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bloodbruise · 21 days

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@jegulus-microfic | april 26: aimless | 1,276 words | trans! regulus

james does regulus' tape binding aftercare <3

James lingers in the doorway, quietly observing Regulus in their softly lