at your side with his arm gestured out as if to guide your path. Amber hues flitting from your unamused scowl to his friends then back again. Jerking his head into the direction of the two whose quiet quarrel has come to a silent stalemate, “C’mon how about I introduce you then,” chuckling to himself as he straightens his spine and shoves his hands into his pockets when your brow quirks with a cute skeptical pout.

“All in good faith, promise,” signing it with his index drawing an ‘x’ over his heart paired with an admittedly charming wink.

It makes you smile, causing Keigo to mirror the expression albeit with a much broader and toothy grin before you sigh your agreement. Following quietly behind him when you ask, “how do you know him anyway?”

Keigo keeps his stride short, staying in step with you for the most part while he taps at the screen of his phone that he fished from the deep pockets of his baggy pants, humming first to acknowledge he heard you, though you’re sure he wasn’t fully listening. Surprised when he actually answers your question after finishing his text or whatever it was that he was doing, “Dabi and I go way back, him and Tenko are dorm mates though. We’ve all known each other since sophomore year, play games together every now’n’again since Tenko mostly likes to stay to himself.”

You hum in turn, taking in the miniscule amount of information provided and filing it away even though it’s the absolute bare minimum that the blond can provide. Keigo thinks it’s kind of cute too, the interest you’ve taken in Tenko. Genuinely, nobody had ever asked Keigo about Tenko when Touya stood in the same area, not that Tenko was unattractive in the slightest. There was just something about the box dyed bad boy that everyone (man and woman alike, Touya wasn’t finicky) found more alluring than the reclusive man by comparison. It makes him chuckle softly to himself, slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips before you stand before both of the aforementioned men.

Tenko oblivious to you or overtly disinterested as he focuses wholly on the device in his hands now that his peace is uninterrupted compared to the obvious interest Touya takes in your presence. Standing and leaning against the pillar the beanbag Tenko resides in is leaned against, crossing his arms over his chest as Keigo takes the liberty of introducing you.

“I met a little songbird guys,” closing the distance between himself and Touya before taking a firm hold of Touya’s elbow, “too bad Dabs and I gotta get to our Gender Studies class,”

Both you and Touya look equally confused before your heart accelerates, thumping against your ribcage the moment Keigo actually begins to leave with Touya, tugging him along with no other explanation or excuse. You likely shouldn’t be but you’re reeling, floundering for Keigo but he’s already ushering his friend away; ultimately throwing you to the wolves despite doing exactly as he said he would, introduce you.

If you expected him to be a wingman, well, that’s really your own fault, isn’t it?

The door closing upon their exit feels like it echoes, it makes you cringe as you chew at the inside of your cheek nervously. Tenko, however, pays the entire ordeal no mind, already slouching further into his plush seating with his handheld without even so much as an acknowledgement of your presence now that his headache of a roommate was gone.

A moment passes, a beat of silence before you swivel semi-awkwardly on the balls of your feet. Rocking slightly with hands clasped behind your back before you stop and stand straight again, patting your bookbag lightly while chewing on the inside of your cheek. Going over what you could say now because it was becoming increasingly obvious that Tenko had no intention of speaking at all, only sparing you cursory glances while his fingers rhythmically presses the buttons of what you can see now is a custom skinned steam deck.

Agonizing internally to find something, anything, to say before lamely sighing out a trailing, “so..”

“So,” he doesn’t even look up from his game, tone even and bored but that does little to deter the desire for conversation.

“My name’s—“

“I know who you are. Touya doesn’t shut up about the girl in his psych class that he wants to plow,” you don’t like the indifferent glare he fixes you with. It makes your skin heat, the comment taking you off guard as well, leaving your lips parted without a sound leaving them. Words caught in your throat purely by the shock of how casually Tenko divulges that information to you.

Touya wanting to fuck anything with legs was no surprise to you, but for him to openly discuss the desire you sleep with you with his roommate? Someone that knows nothing about you? Utterly mortifying, you’re so embarrassed that you stand before him like a deer in headlights and yet it only continues to get worse as Tenko takes your silence for a different sort of realization, especially whenever you glance to the library’s exit. Exhaling a mirthless chuckle, as if this exchange was an annoyance to him now, “you missed your chance though, Keigo likes to cockblock, they’re not even close to being late.”

“Huh?” He throws you again, recovering enough to express your confusion, “Wait no, actually what?” Missed your chance? Did he think you were simply standing here because you’d wanted to talk to Touya but had a stroke of intentional misfortune?

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you, snorting a bit at the ridiculous notion before it births an incredulous laugh that bleeds into a fit of giggling. Genuinely instead of nervously, long enough you need a moment to recover and for Tenko to pause his game with a curious look, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, it’s really not funny I swear.” And it isn’t funny to you, honestly, but at least the air doesn’t feel so stiflingly awkward anymore. Your giggling subsides relatively quickly, tapering off into a few breathless sounds as you wipe away stray tears that gathered in your lash line.

“I really don’t understand the big deal about him,” you start after you’ve caught your breath, swiping your thumb a second time at the other corner of your eye but you still wear the smile that accompanied your laughter, “but I have absolutely no interest in Touya.”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, “Or Keigo for that matter. I actually really wanted,” trailing slightly but steeling yourself enough to continue, gripping at the cross-shoulder strap of your bookbag, “to talk.. to you?”

You’re only met with silence and unwavering eye contact that makes you squirm under his gaze. Pulling at your fingers and adjusting the strap of your bag nervously while you wait for heaven fucking knows what and if you weren’t in a library you would’ve screamed by now.

Then, finally, he smirks, “you’re pretty cute.”

The squeak that leaves your lips does little to salvage what little of your dignity you feel is intact and your meek, awkward little, ‘thank you’ that only makes him laugh in response just serves to worsen your shame. Ready to bolt and crawl into the safety of your fluffy comforter while you plan how to switch colleges mid-semester.

He scoots over in the tufted, unconventional chair, the millions of beads shifting and groaning beneath his weight earning your attention and pulling you from your internal spiral. Nodding his head to the space he created for you to sit down and whenever you cock your head in confusion Tenko simply rolls his eyes as if your next move should be obvious. When he taps the space he created for you and you still don't grasp the hint he emits a groan as he leans forward to take your hand, tugging you down to sit with him.

Taken by surprise to say the least but it’s a much more pleasant experience than everything else that’s transpired thus far so settling with him is easily done. Tenko keeps his arm propped up, slinging it over your shoulders to tuck you into him when you finally heed the silent command. He, of course, turns his game back on while you shyly snuggle, tucking your head beneath his as you tentatively rest your head against his shoulder.

Suddenly overly conscious of your breathing and wondering if maybe you’re resting against him too much while trying not to shift and writhe too often before he hums a low, “relax, you’re moving too much.” No bite in his tone and, weirdly enough, it soothes you. Forces you to just let your body grow comfortable against his, but the arm that’s securely looped around you makes it difficult to see his screen.

You peek but he moves so he can see the game past your head. “what’re you playin?”

“Dead Space,” tilting the device enough so that you both can see the screen without obstruction. Just in time for some gangly, disfigured creature to lunge at his character. Making you jolt at the sudden shock before Tenko demonstrates an important mechanic to the game. Turning the volume up so you can easily hear the sickening squelch accompanying the action of dismembering the enemy, chuckling lowly when you gag at the noise and turn to stare at his unbothered profile, “s’not for everyone.”

“It’s not so bad, just don’t like the sound design,” in the way that it was incredibly well done enough it elicited physical reactions from you. Settling back into the crook of his throat as you watch him progress in the story.

Sitting in silence for a moment, long enough for the question to burn on your tongue, comfortable enough now that you don’t register that it could reveal just how often you took notice of him.

“Why do you always play in here?” Thankfully, Tenko doesn’t notice. He doesn’t even look away from his screen as he completes a simple puzzle.

“Because Touya is annoying, gets me killed on purpose.”

“Well,” you lift your head enough so you can tilt into his view, “Touyas in class right now, isn’t he?”

He pauses the game again, staring at you for a moment before shoving the handheld into the front pocket of his oversized hoodie and rising to his feet; tugging you up with him without uttering a word. Tenko keeps hold of your wrist while leading you out of the library, pausing just long enough when you fumble to straighten your falling bag, “where are we going?”

“My dorm, you can watch me play on the big screen with the volume up,” he replies so easily and you’re practically giddy at the prospect of being alone with him.

And, somewhere along the trek from the library to his dorm, his broad palm slips from your wrist into your own to hold you a little more comfortably.

His dorm is relatively tidy, save for a discarded hoodie or two lying around with a too full trash can beneath the desk that acts like a tv stand but you’ve heard of the horror shows most boys dorms are so you can’t complain. Even Touya’s side of the room was impeccable, bed made neatly compared to the tousled comforter and haphazardly strewn singular pillow on Tenko’s own mattress.

Heart racing for a moment whenever Tenko points for you to sit while he sets up his steam deck to connect to his tv. Taking a seat awkwardly on the edge of his bed, leaning back enough to feign comfortable ease whenever he makes his way to you. Moving his hand in a shooing motion as he climbs in next to you before opting to help arrange your bodies on the plush pillow top so he could start to play.

Fixing you to situate comfortably in his lap, his chin resting atop your crown with his arms looped around you to grasp his controller; stiff in his hold for only a short while until you relax and lean back against him. Sighing contentedly unknowingly for the last time as Tenko presses start to resume his campaign. You discover quickly that you really don’t like this game much, especially not now with the volume much louder and the picture enlarged to see the gore in vivid detail compared to the smaller screen of his handheld in a public space. Nevermind all the well timed jumpscares and sinister score making you jolt but the chuckle that rumbles in his chest each time is almost worth the torment.

“Scardey-cat,” he teases and you huff, turning your head up and sticking your tongue out at him.

“M’ not,” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as you sink further into his lap and you pout cutely when you hear his snort in response. Humming a dry, “sure you’re not, that’s why you’re jumping.”

“It’s the truth,” scoffing indignantly, dramatically placing your hand over your chest as if he’s insulted you, “I’m just jerking from trying not to sleep is all!” Cheekily with a higher pitch to your tone and Tenko rolls his eyes with a soft smirk at the corner of his scarred lip before you turn upwards once again.

“This game is boring Tenko, the jump scares are cheap,” only for you to eat those words a second later when he’s attacked and he laughs at you when you’re startled enough to turn into his chest to hide from the scene reflexively.

Mocking you by purring out a hushed, “what’s wrong? I thought it was boring?”

“Don’t be mean,” comes your whine, tugging halfheartedly at the fabric of his hoodie before slouching into his chest and crossing your arms. Flustered by the sound of his voice and the soft laughter that reverberates in his chest and with the closeness you can feel it within your own. Clearing your throat as you shift in his hold. Adjusting to sit up, pulling your knees closer to your chest until you’re curled into a tight ball in Tenko’s lap before fiddling with your phone. Growing bored of the device quickly though thanks to all of your social feeds being dead, sighing audibly as you flippantly toss the device onto his mattress to be lost and forgotten before long, the motion pulling some of Tenko’s attention in the quiet treks from objective to objective.

Taking into account this may actually be a bit boring for you, that maybe you don’t want to be scared while watching a game that may not interest you as you spend time with him but the way you hide away and seek solace in Tenko is cute.

Resigning himself to get to his next save point and log off for the day, possibly offer a trip off campus to a bite to eat, telling you as much with a simple, “are you hungry? I’m about to get off.”

Brightening at the notion of a little impromptu venture together for food, giddy with how comfortable interacting with him feels. Nodding at his question as you sit up to pay attention to the screen again just as a cutscene begins to play but of course there's a scare in it and your ass rubs against his crotch when you flinch. He tries not to get hard, especially whenever he was preparing to quit his game, all Tenko needed to do was finish this quick time event and then he’d be able to save his progress.

Gritting his teeth a bit and flaring his nostrils in agitation at the game as well as to draw in steadying breaths because he does not want to get hard from just a little bit of friction and you think him a creep.

But it really feels like you know what you’re doing to him the more that you subtly writhe, each wiggle of your hips and brush of your round ass against his crotch alone is really making it difficult to maintain his composure. Your fidgeting eventually makes him miss a key input within the sequence, killing him in the process and starting him over at the beginning of the cinematic.

Controller vibrating violently in his hands from his death and the beginning of the sequence once again. Palms sweating enough he has to wipe them on his casual joggers and you feel a little bad for getting him killed. Frowning when you glance at him from the corner of your eye and see furrowed brows paired with a scowl marring his usually impassive features.

You think he’s mad at you for getting him killed, rolling your plush bottom lip between your teeth as you shrink into yourself as much as you can. Shimmying lower and unknowingly contributing further for his mounting frustration but in the best of ways that Tenko isn’t used to. Exercising extreme concentration in the hopes of completing this last task without you feeling his swelling cock, already planning on tucking the erection into his waistband until it went away after he’d powered everything down.

But the willpower is waning, nearly eroded to nothing with your soft, “m’ sorry Ten.”

He doesn’t gratify you with a response, just a low hum from the back of his throat before continuing in silence, so focused on willing the blood away from his cock that he misses the last input of the sequence, controller vibrating violently in his palms from damage taken. You tilt up to look at him, pitiful expression on pretty features but Tenko keeps his eyes trained forward. It’s over if he looks at you, he’s sure of it.

What’s it going to look like to you if he pins you to the mattress now? Flips up your skirt to run his fingers teasingly along your clothed slit until the fabric is dampened? Would you want him to? Would you beg for him?

Lost in his daydream of degeneracy, Tenko forgets he’s holding you for real and maybe he’ll blame it on that for the way he holds you tightly when it feels like you’re getting up to leave as he gruffs out a gravely “stay put.”

You make a noise, a small one in the back of your throat something akin to a squeak as your fingers wrap around his forearm. Confusion evident and the shift in the atmosphere between you is palpable but you’re unaware of its nature, lips parting to breathe his name when his own voice cuts you off.

“Just stay there,” a command through grit teeth accompanied by a tightened hold.

“Are you okay? I didn't mean to mess you up.”

Tenko huffs at that, a breathy chuckle as his head hangs, fringe of ivory hanging in his view. You couldn’t possibly still think this was about his now forgotten video game that continues to loop the same cinematic each time he dies, could you? Surely nobody could be this oblivious and he voices as much, “you’re messing with me right? Pretending to be this cute and innocent?”

You don’t respond, features pinched in confusion, shifting in his hold to try and see his face when you finally feel it. Flinching slightly but you make no attempt to lift away from Tenko, heat stinging rising up your throat and warming your cheeks up to your ears. Was it from your squirming? Just because? Your mouth opens and closes but you're at a loss for words, only managing a dumb, “I wasn't” before gasping at the first vibration against your crotch.

Accidental at first, purely coincidence with where his controller came to rest in the weighted exchange, charged now as passive features morphing into a darkened expression. A devious smile spreading slowly when you squirm at the sensation, but Tenko’s observant.

Leaning forward until his lips are against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spin as he teasingly asks, “Does that feel good?” as he pulls your back to rest flush to his chest. Pressing his controller to your mound with a little more pressure than the first time., earning a gasp at the sensation, looking up at him almost pleadingly (for what you aren’t sure) before it vibrates again.

Tenko’s eyes widening with interest at the sound of your sharp inhale, the way your body tenses against his but you don’t recoil from the contact before he takes on a hooded gaze. Calmly pushing the remote under your skirt as his other hand moves to wrap around your throat, cupping tenderly before craning it to the side to press featherlight kisses along the exposed flesh. Your gasping soon evolves into more unabashedly vocal mewling, your body writhing as the vibrations frequency intensifies the more damage he takes. Tenko adding to the increasingly overwhelming contact by sucking marks into and nipping at your skin, his forearm tensing to push you into the slow rut of his hips. Reflexively grinding back against Tenko’s stiff length, trying to match the rhythm of his hips only to buck out of sync from the pleasuring shock that shoot up your spine. Toes already curling with the build of sweet release.

“T-Tenko,” you barely manage before he swallows your voice, slightly chapped lips sealing over your plush ones. Whimpering pathetically at the trace of his tongue along the seam before you grant him entrance, tasting one another with languid swipes. Muttering an even softer, “Tenko please.”

The pitch makes him groan, lids fluttering open but to only half mast as he pulls from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you. “Please, what?” But he doesn’t wait for an answer, pressing the swell of the controller firmly against your clit when it begins to vibrate violently once more. You almost want to scream, even if you did Tenko would be sure to greedily devour the gratifying sound as well. You grasp at his hoodie, the pillow next to you, reaching behind you to thread your fingers into the silky strands of his hair while the other holds Tenko’s wrist in a vice grip as you arch away from his chest. Chest heaving with labored breaths, the coil in your lower belly winding so tightly you can feel yourself on the cusp of your climax it’s almost maddening.

“Like that, please just like that,” pleading for more, chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your core, bucking into his hand and the controller he holds. The room feels suffocating the closer you get, the longer you teeter on the edge, only focusing on the vibrations to your clit and the slow steady rut of his hips behind you. The heavy length you feel against the swell of your ass, “I’m so close, fuck.”

You whimper his name when he moves his hand from your throat to flip up your skirt completely now, gripping at thick thighs as he silently spreads you open. Forcing your feet to plant on the mattress on the outer sides of Tenko’s knees, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck as he wastes little time dipping past the seam of your panties . Running his fingers through your wetness before teasing at your entrance, plunging into your embarrassingly soaked cunt with ease and finding a delicious pace with even less effort. Guiding you to rut up in tandem, however jerkily they may be, with every pump, you’ll be careening over the edge in no time, you can feel it. Almost taste it on the tip of your tongue, eyes rolling from pleasure as you breathily babble his name like a muddled mantra but he removes himself from you just as you’re ready to climax. The whine that escapes is pitiful, laden with disappointment as you collapse back against his chest and frustration and a tinge of embarrassment pinching the apples of your cheeks when you’re met with a mocking chuckle.

“S’pretty cute when you’re frustrated like that you know. Upset you didn’t get to cum baby?” His voice is taunting and it makes you feel pathetic when you nod with moist lashes clumped with unshed, frustrated tears and the kiss he presses to your temple does little to quell the lump the threatens to lodge in your throat, “you’re right though, that game is boring. I like this one better.”

Your confusion is evident, brows scrunched up cutely as you tilt and angle to give Tenko more access as he trails chaste kisses from your temple to your cheek and along your jawline, “what game?”

He’s silent as he affords you with tender affections, lips adoring your throat in a way that makes the tension bleed from your shoulders. Though he sends a shiver down your spine when he places one last kiss to the space behind your ear when he whispers his clarification. “The ‘how many times can I deny your orgasm before you start crying’ game.”

Tenko is mean alright, you had it pegged earlier, even in jest, so he fully intends to show you no matter how much you whine. You’re going to be Tenko’s favorite toy right now. A much more interesting sort of entertainment, handling you with a controlled hunger as he removes you from his lap, pulls your modest little skirt and panties away, tugs your asymmetrical sweater over your head and unclasps your bra for you to shrug away. Long fingers wrapping around your forearms just in case you try to hide the view from him as your breasts spill free, “So pretty.”

He moves to lay down next, guiding your body and arranging you until your cunt is hovering over his face, hot breath puffing against your puffy lips. His hands keep a firm grip on your hips when you tense after you’re settled to straddle his face. Knees sinking into the downy pillow beneath his head, given a modicum of leeway to sit backwards just enough to see Tenko’s face between your thighs and it does little to calm your nerves as a rush of arousal pools at your cunt at the sight.

“Ten I dunno,” voice trailing off without finishing the sentence, not wanting to admit you’ve never sat on anyone’s face before. He’s less than undeterred, however, doesn’t allow you enough time to remove yourself from him due to waning self-confidence before he’s leaning up and pressing a kiss to your puffy clit before lapping broad stripes along your drooling slit causing your fingers to shoot into his hair. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit while he laps at your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine and throughout every fiber of your being. The pleasure so encompassing you don’t notice you’re grinding against him until he groans against your core, reaching up to roll a pebbled nipple between his fingers. Unbuttoning his pants and freeing himself from increasingly tightening constraints, gripping his neglected cock and stroking himself while he slurps salaciously at your sticky heat.

Building you up quickly until your thighs tremble, completely at his mercy (or lack thereof) as pleas tumble from your lips in hushed tones. Each plead punctuated by an uneven roll of your hips against his tongue, stuttering in motion when he sucks cruelly at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so close you can almost taste it only for it to be ripped away again when his large hand holds you in place, “no fuck please Tenko! Please let me cum! I need it, baby please.”

He hears you, loud and clear despite how tightly your thighs spasm around his ears to muffle the outside world. Growling to himself about having to end his enjoying meal so quickly but you could cum on his face another time and as many times as you wanted but not now. Not yet, patting your thigh for your attention, “get up, you’re gonna’ cream on this cock or not at all.”

And you’re all too eager to comply, scrambling off of him and to the side, allowing Tenko to pull himself up and lean against his headboard. Swinging your leg over his hips before he’s even fully settled but he doesn’t mind. Chuckling before your arms loop around his shoulders, melding your lips with his as you straddle him.

You look so pretty like this, desperate for his cock and it shows when you part from the searing kiss with unshed tears clumping your lashes and glassy eyes from being edged for the last hour.

“I’ve got you,” purred with that alluring gravel to his voice as Tenko grasps his length between you both, running the leaky tip through your soaked slit, coating himself in your slick before positioning himself at your entrance. His free hand firmly holding your hip, applying pressure to sink you down on his length as if you needed the encouragement at all.

Crimson hues flitting between the way your lips fall open in a silent moan as your head lolls backwards and the way each inch disappears into your greedy cunt. He’s groaning already at the way you squeeze him, walls fluttering around his cock with pleasure at the sudden stretch, trembling slightly when he’s finally sunk you to the base. Wet heat slicking down the curly thatch to the skin of his pelvis when your hips twitch into his.

“Shit,” Tenko groans out, burying his face against your throat, tongue swiping over the hickies he’d decorated your flesh with earlier while his free hand presses you impossibly closer by the small of your back, “you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight, gonna make me cum already at this rate.”

You’re whining at the praise, his other hand at your hip helping you bounce on him at the pace you need. It’s so hot in his room now, the smell of sex filling your nostrils and beads of sweat slicking baby hairs to the skin of your face and nape of your neck. Nails raking along his shoulder blades as you chase the high you’d so callously been denied but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t heighten the experience now.

“Gonna cum baby? Go ahead, you can cum, I won’t stop you. Promise, promise I won’t stop you this time,” he sounds breathless himself, controlled pace steadily forgon in favor of pure instinct. Moving his head from your shoulder to loll against the headboard, a smile spreading on his features when you seize the opportunity to litter the alabaster skin of his throat in dark marks. ““m’close too, I’m gonna cum right there with you. You want that baby, want me to paint those pretty walls white?”

Tenko already knows the answer is a resounding yes, even before you nod emphatically. Nipping hungrily at his pronounced Adam’s apple when a pointed thrust into that spongy spot within you rips a throaty moan from you.

Every reaction you reward Tenko with is sinfully sweet, addicting in the worst of ways. You’ll be the death of him in more than just his forgotten game that somehow paused with the lost remote.

Tenko needs more from you now, everything you could possibly give and within another whispered ‘please Ten, so close’ he knows he’ll have it. Knows that he’ll do the same.

He’s panting, frenzied, more than beside himself while lost in the throngs of pleasure. Carried away now as one hand tenderly cups the juncture of your throat and his lips brush contrastingly tender kisses to the space below your ear. Gripping your hip as he pins you to the mattress in one swift motion, watching himself disappear into your divine heat once more before you pull him down to you. Clawing at his shoulder blades like the momentary distance was an utter betrayal and he hums against your lips, parting again but not nearly as far.

Just enough to look you in the eye, the tips of your noses almost brushing and warm breath fanning over flushed cheeks when he asks, “want me to breed you? Want me to fill you full until it sticks?”

Wholly aware of how deranged that comment is considering he’d just met you but he doesn’t care and by the way you keen so prettily you don’t seem to hate the idea either.

Far from.

Moaning out in pitched whines near bordering screams, silencing yourself sinking your teeth into the soft flesh and taut muscles of his trapezius. You can feel his release nearing, feel him twitching within your walls but he’s being generous; shoving his hand where your bodies meet and pressing his thumb to your swollen bud so at the very least you can experience sweet rapture first.

And you do, quickly.

It only takes a few hasty yet methodical circles before you finally, finally, finally climax, gasping for air and convulsing against him in a shuddering orgasm with his name on your tongue.

The intensity of your own high hurdles Tenko into his own demise, spilling his release into you seconds after yours racks through you and milking each jerking thrust he gives. It takes a moment before you both regain your bearings, labored breathing slowing into even drags with his softening cock still buried inside your warmth.

Lamenting the lost feeling of complete fullness when Tenko untangles himself from you to rise from bed. Sitting up after him, delightful daze doused by a metaphorical bucket of frigid water as you assume the worst when Tenko reaches for a clean rag from his nightstand to clean himself up.

Suddenly a little self-conscious as you lift your arm to cover your exposed breasts. Clenching your thighs when you kick them over the side of his bed at the warmth that seeps from your abused cunt. Already searching for your clothes thinking you’ll be told to leave soon.

Tenko frowns when you reach for your discarded garments, gently taking your hand as your fingers grasp at your abandoned sweater. Raising your hand while stroking himself erect once more, “we’ve still got time,” bending at the waist to be within your field of view before pulling you to stand with him. Tentative smile spreading on your lips as Tenko steps backwards and guides you to follow until he’s sat on the edge of Touya’s bed, pulling you to straddle him.

“I like to play games to completion,” the line is corny admittedly and it makes you giggle but that’s subconsciously what Tenko wanted. For you to relax once more because he truly has every intention of still being buried to the hilt in you when Dabi came back from class.

#vixen writes #tenko shimura x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tenko x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader

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goodboyyyy · 1 year

Text

Your phone dinged- it was an email from your college. You'd been waiting for it all summer- you'd been dying to know what dorm you'd be in and who your roommate would be.

You were super excited for college, to be around other smart people, especially since you were going to an Ivy League. You'd kind of been an nerd in high school, but thought that in college, brains might be appreciated over brawn. You'd imagined it a lot- being around other smart people who could actually have a discussion, instead of the homophobic idiots you went to school with, the dumb jocks you had to take classes with, all the dumbasses who cared more about football than books and things like that. You hated being around these idiots more and more every year. Even though you always wished you looked more built, you never let yourself work out or go to the gym. You didn't want to be anything like them.

Grinning, googled your roommates name excitedly and found an Instagram….

Your jaw dropped. This had to be a joke.

He looked just like every stupid muscle head jock you been trying to get away from! You, scrolled and scrolled, hoping your opinion would change, but every picture was just him at the gym, or faxing, or at some party scene like a beach. He was really hot, but you didn’t really want a hot roommate, you just wanted a cool roommate.

You sighed, closing your laptop. There was no sense stressing about it now. You couldn’t really tell how a person was from a picture, anyway. Maybe he was a cool guy who just happened to work out.

But then school started, and your roommate was worse than you imagined- an annoying, pompous jock who thought he knew everything. All he talked about was lifting, dumb motivational sayings, and partying. He wasn't actually dumb- but that just somehow made it worse. It just added to his smug, superior attitude knowing he wasn't a typical dumb jock- and he loved to hear himself talk, always went on and on about everything to show you how much he knew. He wasn't even that douchey- he was just annoying as hell, always thinking he knew more and better, always acting like this great person so people would think that about him. He was even hotter in person, until he opened his mouth at least and the dumbest shit you ever heard seemed to come out of it without fail every time. Now, every time he spoke, he rolled your eyes and automatically tuned him out. It was the only way you could bear having to room with him.

It was awful at first, but the year is going by pretty fast. Before you knew it, winter break was here you were busy packing the last few things to head home. Ironically, you were as excited about going home as you have been to arrive at college. You couldn’t wait to be by yourself, away from this idiot, and not have to hear him or hear about working out or anything like that for a couple of days. Suddenly, your phone dinged. You went to grab it, but your roommate was right next to it, so he passed it over to you. His eyebrows raised as he stared at the screen. “Shit, man.”

“What?” You said as you took the phone. It was a gmail notification.

FLIGHT CANCELLED.

Your stomach dropped. You were already leaving late because your last final had been on the last day the school was open, at the dorms and closed for break that night at midnight. You lived across the country.

“Fuck! What am I supposed to do now,” you said more to yourself and more out of frustration than to him. You didn’t even consider that his dumbass would have any ideas for you.

“Well, why don’t you come stay with me for a little while?”

You looked up at him, eyebrow raised and pretty surprised that he’d offer, till you remembered he was too dumb and clueless to realize how much you didn't like him. You wanted to tell him it was fine, no thanks… but you had no other options now, aside from maybe sleeping in the airport till the blizzard passed. That could be hours or even days, though

“You mean it?”

“Of course man! Look, I know we’re not like, best buds, or gym bros or anything like that, I’m not just gonna leave you stranded here. I’m heading out in like an hour. You can come stay at my place a night or two until you can figure out another flight.”

It wasn’t ideal, but like you’d already realized, you had no other choice right now. You packed the last of your things and put them in his car. The snow was already starting when you left, and came down harder and harder as you drove the 20 or 30 minutes over to his house. You were kind of scared sometimes, but he was actually a really good driver. Anytime this car slid or skidded even a little, it was like he knew exactly what to do to get it back on track. His big muscular arm bulged now and then as he gripped the steering wheel tight when the Jeep had fishtailed briefly a few times, and you caught yourself staring at it a little too long more than once. It was honestly really impressive to watch, you would’ve been freaking out if the car skidded at all like that, but he stayed totally calm. Maybe he did know a thing or two after all.

He already texted his parents and explanation of why you were coming, so they had a plate the food ready for you when you arrived. You weren’t that surprised to see the rest of his family was kind of like him. He had a brother who was like a little jock in training, and a Dad who was like a veteran jock. The conversation was pretty similar to what you’d expected – nothing really substantial, with each of them nodding dumbly every time one of them said something equally dumb.

Once dinner was done you headed upstairs with him.

"So, there's a guest room, but there's also a bed in my room that used to be my brothers. I think you should sleep in that one. It'll be a lot more comfortable."

"I dunno-"

"C'mon man! It'll be just like at school! Plus, there's a bathroom in there. Otherwise you have to share with the rest of my family," he said with a big dumb grin. You sighed. He was just so oblivious, but he had saved your ass letting you stay here, and you didn't want to be rude.

"Alright, fine," you said, heading into his room with him. You saw a picture of him and his brother on his dresser. They were identical. A gold chain necklace was draped over the frame.

"You guys were twins?"

"Yeah..."

"Where did he go?" you asked.

He shrugged. "Fell in love with some girl from another country. Out of the blue, he told us he was moving there with her. Had a big fight with me and my parents over it, and hasn't talked to anyone since. It really sucks. He was my main gym bro."

"Ah, that sucks," you said, not sure of what to say.

"Anyway, lets get to bed," he said, sliding his shirt and pants off. It was a shame he was so dumb, because you would have thought he was so sexy otherwise. He'd been right though- this bed was really comfy. You drifted off to sleep after a few moments, exhausted from packing.

He slid out of bed, opened the closet, and pulled a pair of his brother's old gym shoes out. They were so rank he could smell them from a couple feet away. He slid them under your bed quietly and stepped back, watching the smell seep into you. Your nose wrinkled at first, but he smiled when you started to draw slow, deep inhales of the scent. Then, he pulled his sweaty gym clothes out from earlier, wringing them out into a cologne bottle he left on the bathroom counter.

"Night night, future gym bro," he said, getting back under his covers.

You woke up the next morning feeling groggy and lethargic. When you opened your eyes, you saw him in the bathroom with the door open, doing the same morning routine he did at school. The thing was, you never really saw him do it that much, because you always avoided using the bathroom when he was in there, otherwise he'd start talking your ear off. He was washing his face. His thick muscles shifted with every slight movement. You knew he was showing off, but fuck was he sexy. It was early and you were still pretty groggy and horny and half-asleep, so much so that you found yourself staring at him, unable to look away. You felt like an asshole, suddenly. He'd invited you here in an emergency, and you'd been rude and judgmental the whole time. His chiseled abs contracted as he bent over the sink and scrubbed his face.

He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned over to you. "Hey man," he said, "Yo. c'mere. You gotta smell this cologne I just got."

You rolled your eyes, but instead of being annoyed, you smiled. He was so cute, in a dumb way. You got up and walked into the bathroom, pulling your boner into your pants elastic so he wouldn't see it. It was good you did, because you felt your cock surge as he raised his arms and sprayed the cologne into his muscular pits.

His biceps peaked as he did. He looked like a model. And the cologne smelled amazing. He noticed you watching him flex and smirked. "You like those, huh? Haha," he said with a laugh.

"Uh- yeah man, really cut... ha ha" you said, trying to play it cool.

"We could get your like that I think," he said, gripping your tiny arms with his big hands.

"Haha, no thanks," you said, stepping back. Still, the scent of the cologne drifted over to you. You had to admit, it smelled pretty good. Kind of familiar, too.

"C'mon man, why not?"

"The gym really isn't my thing."

"Have you ever even been?" he asked, giving his pits another blast of cologne.

"No. Just really not my thing," you said. You got another huge whiff of the cologne just as you turned away from the door. You stopped suddenly. Damn, it smelled good- like it was getting better and better by the second. You took a deep whiff. You didn't want to walk away from it.

"Yo, what brand is that?"

"It's an off brand," he said, "i dunno really."

"Can I try some?" you said, taking another deep inhale. The smell was invigorating. It made you feel like you were bursting with energy- energy you needed to release.

He smirked. "If you come to the gym with me, maybe."

You were about to say no, but you really, really wanted to try that cologne. Plus, you had so much energy now, you needed some way to burn it off. And what else would you do all day? Sit around with his weird family?

"Ok, fine," you said, "But I'm just doing the treadmill though. Maybe an eliptical."

He shrugged. "Everyone's gotta start somewhere. What matters is, we're finally gym bros dude!"

"I don't know about all that," you said with a laugh, going to put your shoes on. He was so dumb and easily pleased. Like, who gave a shit if you went to the gym with him or not? Why did it matter so much?

You frowned down as you tried to put your shoes on. For some reason, they seemed smaller. You could barley fit them on, like your foot had grown overnight or something.

"Hey man, i got you," he said, reaching under his brothers bed. He pulled a pair of gym shoes out for you. "These should fit."

You picked them up. They smelled familiar and nice, kind of like the cologne. You were really excited to wear them for some reason, and after you put them on, you felt even better about your decision to go to the gym. You rocked your legs back and forth, bursting with energy. "You ready dude?" you said.

"Lets get it," he said nodding you out the door. "Oh wait. Almost forgot." He reached into his bag and tossed the bottle of cologne over to you. "All yours, man," he said with a grin.

"Thanks bruh," you said, spraying a thick coating under your arms. You wondered why you were talking like that, but as the cologne filled your nose, the thought faded away.

You'd stayed on the treadmill for a while at first, but even there, you were shocked at how fast you could run without getting tired. His brother's old gym shoes were so broken in and cushioned that it felt like you were running on air. But you'd been watching him while he lifted, watching him while the cologne you drenched yourself in seeped into your nose. Running wasn't enough. You needed something to release more energy. You headed over to him, asking if you could join.

"Letssss gooooo, man!" he yelled excitedly, pulling you in for a bro hug. He was drenched in sweat that got all over your clothes. "Here, hit some curls with me," he'd said, handing you a dumbbell. It felt weird but... right in your hand, like you'd finally undergone some masculine right of passage you'd been putting off. You lifted it, but with terrible form.

"Nah man, like this," he said, springing up, and before you knew it he was behind you, his big frame dwarfing yours, and gripped your hands with his own, pushing them up into a proper curl.

"See man? Just like this. Up.... and down," he said slowly into your ear.

He did it a couple times. It felt nice, having him show you. He was a real nice guy, you thought, feeling his hands gripping you own. Your eyes started to glaze over- but when he left go, you immediately started overcompensating with your back. In a flash, he was behind you again.

"Nah bro. You're thinking too much," he said slowly. "Stop. Thinking." he said, gripping your hands again. You were about to tell him to fuck off, but the thought faded away suddenly as his skin touched yours. All your thoughts did, Your head became an empty vacuum.

"Up," he said slowly into your ear, lifting your arms.

Up. Yes. Up. The single directive rushed in to fill the entirety of your empty mind. Up. Up. Up.

He lowered them slowly, maintaining the tension. "And Down."

And Down. Yes. The other two words entered your brain, filling any gaps missed by Up. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.

"Up. And Down.," he said in your ear. "That's all that matters. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down."

Your lips began to say the words slowly, matching your movements. Your eyes became totally glazed, and this time, when he let go, you didn't stop. You kept moving with the perfect form he'd just programed into you while he picked up his own dumbbells and lifted next to you moving in sync... it felt so.. nice... moving up...and down....up... and down...

You hadn't remembered much more after that till you were both in the locker room, drenched in sweat after a full workout.

"Great job, man," he said, pulling you in for a high-five hug again. Your sweaty bodies and pumped muscles rubbed against each other in the exchange.

"Thanks bro," you said, still invigorated from the workout. It felt fuckin great. And he'd been so great, showing you proper form for every move, correcting you, adjusting the weight for you. As you both left, you once again felt like an ass for being so rude to him all these months...

When you got home and showered, you felt something itchy under your arms. Checking it out, you noticed your pit hair had gotten a lot darker and thicker. You shrugged. You were almost a year younger than most of your classmates with the way your birthday fell. It must've been the final strokes of puberty, or something.

You headed into your roommate's room for bed. He was propped up in bed in just his underwear, massaging himself with a theragun, nearly moaning. You laughed as you looked at him. He smirked, realizing how funny it looked.

"Laugh all you want, dude, but if you tried it, you'd feel the same way."

"Lemme try then. I'm pretty sore from today already. I still can't believe you convinced me to do weights."

"Haha. I knew you had it in you bro," he said, walking over to you with the theragun. "Aren't you glad you did?"

"Yeah," you said honestly. It had actually felt surprisingly good.

"Letssss gooooo, man!" he yelled excitedly, pulling you in for a bro hug. "Good shit bro. The treadmill is for pussies. You gotta pump these guns, otherwise you're wasting time."

You were about to argue when the theragun hit your sore tricep. The thought slowly faded away as bursts of pleasure rippled out from your muscles. You fell onto the bed, overwhelmed by the feeling, but he kept the gun on you steadily the whole time, watching you squirm and moan. It didn't just feel like a massage, it felt like a whole other workout. You felt the blood pumping into your arms, felt them getting warmer as they bulged and swelled. It felt incredible. He moved around to your bicep, then shoulders, then upper back. He lifted your arms to get underneath them, and you thought you saw his eyes linger on your hairy pits, smiling at them, but you were too preoccupied to think about it. You weren't sure how long he kept at it, but by time he was done, you felt amazing.

"Woah, thanks brah."

"Anytime. Why don't you wash up? We gotta be up early to hit the gym."

"For sure bro," you said, standing up and heading to the bathroom. Yeah, you'd hit the gym again tomorrow. It wasn't even a question, really.

Your eyes widened as you stared in the mirror. You arms looked huge! They hadn't looked this big when you'd gotten out of the shower.

He noticed you admiring them. "It's the theragun, and the uh.... the hot shower. Gets the blood pumped into them. It'll probably be gone in the morning," he said.

"Oh...makes sense," you said, brushing your teeth and sliding into bed.

Once he heard you snoring, he slipped out of bed and grabbed his shaving cream, heading into the bathroom. He whipped his thick cock out and stared at a couple of bimbos getting fucked on his phone, shooting a hot, huge load right into the cream. He swirled it around with his finger, mixing it, then dabbed a bit onto his hand as he headed over to you. He gently spread it over your face, smearing the extra under your pits. Smiling, he went to bed.

You woke up the next day feeling sore and... itchy. You thought it was the pillow, but no matter how you moved, the feeling never went away. Blinking, you scratched at your face, where the feeling was coming from. Your hand met a rough surface. You felt around your face until you realized it was... stubble? But you'd only really had that above your lips. You felt more and more, but it was definitely there.

He looked over to the bathroom. He was up already, shaving in the mirror. He caught your eye again “Hey man. Sleep good?“

“Yeah man, but it looks like some of my facial hair came in overnight or something. It's all itchy.”

You scratched it again, but then thought another itchy, feeling coming out from under your arm. Lifting your arm, you noticed that your pit hair looked even thicker and darker than the night before. And despite what he said about the Theragun and shower, your arms still looked huge. You stare at your body, confused. That late puberty really was hitting you like a train.

"Hey bro, that’s just what happens when you get that testosterone pumping. Come here, I’ll take care of that for you. Just let me finish up.“

You approached as he lifted his chin, showing off his thick neck and sliding his shaver across it. It was strange to watch. You were the same age, and he looked so natural doing it, but it was something you'd never done before. You never had enough facial hair to.

He turned to you, lifting your chin up with one finger, inspecting your stubble. He looked pleased for some reason. He grabbed a jar of shaving cream and opened it- but he hadn't used any? With his razor, he could shave dry, so why-

He smeared the shaving cream on your face, and the cool, minty feeling wiped the question from your mind. Your eyes drooped to his beefy pecs and six pack in front of you as he moved the razor softly over your skin. "You just go nice and slow, just like this," he said, shaving you delicately. Your heart beat faster. It felt weirdly... intimate. You guessed this was something Dad's or older brothers showed youhow to do, but you hadn't had one. You watched intently, trying not to shudder where his fingers grazed your skin. What was weird was, even as the razor removed the hair, it seemed to leave more stubble behind.. but... you liked it. You almost looked... hot. He kept going, till you had a thick 5 o clock shadow just like his.

"I'll let you finish up," he said, sliding you the shaved and shaving cream. "You should shave your pits too, brah. Makes lifting easier. Less irritation."

"Sounds good man," you said, smearing a thick coating of shaving cream onto your hairy pits. It tingled like before. Just like with your face, even though it removed the hair, it seemed to leave more hair follicles behind. You squinted at it. Probably just a trick of the light.

"Ready to hit the gym again?"

"Hell yeah," you said. "But I just have to check flights first-"

"Ah, you know, I was gonna check for you earlier, but our Wifi was acting up."

"That's cool. I can just check on my phone."

"Alright. But just get dressed first," he said, handing you his brothers shoes again.

You were going to tell him to just wait, but the sight of the shoes got you excited. You'd felt really good wearing them.

"Alright," you said, taking them and eagerly sliding them on. The second you tied them, you stood up, pumping your legs one after another. You felt ready to go!

"Oh. and don't forget the cologne. You don't wanna smell like sweat, ya know," he said with a laugh as he tossed you the bottle. It excited you, just like the shoes. You sprayed about ten or eleven sprays on you, letting the scent fill your nose. It smelled even better than the day before. You felt filled with energy, invigorated again, like you needed to get out and release it. But first you just had to... had.... to... look... at...... you................had................to..........look..........at......f....???

"Yo, was I gonna do something man?" you asked, brow hunching in the same confused, dumb way his usually did.

"Yeah. You were gonna wear my gym clothes since you don't have your own. You just asked like a minute ago, man, haha. Remember?"

"Ah, my bad," you said laughing. You'd really zoned out there, haha. You threw on the muscle tee and thigh shorts he tossed you. They must've been from a three pack or something, because he put on the same exact ones.

"Lets get it, brah," he said, slapping you on the back.

"Lets gooo!" you said back, and you guys headed out.

It was the same as the day before. You were doing shoulder presses awfully at first, feeling awkward and self concious, but then his hands were under your arms and his voice was in your ear.

"Up and down, bro. Up and down. That's all that matters. Let all those other thoughts, other things you know about go. They're just weighing you down. You only need to know three things, bro."

You nodded, eyes glazing over again. "Up. And Down," you said, pressing the weight overhead cleanly. "Up. And Down," you repated, sinking into a smooth rhythm of presses. He stood next to you again, lifting at the same time as you. You felt yourself sweating all your thoughts out, getting dumber by the second. You knew you should stop but- buuu- u- up....

Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.

He took you through a bunch of other exercises, reminding you whenever he saw you lose focus. Up. And Down. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.

You both got home an hour or two later, still panting and dripping with sweat from your lifts.

"That was sick, bro," he said, peeling his wet shirt off and bouncing his pecs in the mirror.

"Yeah, I feel great," you said, starting to peel the muscle tee off. It was tight, even before your pump, like it had been clinging to you throughout your workout, warming your chest. Now, it was tight because your chest seemed a lot bigger.

"Chest day best day!" He inhaled deeply. "Ah, you smell that bro? I missed that smell. When me and my twin would get back from the gym, this room would stink up in like 30 seconds and reek for days. Its been a while."

"Damn, it does reek in here," you said with a dumb laugh.

"Breathe it in. That's the smell of hard work, bruh."

You both took a deep inhale, laughing. It was so good having a friend to be a stupid guy with.

"Yeah, man," you said, finally managing to peel the shirt off. Your chest looked huge, wide, and puffy. Almost exactly like his... that was... weird....but they looked so... so... good... just like your shoulders you'd hit that day... and your back.... your lats looked like... like wings... wings..... flight.... wasn't there something you were supposed to do with a fligh-

You let out a gasp that turned into an "ahhhhhh" as he hit your sore muscles with the theragun. Part of you was realizing what was happening. You were still smart- somewhere in there. You were... you were somehow turning into him, literally. You tried to think about how, but it hurt. All the blood your brain was used to was flowing into your shoulders and chest as he massaged them. Thinking felt... bad... but... what was in the mirror looked... good.... yeah. You looked fucking good, like this. Yo.... you looked so good haha. Thinking.... bad.... lifting.... good... blood in... muscles.... not in.... brain.... lift.... more... get... sexier.

You felt energy surge through you again. Instinctually, you flexed in the mirror the way he did in the morning, grunting and scrunching your face. Toned muscle bulged under your skin as more and more blood and oxygen left your brain and poured into your muscles. You looked big, but you still felt small. You needed to get bigger... it felt.... urgent... like any time you spent not working out was time wasted. Your thoughts faded as he moved the theragun over you and your chest. It almost was like an exact replica of his.

Your eyes moved to him.

Gym.... bro.... love my.... gym.... bro.... love my..... bro.... wanna.... workout.... with my... bro

"Yo, it's still pretty early bro. You think we could lift again tonight, after dinner?"

"That's what I'm talkin about man," he said, slapping you on the back. "Love seeing you finally motivated to get in the gym and work on yourself."

"Feels great, dude," you said, hitting another pose in the mirror, staring at your muscles. Bigger.... need to.... get.... bigger...

"I told ya so."

"I know. I should've listened earlier. You're so smart, man."

"Haha, thanks man. Lets go get our protein in so we can get out there again. I'll go make our shakes. You shower first man- you stink," he said with a laugh.

"Haha," you said, lifting your pit and taking a big whiff of it. You did reek, but it smelled good, in a way. Like a sign of your hard work.

"Damn bro. I'm gonna need a gas mask in here," he joked, laughing as he walked out.

You laughed back. Joking with your bro was the best. You got into the shower, feeling all the new muscle in your body move under your skin. Feeling its power. The hot water just exacerbated it. You felt big- strong- but needed to get bigger- stronger- the thought was constant.

But- this wasn't... you?

You didn't... care about this stuff.

No.

This was all wrong. What were you doing lifting, focusing on superficial shit like this? What were you doing hanging around with this idiot? No- you had to get out of here. You'd be polite to him, but as soon as you got out of the shower, you'd book a flight for the next day. Enough of this! You'd been getting swayed by a pretty boy being nice to you, and it needed to stop.

He came in with the protein shakes just as you got out of the shower.

"Here you go man," he said, handing it to you. "Gave you a little extra," he said with a wink. Your glass had a little more in it than his did.

"Thanks dude," you said, putting it down. Fuck him and his protein shakes! "I'll have it in a minute. I just remembered I need to look up flights."

"You should really drink it first," he said, handing it back to you. "It's best to drink it as soon as possible. You don't wanna stay small, do you?"

Small? Small? No- never small- big- need to be big- big- huge- need- protein-

"Fuck no," you said suddenly, and before you could stop yourself you were grabbing it and gulping it down. It tasted good. Creamy. Really creamy.

"Damn that's good," you said, cheersing with him when he finished his. It was like you could feel the protein seeping through your body, repairing you. It felt so good. You felt confused, though.

"Yo, was I about to do something?" you asked.

"Yeah man. We were gonna do our meal preps for the rest of break. I'm so glad you decided to spend break here to focus on working out instead of going home with your family," he said.

"Huh? No, no, something with my phone..."

"Yeah man, remember? You were gonna tell your family you weren't gonna make it home this year. You really wanted to see them, but you didn't wanna waste a whole month away from your gym bro when you could be learning from me & making gains. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah yeah," you said. That made sense. Why else would you be here "Hell yeah man! Three solid weeks of nothing but lifting with my bro. No stupid classes or reading to distract us from what matters."

"Exactly man," he said, "C'mon, lets go make our meals for the week. Chicken broccoli and rice city!" You did, then headed to the gym.

You did legs this time.

"Just remember," he said as you got under the squat rack.

You nodded vacantly, feeling your mind slowly emptying again of everything except those three words. Up. And Down. Up. And Down.... Up ... And.... Down....

The next thing you knew you were grunting and dripping sweat as you boosted the 6 plates on your last rep up. Your legs were throbbing, bulging, and felt amazing. They looked bigger already, and you'd only done 4 sets of one exercise. He nodded approvingly.

You both got back from the 2nd round at the gym a couple hours later, scarfing your meals down out of your microwavable meal prep trays.

"Yo, did you see all those pussies on the treadmill staring at us?" you laughed.

"Of course man," he said, laughing back. "That's all they can do," he said as he flexed his huge, pumped muscles. "Stare and wish they were us."

"Feels good," you said, scarfing down your food. Both of you ate like pigs, spilling rice and shredded chicken all over your laps and the sides of your mouths. He went to get your protein shakes, and came back a few minutes later, once again with yours a little bit more full and creamy than his. Extra supps, he told you. When you were done, you cracked open the six pack his Dad had bought for you guys and started slamming them down while watching Family Guy, both laughing dumbly every couple minutes at it. You used to hate this show... but it was so funny! You'd just never given it a chance.

About 2 hours later, with empty beer cans strewn all around the room, you guys decided to get to bed. He went into the bathroom first, brushing his teeth and whipping his dick out to take a long, hot piss in the toilet. His eyes flickered over to your toothbrush, and he smiled. Grabbing it, he dropped it in front of his stream of piss, making sure to soak it thoroughly before putting it back in the holder.

You came in once he was done and started brushing your teeth. Your toothbrush felt warm and tasted kind of funny, thank you, fuck it. You instinctually swallowed it as the taste hit your tongue, sucking it deep in to your stomach. It felt like your stomach was rumbling, then tightening, then pushing out, then tightening again. When you were done brushing your teeth, you lifted your shirt up to reveal a nice set of toned abs just like his. You smiled. Damn, he was a really good coach.

You stared into the mirror, reflecting on how much you'd changed over the last few days. You smiled dumbly, hitting pose after pose in the mirror. In pretty much everything but your face, you looked just like him now. Your arms were thick and corded, your pecs sat nice and high, your legs were ripped, stomach shredded. Even your feet had gotten bigger, going from a size 8 to a size 13, just like his, and you'd grown a few inches, too. Wait... taller? You didn't get taller from the gym...

...

...and why were you his exact height?

You threw open the bathroom door.

"Yo, what's going on here?"

"What do you mean, bro? Chill."

"Nah man. Are you like, turning me into you or some shit? This isn't cool, bro," you said, struggling to talk like how you used to, before "bro" and "man" and "bruh" were every other word?

He smiled. "Into me? Of course not. You could never be me. But I am making you into my twin brother, bro. Haha."

"Well it stops now, weirdo. I'm outta her-"

He grabbed your arms, pulling them towards your head, forcing you to flex. You let out a moan as blood pumped out of your brain, into your sore muscles. It felt so good. So warm... so.... relaxing. But, no, you had to leave – he turned you towards the mirror, showing you your reflection as you flexed. You gave a dumb smile at the hunk staring back at you, at all your hard work- no, he wasn’t gonna get you like this again---

"Just look at yourself, bro," he said slowly massaging your thick traps. Waves of heat flowed over you- no– you had to- leave. He bent down, lifting your leg onto the ball of your foot. Your thick calf muscles contracted, stealing more blood from your brain, pumping more down into your body. It felt so good after a long workout. So good. So waaaaarm, you thought while he bent you into pose after pose like his mannequin and you stared in awe at what you'd become. You were.... hot.

"You’re telling me you don’t like this, bro? That you'd rather be a little nerdy bitch like before?"

It– it felt so… Good... you looked so… Good... you look like… Someone you would’ve thirsted after for months before .. you... loved it. It felt good. Before you knew it, he'd taken his brother's chain off the dresser and fastened it around your neck.

Your mind instantly blanked as he did it. What the fuck were you thinking? Leaving? When he was fucking turning you into a god for free? What kinda ungrateful piece of shit loser was the old you? Nah, he wanted nothing to do with that shit. You were lucky to be here.

"I was gonna wait until we were done to do this to you, but since that nerd in you has so much fight apparently, we can just get it over with now. It doesn’t really matter," he said.

"You want to act like a fag? I’ll treat you like a fag, boy," he said grabbing your head and rubbing it against his bulge. His big. Warm.. bulge... Your eyes glazed even more. "That's right, broski. Tell me how you really feel."

He was fucking sexy. You tried to lie to yourself all year and tell yourself that you didn’t like him, that he was annoying, that he was an idiot. But still, you stared at him whenever you could, every time he'd come into the room with his towel... take a peek every time he was in his boxers. Pretended you didn’t like him and denied it. But you did. You hated the girls that he brought back to the room because you wished it was you in there, getting pounded out by him, or maybe you wished you were him, getting to be such a stupid fucking asshole and still getting all the ass you wanted. He must’ve felt like a king.

You suddenly realize'd that you said all this out loud. Your mouth dropped open in surprise- but- how...

"Good, good. Now tell me, wouldn’t it feel nice if someone felt that way about you, boy?" Your eyes lit up.

"Me?"

"Yeah you. You’re going to be a God just like me boy. And I get the gym bro! Everyone wins."

You nodded slowly as he pulled his cock out, rubbing it against your face. Yeaaaaaah. Jock cock. You'd always loved jock cock when you'd been.... gay? No, you weren't gay... you'd never been gay. This was just bonding with your bro, haha.

Your tongue lapped up the precum off the tip of his dick. He shuddered, his cut, muscular hips thrusting instinctually. Your mouth opened just as automatically, sucking his cock. It felt so easy to hold yourself up with your new, big muscles as he pounded your mouth. His balls slipped out of his boxers, slapping you in the face as he thrust into you. They smelled great.

"Ahhhhhh yeah," he said, grabbing your hand and placing it on his tight ass. You gripped it, feeling the power from years of squats in it. "We got one more step left, broski. Tomorrow we're gonna put my facecream and gel on you and fix that busted face and wack haircut of yours. You’ll look just like me, bro. And you'll love it. I want that nerd inside of you watching while I snuff the last of him out- well, while you do it, really. He'd hate you so much, now," he said, pulling you off his dick and turning you towards the mirror again. "Look at you now, just a dumb jock big boy."

You smiled goofily in the mirror, flexing again at the sight of yourself. "Dumb jock big boy". The words resonated in your brain. Yeah, dumb jock big boy you thought, flexing harder. Hahaha. No- you weren't a jo- dumb jock big boy. Hahahaha. Yeah, you were just a dumb jock big boy- no- no- you were smar... just a dumb jock big boy. No matter what else you tried to think, it was the only thing your mind would land on. You flexed even more. You couldn't help it. Your body looked... so.... fucking... good. You felt like a ... man. Brutish. Powerful. You had muscles... big... muscles.... you couldn't stop staring... you fely so... powerful... needed... more powee. Needed... to get bigger. Needed... to be a msn not a cyck beta loser.

"That's it. Who's my dumb jock bro?"

"Me," you said proudly.

"I thought you were too good for that shit tho? Too smart?"

"Nah," you said.

"Damn boy, I trained you good."

"Yes. Showed me what matters. Need to get bigger," you said in a trance. Any resistance felt far away now. You couldn't really talk in complete sentences anymore. "Bigger. Stronger. More powerful."

"We will get you there, bro," he said, sliding your mouth back onto his cock. We're going to get you there, together. Plus, then we can be reeeeaaal bros! Like, bros for real. We can tell my parents my bro came back. You can just enroll in school and come back with me. It'll be like he never left. And you actually get to be something, instead of being a dumb nerd. Everyone wins!"

You nodded. Real bros. He was like your brother already, kinda. Yeah.

"I love you bro," you said.

"I love you to bro- ahhh- AHhhhhhh"

You felt his legs tense and back arch a little, and a blast of his cum shot down your throat, then another, then another. The necklace got hot around your neck as you swallowed them. You gulped each down, feeling your body absorbing them, feeling him seep into you, take you over, and crush any chance you had of turning back. Yeah. Good. You didn't want to turn back. You didn't want the nerd loser in you to take control. This was you now. You were in control.

He thrust into you a couple more times as you licked the last of his cum off his cock. He tapped the back of your head twice approvingly as you finished him off and slid his cock out of your mouth.

"See you in the morning, bro. You won't remember this part tomorrow. You'll just wake up, see my putting my moisturizer on and gel in, and come to do the same. Like I said, I want that nerd inside you watching while we complete your transformation, wanting to stop it, but unable to. Because this," he said, placing your hand on his bicep, and placing your other hand on your own bicep, "just feels too good."

You nodded dumbly. "I love you, bro" was all you could say.

"Love you too, bro. Goodnight!"

You woke up the next morning, just as he said, to see him putting the moisturizer all over his face and styling his hair. You walked over, asking him if you could use some. He looked so good. You just really wanted to use whatever he used.

"Sure thing, bro. What's mine is yours."

He passed it to you. You took a thick glob out, smearing it on your face. It tingles a little bit as you put it on, like the shaving cream head. Part of you was yelling, no, that you didn't like this, that you wanted to keep your old life, that you didn't want to be his twin and give up everything you had, but that voice was quiet now. It was drowned out by the demands of your big, hulking body, your shrinking brain, the testosterone pumping through you, and the burning desire you know how to get bigger and look good, constantly. The old you needed to go. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't stop you from rubbing the cream in deeper and deeper. Had... to... look.... good... you thought as you ran a big glob of his white gel through your hair.

You both watched, smiling, as your face bubbled and changed and your hair lightened and shortened, perfectly matching his, erasing the final part of you. His brothers Your chain got hot around your neck as a bunch of his brother's your old memories floated into your head. All the details of his your life, everything you needed to know to convince his your parents that he'd you'd come back home.

"It's so great to have you back, bro," your roommate brother said. "I been so lonely at the gym," he said flexing in the mirror.

"Good to be back, bro," you said, hitting the same pose.

His real brother never did end up coming back. You lived happily ever after as a dumb jock big boy, hitting the gym with your bro everyday.

#gay sub #gay domination #gay mind control #gay dad and son #gay submission #good boy #muscle daddy #submission #alpha worship #mind control gay #mind control #jock worship #jockification #jock transformation

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loveundrwrld · 2 months

Note

omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe

also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33

how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!

i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.

thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is

---

yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader

(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)

tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.

the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.

but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.

... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.

and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.

he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.

but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.

except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.

good lord, what the hell happened to you?

"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.

he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.

and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."

you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.

tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.

he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.

he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.

there was one thing he could try...

---

it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.

though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.

the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.

from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.

"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.

since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.

you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?

he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.

"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"

you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.

he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.

"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.

for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.

you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.

"... got it," he said, breathily.

though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #tanner whitlock #male reader #i think tbh that this dynamic could be very interesting since tanner would have to rethink his strategy towards courting his darling #his instinct would usually have him want to act as a protector figure since he thinks strength is what he can bring to a relationship #but if his darling clearly is stronger/more dangerous he'll probably feel the need to switch things up quite a bit #though he’s still going to be whiny and desperate ala this scenario lol

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spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 5: To Atomize

summary: nathan leaves his house to tell you he loves you.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, mentions of sick/dying parent, pining, dom/sub dynamics, mid love confessions, oral (m + f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, squirting, NATHAN’S SO IN LOVE AND SIMPY AND FREE

wc: 6,138

an: we've sadly reached the end of the main story. thank you thank you for all the support on this fic. a girl watches ex machina once and suddenly is writing 20+k for an asshole simp. i do plan to write the extras fairly quickly (the next month or so) and they'll vary in length. i hope y'all stick around for more of them.

You and Nathan are doing work out on the couch, your legs thrown over his. It’s all very domestic, something the both of you could get used to.

He doesn’t look up when he asks, “That date out— do you still want it?”

“I do but honestly, I don’t think it’s realistic. You like being out here, Emma and Phillipa shouldn’t be at home by themselves for so long— not to mention my mom.”

“You don’t talk about your mom,” He observes, his eyes rising from his laptop to look at you.

You continue your work as you talk, “There’s too much to talk about. And nothing at all.”

“And the vagueness returns,” There’s more bite in his voice than he wants there to be, but he can’t help it.

You notice immediately— going rigid like stone before you fix him with an empty gaze. “She’s dying. She can’t work. She sleeps most days. In the mornings before I come here, I read to her and when I get home I tell her I love her and kiss her goodnight. Is that specific enough for you, Mr. Bateman?”

Nathan just looks at you, his eyes for once, void of any emotion to tell you how he’s feeling. Nathan 3 months ago would have stormed away, or said something snarky. But, he just keeps looking at you. The silence makes you uncomfortable and your words replay in your mind over and over, guilt building each time. Your mother’s a tender subject, but Nathan is…more than anyone has ever been to you despite not making that clear to him. You open your mouth to apologize but he shushes, closing his laptop and then yours before he pulls you into his lap and holds you close.

He kisses at your temple, your forehead, your cheek, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

It shouldn’t catch you off guard, his affection and tenderness but it does. You melt into him even as your walls go up inside. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, honey. It’s not. Can you tell me what—“

“Cancer. Off and on since I was in high school.”

“You’ve been taking care of your sisters off and on since they were born?”

You shrug. It was true. In the moment, when you and your mother had made those decisions together— your father wishing and washing his way in and out of your lives whenever he felt like— they hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But, Nathan’s tone can’t help but make you realize how much you’d missed out on because of your duty to your family.

“Shit, honey.”

“It’s alright, Nathan,” You breathe. It’s not, it’s never been okay, but you’ve been telling yourself that for as long as you can remember.

“It’s not. You’re a good fucking woman. You and your family deserve better.”

“They do deserve better. My sisters don’t have a time remembering her like I do. Before she got sick. That’s fucked up isn’t it?”

“Yeah, baby, it is.” His hold on your tightens, a hand smoothing up and down your back. “Let me take you out for one night.”

“Nathan, I just said—“

He takes your jaw into his hands, intentional yet gentle with his grip as he guides you to look at him. Those big brown eyes are warm but firm. “We’ll do it in the city. I’ll pick you up from your apartment, you’ll be a phone call away. I’ll bring you home first thing in the morning. C’mon baby, you deserve a break. Let me give it to you.”

—

You agree to Nathan’s advances, like you always do these days. This date takes a lot of coordinating— but somehow it all turned out in your favor. Nathan jokes that it’s because of his god-like will. You’re just happy to take the breather when it’s presented to you. Emma gets invited to her first sleepover, Phillipa’s school is having a lock in. Somehow, Nathan had convinced you to accept him paying for one day of round the clock care for your mother so her usual nurse, Celia, could have a day off too.

You’re realizing that maybe you’re just as gone for him as he is for you. That you believe what he’s said about the depths of his feelings for you and maybe, you’re ready to take the next step and allow yourself to feel them openly for him too. How quickly the tide turns. How quickly Nathan had put in the effort to show how badly he wanted this— you. 3 months ago you could say with sincere surety that you did not like Nathan Bateman. And now…well you were sure you couldn’t deny loving him.

He tells you to dress formally— it lands you in your favorite black dress, the one that always gives you a boost of confidence and makes you feel good. You’re going to need if your racing thoughts about how your feelings have deepened are any indicator for how the evening will go. And maybe, once or twice, you’ve imagined Nathan peeling you out of it when your fingers slipped beneath your waistband late at night.

When you open the door, Nathan’s in a crisp white button down and slacks, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders— your knees nearly give out. So do his.

“Fuck me,” He breathes.

“My neighbors can hear you,” You remind him breathlessly, your face hot as his eyes slowly trace your figure.

“They should be lucky we’re not staying here or they’d hear a hell of a lot more. Fuck. You look incredible, baby.”

“My eyes are up here.”

“I’ve seen enough of those.”

“Nathan.”

“Can you fucking blame me? You walk out here in this tight little dress, one I imagine will stay on until after dinner, which is a fucking sin if you ask me. I’m giving commotion for the dress honey, it is what it is. Come here,” He reaches for you, snaking his arm around your waist so he can kiss you thoroughly. When he breaks the kiss he whispers, “Hi.”

Some of your nerves dissipate at his clear attraction to you, his sweetness. You smile against his mouth, bumping his nose with your own. “Hi. You look so handsome.”

“Thank you,” He murmurs, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Patience and good manners, you’re a changed man yet.”

“Does that mean if I ask to feel you up in the limo, you’ll say yes?”

“My neighbors, Nathan,” You remind him sternly, though you’re still smiling.

“Stuffy old fucks probably need a good show.”

“Walk.”

—

The limo ride to the nearby docks is 40 minutes with the traffic — and he helps you out like a gentleman, guiding you to a moderately sized boat. It’s impressive, all cream and blues, the

“Nathan, why is there a helicopter next to this boat?”

“In case you need to get home,” He says simply, if that explanation is enough.

“In case— we got here by limo.”

“You’re a phone call and a 10 minute helicopter ride away from your family.”

How were you gonna make it through dinner without dragging him to the ground so you could ruck up your dress and fuck him? He was saying all of this, doing all of this so nonchalantly, like it isn’t the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

He leans in, mouth and beard tickling your cheek as his whispers teasingly, “This is usually where people say thank you.”

You lean away, giggling a little. Your tone is suggestive, “What if I’m saving my thank you until after dinner?”

“Finally gonna show me some of those methods? It’s been driving me fucking nuts, honey.”

“Depends on how good you are.”

Nathan bites back a moan. This is all so fucking surreal. Being out of his home, being with you. Learning more and more about you, seeing you. Being yours and you being his. It’s more than he could’ve hoped for. He thought he would’ve fucked up by now— and he has, but you held a selfless amount of patience in your heart. He finds himself feeling…grateful? It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one he pushes away from a young age.

“Don’t be filthy before dinner,” He murmurs lowly.

“You‘ve been eyeing my tits since you picked me up,” You challenge.

“I’ve been appreciating them, there’s a difference. You ever been on a boat before?”

You eye the boat thoughtfully, “My mom used to take me on the ferry. Does that count?”

Nathan hums. He hasn’t ushered you onto the boat just yet, the two of you standing out on the docks in the salty breeze. It’s nice, being out in the fresh air like this, the water dark as the sun finishes dipping below the horizon. He’d anticipated much more anxiety given his hermit tendencies but it was just you and him and the few staff he’d hired to manage the boat.

“Do you want to name it?” He blurts out all of a sudden.

“Name what?”

“The boat,” He nods towards the ship.

You frown, confused. “You haven’t named the boat?”

“I bought it last week.”

“Nathan, did you buy this boat to take me out on a date?”

“Yes I did,” He says with no shame.

All of that will be an adjustment, the blasé way that he spends money— especially when he spends it on you. You know that he has a fuck ton of it but still; you’ve never lived a life of luxury.

“Do all employees get this sign-on bonus?” You tease.

“Hush, cheeky girl. Name the boat.”

You grow thoughtful, and that thoughtfulness quickly melts into a melancholic, wistful feeling. You think about your mom. How she’s been swayed back and forth by the tide of life, doing her best to float above it all. It would be nice wouldn’t it, to name something after the woman you love most?

“Boats are named after strong women. So I think…Tiana,” You murmur, voice full of emotion. You clear your throat quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice.

But Nathan’s obsessed with you— and now that you’ve let him in, he can sense every push and pull. He maneuvers you so that your back is flush with his front. “I like it. Tiana…is that your mother?”

You don’t trust your voice. You simply hum, nodding a little bit as you press back against him.

He squeezes you tighter, “It’s perfect, baby. Absolutely fucking perfect.

He cups your jaw with one hand, guiding your gaze to his. He’s never seen you nonverbal like this before, never seen sadness in your eyes like this. It makes his chest ache. He guides your mouth to his, kissing you with gentle reverence you never would’ve guessed he was capable of until recently.

Nathan just holds you, letting you melt against him in silence for an undetermined amount of time. His worry grows. “Do you want to call the nurse before we sit down for dinner? Emma? Phillipa?”

Finally, you speak. “No. No, it’s alright. I spend the entire day away from all of them when I’m working for you— I can do this.”

“Just say the word, okay, sweetheart?”

You lean in to give him a soft peck of appreciation, “Yes, I will. Thank you, Nathan.”

Dinner is much more elaborate than it had to be— but this is Nathan you’re talking about, a man with practically the entire world at his fingertips. Of course a 10 course meal makes sense to him. Not that you’re complaining about a personal sized crawl through Italy; breads and antipasto, pastas of all sorts, wines that are perfectly paired, and to end your favorite dessert from the first time the two of you shared a meal together. Despite his underestimating himself and his chaste manner, you think that Nathan is good at romance. He’s great at romance. By the time you’re finishing the last bite, you’re warm and full, a little buzzed and most importantly— needy for him.

Your entire body is craving his. You’ve denied your desires and his for long enough. You need him, you feel like you might go insane with lust— with love, if you don’t have him.

“Are we sleeping here?”

“There’s a suite downstairs, or there’s a hotel nearby I reserved. It’s your call.”

“Here…here is good. Will you take me to bed?” You ask, nonchalantly.

Nathan chokes on the wine he’s sipping, setting it down to looking at you more intently. “Take you to bed,” He repeats.

“Yes, Nathan, take me to bed,” You practically purr at him this time, voice low and smoky.

Nathan has had lots of sex in his life, never been flustered or taken aback by anyone. He’s accepted that all of his past experiences go out the window when it comes to you, but he doesn’t expect such a strong reaction out of himself when faced with the opportunity to finally ravish you. He feels like if he stood up right now, his legs would give out like jello.

The way you’re looking at him— he’s sure no one has ever looked at him like this in his entire life. Carnal and hungry, like when you kissed him breathless in the forest, but more intense. It’s almost overwhelming. He’s never been consumed before, and that’s exactly how you’re looking at him. Like you’re going to swallow him whole. His cock twitches and he takes a deep breath.

“Come here,” He says softly, pushing away from the table and holding his hand out for you.

You stand, moving closer to him but don’t take his hand. “If I touch you…if we start here, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

Nathan feels winded. He squeezes his eyes shut, and nods. “Fuck, honey, alright. Follow me.”

Nathan guides you through the dining room and down a hall, not even bothering to mention what doors the two of you pass. His heart is pounding in his chest— he’s ready for this, been ready for so long and he wants this to mean something. He had been ready to wait as long as you needed in order for this moment to be everything it can be.

The suite he takes you to is larger than you anticipated it to be, but you can’t bring yourself to care. As soon as Nathan shuts the door behind you, you practically launch yourself at him, your hands starting at where his shirt is tucked into his pants. You ruck it up, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Whoa, mmm,” He hums into your mouth. His hands finally fall to cup your ass, kneading and squeezing the way he’s wanted to for hours now. “You been this desperate the whole time?”

“Have you?” You counter as you press him against the door, grinding your hips against his. You can feel him through the fabric of his trousers, and it makes your mouth water.

“Fuck, baby, lemme get you on the bed at least,” He breathes when he feels the way your hips rut.

You pull away, looking at him with bright but hazy eyes— like he’s just come up with some revolutionary idea. “The bed, right. Come here.”

You start to walk backwards, guiding him with you by his shirt. Once the back of your thighs hit the bed, you switch positions with him, encouraging him to sit down so that you can straddle him. Nathan feels weightless— this is like his dream come true. Just a couple months ago he was jerking himself off imagining a sight like this, and now he was living it.

Looking up at you, he feels warm. Fuzzy. Like he’s in the safest place he’ll ever be in. With his limited data and hope, trust— things he’s never had with anyone— he knows that he is. This is all he’ll ever need. You’re all he’ll ever need. He loves you so much it hurts.

“Baby,” He sighs, guiding your mouth down to his. Where your mouth is hurried and insistent, his is lazy and indulgent. He wants to savor every moment.

“Hmm,” You hum grinding down against his clothed cock in a move that makes both of you moan.

“I fucking love you.”

You lean away, eyes wide with alarm. Part of you, most of you, thought that to be true. Well— whatever he was capable of feeling that was close to love. He’s proved himself to you. All of his intentions, his actions, his words— no matter how haphazard he’s been in communicating them— have been pure. While just a few months ago you were sure Nathan could love no one but himself, you’re sure now that he’s being completely honest. It sends you further into your frenzy. He loves you.

Nathan Bateman fucking loves you.

You’re quiet for so long that he feels antsy. There’s no regret, no anger in his heart like he thought there could be when first pursuing you. But he is starting to feel small, like a nuisance like his parents made him feel all those years ago.

“Really?” You ask breathlessly, unsure if it’s from his declaration or your body’s response to being pressed against him like this.

He scoffs, squeezing your hips, “Really? You think I fucking—“

“Okay, alright, I love you too.”

“Really?”

You fix him with narrowed eyes. Of course you get scolded but he gets to do the exact same thing as you. It’s very Nathan. It makes you love him more.

“Nathan.”

“My really is fucking justified, I’m some asshole, you’re…you’re the moon. The sun. The sky. I’m not good at this poetic shit but I mean it.”

“You’re the sweetest, most thoughtful, insightful and just— kind. I know what you’re thinking, I know that something or someone’s taught you not to think that you’re kind and worthy but you are. Even if you’re an asshole and a clown, you are. And I love you.”

“We’re fucking corny and sickly sweet and so cliche. I could vomit,” He says, his grin wide and genuine.

You nuzzle into him, laughing softly at the tickle of his beard, “You would study it, see if it quantified any of your love for me.”

“So you think I’m disgusting,” He murmurs, using his grip on you to rock your hips down against his cock.

The pressure is sweet, and you shiver even as you try to get your voice even. “Am I wrong?”

He laughs a little, eyes fluttering when you help him rock you down even further, “No.”

You reach up to remove his glasses, bending to set them on the side of the bed— you didn’t want to break them, now with how you were about to ravish him. “Kiss me, Nathan.”

Usually, he needs to be told things once, twice, and again but this request Nathan obeys immediately. His hands start to travel up your body, fingers sliding under the fabric of your dress to expose inch after inch of your precious skin. His eyes are closed as he bares you to him, pulling down the cups of your bra so your breasts spill out, but he can feel how beautiful you are under his fingertips. Smooth and soft, fitting perfectly in his grasp. Every touch, every kiss is electric. His hands skate up your stomach, cupping your breasts before he takes your nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good. So good,” He mumbles into your mouth, his fingers still working, eager to hear the soft little sound you made.

You melt into him, nodding frantically as you continue to sip from his mouth. “You too.”

Nathan breaks away from your mouth, biting and kissing his way down your neck, sucking a faint mark into your skin. More. He wants more of you, and you more of him. He kisses a trail between your breasts before leaning in, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth. You taste so fucking good. Like honey and cocoa, so delicious. Not for the first time, Nathan thinks about how much he wants to consume you. Or be consumed. He can’t choose, his head is spinning and he’s getting more frantic, shaking beneath you as he sucks and nips at you.

You can feel yourself getting lost in him, but this isn’t what you’ve thought about all these months. He feels incredible, his mouth is warm, his hands sure. The pleasure that’s blooming all over your body is one you'll never give up. But, no, for all these months, you’ve thought about turning him into a whining, shivering mess. You’ve thought about making him cum over and over until he can think of nothing but you.

You lean away, cupping your face in your hands, “Wait— please, let me touch you. I get off all the time, but I haven’t touched a man in so long. I wanna see you.”

“Honey—“

Your hands fall, gripping his shirt and ripping at it. Buttons scatter as you work him out of the shirt, leaning in to coax his mouth open for you once more. “Let me make you cum. Please, I need it.”

“That’s what you want?” He asks skeptically.

“Yeah, and you’d give me anything, wouldn't you? You ask, tilting your head at him expectantly.

“I’d give you anything,” He confirms.

You slid out of his lap, reaching behind to unclasp your bra and discard it. It leaves you in nothing but black lace panties. “Then take your pants off.”

All Nathan can do for several moments is stare at you, his mouth agape, ready to drool. He could believe he’s died and gone to heaven, except he doesn’t believe such a place exists. And if he did, he would not end up in a place where he would be so privileged to be met with the sight of you. You're an angel in the most sinful way.

“Nathan,” You coo when he doesn’t move, a soft grin on your face.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, a soft blush rising in his cheeks.

It’s adorable, it makes the heat in your lower belly burn brighter. You can feel yourself getting wetter for him by the second. “I thought about you like this so much.”

“Could've fooled me,” He heaves, trying to seem less affected than he is. That boat sailed the moment you asked him to take you to bed.

You laugh softly at his words, dropping to your knees and resting your hands on his broad thighs. “Don’t be snarky, baby, just let me make us feel good. You want that don’t you?”

Nathan shivers, even as your warm, honeyed voice glides across his skin. God he knew you’d be like this, knew he’d bend to your will so easily but to hear it and feel it. “I do,” He sighs, allowing you to guide him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Your eyes are dark with hunger, and you lick your lips a little as you look up at him. “God, your cock’s so fucking pretty. Can I put my mouth on you?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” He whispers earnestly.

You aren’t gentle or patient or thoughtful about letting him adjust. You take Nathan’s cock completely, so deep that he feels like he’s starting to enter your stomach. It takes everything in him to keep his hips down, a will that crumbles when you swallow, your throat tightening around him. The sound you make is a cross between a gag and a satisfied hum. You pull off without missing a beat, spitting on the tip of his cock and lifting a hand to grip and pump him.

“Mmm, shit, that’s really…that’s really fucking—“ Nathan babbles incoherently, words cutting off.

You start in on him again, your head bobbing up and down as you take him over and over again. The noises he’s making have you squeezing your thighs together. Soft and breathy and so so sweet. You peer up at him wanting to see how he looks. The flush in his cheeks is deeper and redder, his eyes somehow sharp and hazy all at once. Seeing him so vulnerable, gooey and nearing the peak of pleasure you don’t stop, sucking harder, allowing the tip of his cock to go deeper.

One of his hands falls to your shoulders, gripping it gently, “Wait— wait— fuck, hold on baby, just,”

Carefully, you pull off of him, wiping at the trail of spit that connects your mouth to his cock. You look up at him with those sweet little eyes, like you haven’t nearly sucked what little of a soul lies within him. “Hmm?”

“Wanna cum inside you, please.”

“This is you cumming inside me,” You challenge, kissing at the head of his cock.

“Inside your pussy,” He gasps, the vein that trails down the center of his forehead on display as he fights to stay still—as he holds back.

You rest your head on his thigh, looking up at him like he’s hung the moon. The sight alone almost makes him cum.

“Say, please,” You whisper.

“Please, sweetheart.”

“You’re so good, do you know that?” You ask him softly, reaching up to cup his face.

“Good?” He asks with a furrowed brow. The word directed at himself feels clumsy in his mouth.

“Good,” You repeat as confirmation. “So good that you’re gonna lay back against those pillows without another word aren’t you?”

Processing your words, he simply nods, helping you to your feet before he scoots back, propped up against the pillows, looking so devilishly handsome. If you stared at him long enough, you’re sure you could cum from just this sight. But why torture yourself like that, when you’re this close to having him buried inside you? Body humming with anticipation you crawl up the bed, straddling him once more.

“Do you want to feel how wet I am?”

“Yes,” He answers quickly before tacking on, “please.”

That sentence alone shows just how much Nathan Bateman is a changed man. Please without being promoted? Atop apologies and vulnerability and love confessions.

You hold your panties to the side for him, “Go on then. Touch me, baby.”

Nathan’s eyes track to where your pussy runs along his cock, burning hot. He reaches for you, letting his fingers sweat through your folds, causing both of you to moan. You’re so fucking wet, dripping, glistening in the warm lamplight.

“For me?” He asks, voice and hands trembling as he finds your clit, pressing his thumb against it.

“For you. Because you’re so fucking good for me. Good to me.”

Every fucking word out of your mouth pulls his closer to his release. He needs to be inside you, he can feel the clock ticking. “Can I fuck you now, honey? Please, I need to feel you.”

“Who knew Nathan Bateman would beg?”

“On my knees for the rest of my fucking life, baby.”

You can picture it, except in your dreams, Nathan’s beard is shining with your slick. Your breath catches, and you grow too needy to continue teasing him. It takes you just a few seconds to line him up with your entrance, giving neither of you time to adjust as you sink down on him completely. His back arches, huffing a heavy, labored breath. He’s sweating, he can feel it, his skin slick underneath your fingertips as your pussy grips him so deliciously tight. You’re dripping down his cock already.

“Fuck, honey—,” He laughs, squeezing at your hip, nearly pushing you off to hold on. “Fuck me, you couldn’t have— warned a guy?”

“Sorry,” You breathe, grinning down at him, “needed to fuck you.”

Nathan’s eyes roll as you rock your hips, completely breathless, “Shit—your pussy’s so fucking tight. So hot, you been saving this all for me?”

You bend, your nose resting against his as you gaze into him, “Savor it— don’t think. Don’t control. Just enjoy it, Nathan. Be with me. Give in to me. Say yes.”

“Yes,” He slurs, drawn out and drunk on you.

You guide his hands to either side of his head, holding them down by his wrists as you start to move, your pussy taking his cock the way your throat had with even more ease. The two of you fit together so perfectly, your cunt swallowing his entire length over and over, pleasure mounting higher and higher inside you. Nathan’s winning the fight against his body now. He’s happy to submit to you, it feels so good, so perfectly sweet, like he was made to be underneath you like this. But his body screams for release, to roll you over and fuck you hard until you squeeze his cock so tight there’s no choice in his cumming.

“Wanna cum…wanna cum in your pussy,” He whines, his hips lazily rocking up to meet yours.

“You will baby, I’ll let you fill me up,” You assure him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, teasing yourself and him for a moment as you close your eyes and let yourself really feel every single inch of him.

Nathan’s lips are parted slightly, pink and flushed, soft gasps leaving him as your hips grind down against his. You remove one of your hands from his wrists, leaning back so you have room to run your thumb over the swell of his bottom lip.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” He says, his words syrupy, “feels good. So good.”

“Let me in there,” You murmur, tapping two of your fingers against his lips, and he opens wide immediately. You purposefully clench your cunt around him, a small reward for his obedience and he groans, his back arching as pleasure burns in his veins.

“I’m gonna soak your cock,” You tell him matter of factly.

Nathan’s eyes go wide, his chest rising fast as his lungs beg for air. No matter what he does its not enough. He’s drowning in you, there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s nothing he really wants to do about it. “Soak my—“

“Nice and wet, all over you. Gonna make us messier,” You whisper, like the sound of his cock gliding in and out of you isn’t already obscene. “You want that don’t you, Nathan?”

He doesn’t have words, just soft, needy sounds. Pleading round eyes. Shallow, noisy breaths. It’s all the answer you need.

“I know, baby. I know. Cum whenever you need to, I’ll make it,” The gentle tone of your voice doesn’t match the devious look in your eyes.

You know exactly what you’re doing. You know his cock aches with the need to release, know he’s fighting this because he never wants this to end. Know that he’s never been this deep in subspace in his life, that he’ll obey any command you give him.

You shift up on your knees, until you’re taking nothing but the tip, and then rock back, taking him as deep as you can. Bending to your will, Nathan cums with a sound that can only be described as sweet agony.

As he fills you up, your hips slip into a grind, pressing and pressing the tip of his cock against the sensitive spot inside you. You can feel it coming now, you know just how to twist your hips, just how long to rub at your clit to make it happen. Your thighs grow tight, your cunt clenching as it starts to milk him for everything he’s got. You gush around him, the sound so wet and filthy that Nathan thinks he might cum again. Your slick is everywhere; your thighs, your stomach and all over Nathan, his lower belly glistening with you. He looks down and groans again, need rising sharply in his chest. He wants to taste you.

“Let me taste you, please. Drown me,” He begs, one of his hands shakily reaching for where the two of you connect.

Your hands fall to the pillows on either side of his head, propping you up from where you’d since collapsed onto him. “Nathan, baby, you’re tired—“

But, Nathan is desperate— as desperate as you were when you asked him to take you to bed, you can hear it in his voice as he pleads, “Sit on my face. Please, please, please, baby. Fucking, please. Let me eat your pussy.”

Your lost to him and his begging. With the little strength you have left, you shuffle up, getting you thighs on either side of his head, gently lowering yourself down through the burn of your muscles. Nathan has another idea, weakly reaching for you and effectively smothering himself in your pussy. Its messy, the sounds of his mouth as he licks and sucks at your clit like a starved man. Like you two hadn’t just stuffed yourselves full at dinner.

“Nathan,” You mumble, trying to steady yourself by leaning against the headboard. His beard tickles against your thighs, but makes the work of his mouth even better, brushing each and every bit of your sensitive pussy.

Despite your plea, Nathan is insatiable, pulling you down by his grip on your ass. He’s gasping and whining into your cunt, like it's all too much and too little at the same time. He can hardly breathe with how firmly he’s got you pressed against his face, though he wouldn’t change his position for the world. He would happily die here if it was what you wanted.

He can feel your thighs shaking against the sides of his head and knows that you’re close to cumming. Doubling his efforts, Nathan switches from running his tongue through your folds to focusing solely on your clit, circling and circling in a maddening technique. When you fall apart on his tongue, he presses his tongue inside of you, eager to drink up every single drop of your sweet honey.

He feels like he’s cumming again, his cock jerking behind you though there’s nothing for him to release. He feels like he’s been split right open, all of his tender, vulnerable spots on display.

It takes several minutes for Nathan to come back to himself once you shift off of his face, laying your body against his. He’s gasping for air with tightly shut eyes, his entire body shaking. You run a hand up and down his chest, cooing soft praises as you try to soothe him.

He stares at the ceiling, steadying his breaths. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re the filthiest person I’ve ever met.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, admiring the shine of his beard that’s completely covered in you. A mark that he’s yours. “Thank you.”

The grin on your face— you’re trying to fucking kill him. How many times has he thought since he’s started this endeavor of winning your heart and why is it not over now that he has? Your grin is smug, full of fire, the fire he’s wanted from the moment he laid his eyes on you. He loves you so fucking much. If this is what he gets, he’ll be better for the rest of his life. He’ll move to the city, do the house in the crowded suburbs with the picket fence, get married. Have kids, and attend the most boring PTA meetings that plan bake sales. Bake sales where he’d have to make cookies— real cookies, not the ones with coconut sugar and almond flour, and low sugar chocolate. If it was what you wanted he’d do it all. Any of it at the drop of a hat.

“What are you thinking about?” You trace small shapes on his chest, enjoying the post-coital cuddle.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“That you’re everything,” He says easily. It’s nice— the reservations, the anxiety that he had about all of this has faded in the shadows.

With you, Nathan gets to be completely honest, knowing that he’s safe. None of what his parents said was true. He’s not unlovable. He’s not selfish. He isn’t just a fuck up that can never amount to anyone’s expectations. Despite his mistakes, he’s allowed to be loved.

“Remember when I was just your employee?” You ask teasingly, snuggling further into him.

“Fuck, I was an idiot for months. Best thing I’ve ever had, dangling in front of me in plain sight.”

“Not Bluebook?”

“No.”

“Or buying that property?”

“No.”

“The money?”

“No.”

“Your freedom?”

He snorts, “My freedom?”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted to you,” You remind him.

“And I fucking meant it.”

“It doesn’t sound very…freeing. Very Nathan,” You muse softly.

Nathan’s quiet for a long time— so long that you grow nervous, afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to sit up to apologize, he wraps his arms around you, dropping a kiss on your forehead, “This, sweetheart, is the freest I’ve ever been in my life.”

Fin

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho

#genuinely couldn’t hold this in any longer #BUT ALSO ONE OF THE EXTRAS IS FINISHED SO #i listened well #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman fanfiction #nathan bateman #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #not sfw #arson writes

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

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🧎‍♀️more edira????? in evil old lesbian office worker we trust 🙏

how about a honeymoon-esque vacation scenario??? I am dying to see more of casual edira, the way she was in that last drabble ahgdgshababnabab

ur writing is just so good 💝

A/N: This is so kind! I was really surprised that Edira kept showing up in my inbox but I can't complain! I didn't want to jump to honeymoon just yet so here's a little vacation/beach episode :D

CW: blackmail/forced relationship, power imbalance, edira grabbing reader’s butt, overall possessive red flags --WC:2300

Synopsis: vacay with your powertrip of a girlfriend Edira! But her workaholic tendencies are hard to escape.

Taking “official” photos was always a humbling experience. You looked down at your passport ID for the hundredth time, grimacing at how dead you looked in the grainy picture.

“It’s not that bad. And see, the light hit your eyes perfectly,” Edira promised, but it didn’t fix the frown on your face as you focused on each blemish and pore that was exacerbated tenfold in the tiny image that represented who you were across country lines.

“Easy for you to say, you look the same as you did in your headshots on the branch website..”

You looked at her from the bed, watching the back of her sandy grey-blonde head shake with a sigh. The business woman rapidly typed away on her glowing laptop, seemingly irritated by the crashing waves outside the open sliding doors.

“Well, if you really want we can get it taken again, when I put my last name on there too.”

At that, you were quiet. Moving in together, and now vacations across boarders…. Her reference to marriage shouldn’t have been shocking, but it put all other thoughts in your brain to a stop. You didn’t really want to marry her, did you? Your blackmailing boss who was more like a war general than a tender lover, one who daydreamed about bending you over her desk more than what flowers she’d want at the ceremony venue. The possibility of staring into her bleak expression at an empty, cold courthouse and being forced to elope was something that made your frown droop even further.

The sad excuse of a wedding depressed you more than the thought of marrying Edira at all.

But you shook that despairing vision out of your head-- you were here to relax, to get away from the stress of your office environment (your coworkers) and neverending projects with cutthroat deadlines (running reports and files to Edira as soon as she requests them.)

“Well, I still don’t know how I convinced you to let us do this. I mean, I didn’t think you ever took vacations. When’s the last time you went on a trip that wasn’t for work?”

Edira stopped her clacking, french tips scraping along one of the computer’s keys.

“This is my first. I never had any reason to use my PTO days, until now.”

Wow, you really WERE dating a workaholic. What kind of insane person doesn’t use their personal days the second they get the chance? If you had been more than a temp, you would’ve taken all of yours the second Edira tried to indoctrinate you into her little play “date” plan.

“Well then why are you doing work!? This is one of the few times you can get away with not being available every other second of the day. You’ve been on your computer since we got on the plane-- isn’t it time we actually, you know, vacationed?”

Edira returned to her email writing. “They might need me, I’m the only one who has access to the other branches’ inf--”

“C’monn, I think they’ll be fine without you for an hour or two. Otherwise, what was the point of coming here..” You hopped to the screen doors, opening the curtains to see the glimmering ocean right outside your suite.The sand rippled with the blowing wind, completely void of footsteps or life. “I mean we LITERALLY have the ocean right here and you’d rather stare at your laptop.”

Edira hummed, not convinced.

Yikes; If you wanted to explore the island you were supposed to be vacationing on, you’d need to pull out the big guns.

“You’d rather focus on your work than… spend time with me?” Your voice cracked, looking at the ships far away from your corner of the coast. It was physically sickening to sweeten yourself up in order to get Edira’s favor. But how else could you actually use this once-in-a-lifetime chance to swim in the Indian Ocean, to experience something, anything, outside of your boring desk job and droning urban life.

At your buttered up question, Edira paused. You could see her looking at you from the corner of her eye, unreadable.

She shut her laptop. Pushing away from the desk she sighed, running a sharp hand through her hair, tight jaw clenching and unclenching.

“Put your bathing suit on.” Was all she said, unzipping the back of her form-fitting dress.

You didn’t say anything, no claps of excitement or relentless thank you’s-- lest she change her mind to ruin your fun. You hurried to change your shorts and souvenir shirt (A present from the airport gift shop; Edira saw you eyeing it) as the businesswoman walked to the master bathroom.

You prayed to be faster than her, hoping she wouldn’t catch you in a position that sparked her lust.

You were running around looking for sunscreen and towels when she came out, hands on her hips and dark sunglasses propped on her head. Even in her backless one piece, she looked like an executive on a business trip, hard glare in her eyes and a muted black covering the front of her body. From the back however, a different person was hidden. The cheeky bottoms exposed nearly the full of her, well, bottom, as ruffled locks of hair fell like messy feathers down her shoulders, exposed to the salty wind. She was the sexy women in swimsuit magazines, meant to be a fantasy of maturity and dominance way out of your league. But here she was, looking you up and down as you hopped on one foot to try and grab a towel on the other side of the bed.

“You know, i’m not really a big fan of the beach. I don’t know why I picked this place… should’ve chosen the mountains or something. Someplace we wouldn’t be bothered.”

Someplace she could have you all to herself, she meant. Somewhere you wouldn’t be distracted by things to do and would come looking to her for warmth by the fire.

“Maybe next vacation!” You hoped, praying that it turned the cogs in her machine brain to take you somewhere else, anywhere else, soon. “Meanwhile, we have our own private beach, thanks to you. We’ll only be bothered by the occasional seaweed. And maybe a fish or two.”

You gathered up the beach necessities in your arms, full of towels and a beach umbrella, along with small must-haves like water bottles and sunscreen spray cans. Edira looked at you with an incredilous stare, grabbing the towels and water from your hands to shove into her beach bag.

“Yeah, didn’t really think of that.” You said, noticing how most of the things you grabbed could be fit into her infinite ‘lifes a beach’ tote-- complementary from your Airbnb hosts.

“Let’s go.”

She walked out to the naked patio, locking her pointer finger with yours as you hiked the umbrella on your shoulder. You had come to learn Edira well; she didn’t like the sun, hated most gelatinous sugary mixtures, and was incredibly stubborn if an activity included something she found beneath her. Getting sand between her toes, included.

You found a place far away from the shore and began spinning the umbrella’s pole into the ground. Edira would surely make use of its shade, but the ocean was calling your name as she sat down on her beach towel, squinting behind her sunglasses.

“I can see the harbor from across the water; not particularly private, I’d say. The hosts’ll make sure to hear about this when we leave.”

“It’s private enough. What, did you want to go skinny dipping or something?” You laughed, clumping sand at the base of the umbrella with your foot. “The press would have a field day.”

You flumped down next to her, happy to be out of that stuffy, although beautiful, beach house that reminded you too much of Edira’s apartment. The warm sand was comforting, shells and rocks placed around you like little treasures.

“If I want to go skinny dipping with you I should be able to, not have to worry about some fisherman watching while I touch you.” She pulled at your thigh, placing her hand on the inside as she lifted up her sunglasses. “Or maybe, you’d like that, letting them watch you frolick and squirm. Maybe we should find out if they can really see us--”

She had the full intention of digging under your bottoms to make a statement, but your reaction time to her had improved.

“You’re such a worrywart, can we just swim now please? It’s better than sitting her in the hot sun, on the sticky sand..” You knew you caught her when she turned her nose at the mention of the sun, only worsening as she started to feel the sand cover her feet.

She was a priss through and through, and sometimes it worked in your favor.

“Fine… but if I’m touched by something slimy I can’t help what I do.”

You grinned with your teeth, unable to hold back a smile at finally getting to experience the beginning of your vacation.

You ran to the waves crashing against the sand, feeling them flick up at your ankles and knees as you waded in the water.

You turned around to walk backwards into the sea, watching as the woman hesitantly took out a hairtie that once had her hair in a high pony.

“Come on! Slowpoke!”

Edira reached the gap between land and water, frowning at schools of tiny fish and jagged rocks that would surely make it hard to walk in heels the next morning.

You had to drag her further, holding her outstretched hand as she let you lead her deeper into the water.

“It’s not so bad, right? Nothing slimy thus far…”

“Something’s definitely touching my leg.” She remarked, linking arms with you as if you were a safety floaty. “And it smells like fish.”

You both trudged far enough from shore, a little more than waist deep as you watched the sun near the horizon line.

You took a moment to look at it, staring as the boats pass by from far away, seeing the empty houses on the beach neighboring yours between areas of trees.

Edira turned towards you, the same moment something coming to grip your bottom.

“Something nabbed me!” You nearly shrieked, only to feel the same sensation on your other cheek, pulling you forward against Edira. She had her arms wrapped behind you, squeezing your ass like it was dough to be kneaded.

“Thought I was the scared one, hm?”

You looked away, putting your hands against Edira’s abdomen. She leered over you, ignoring your attempts to create distance as she caged you in. The waves pushed you together, water swaying as her legs brushed against your knees deep below.

“don't look away from me now, you're too adorable like this…”

She watched your eyes barely peek up, defensive fists flattening against the bare of her collarbone. She was almost spotless, save for a few sun-kissed freckles sprinkled here and there.

Edira grinned a wolfy smirk. Even despite her discomfort in the sea she knew you were wrapped around her finger, nervous lips twitching while watching her bring a hand from your bottom to your neck.

Her hands were salty and wet from the sea, pulling at the base of your head to bring you closer. The workaholic almost seemed to begin destressing as her nose pressed against yours.. Edira nuzzled with her forehead pressed to your sweaty one, fine fingers caressing downward to grab your jaw.

Without warning, her tongue perched itself against your cheek, turning your face to the side as she ran a long stripe up to your temple. It was wet and full, drawing out her time to savor the flavor and discomfort of your expression.

“What are you--”

“Salty.” She murmured. “You're so soft, getting all mushy in my arms.” Edira laughed-- a real laugh, with a small snort as she leaned into you. She was so close, the intimate entertwining of your bodies so unusual from her normal obscurity.

It was hard not to look petulant when her eyes peered down at you with a gleam, as if you were a cute drunk thing at the bar she wanted to take home safe, or a pampered puppy ready to be suffocated with attention.

“So cute.. might make me jealous letting all these boatmen see you in such a little bathing suit.” She teased, progressively in a better mood now with the clouds blocking the sun and your body so cooperative in her grasp.

“Jealous?” You rolled your eyes. “Oh noo, I could never imagine my girlfriend being jealous.”

All the times of her domineering possessive behavior ran through your head, the sarcastic comment truly not detailing how severe she had gone.

“I am your girlfriend…” she grinned, kissing your shoulder with a tight grip arpund your hips. “Now that I hear it,I want more… it sounds too, loose.”

Wait, did you really call her your “girlfriend”? Hell, maybe the sun was starting to get to you.

“We'll it’s not like we can get MARRIED, haha,” you awkwardly brush off how romantic she's being all of a sudden, soft circles created by her nails running along the dip of your back. “I mean… right? We're too uncommitted for marriage, and I mean who would want to marry someone the’re in a fake relationship with.”

You couldn’t tell if you were talking about her or you anymore. Edira’s chest pressed against yours, arms tentatively keeping you trapped against her.

“Mm… Still feels fake to you?” She questioned In your neck, surprisingly calmer than you expected her to be at that comment. “How much more do I need to convince you that this is real,” Those soft lips came to brush against your ear. “That you’re not going anywhere.”

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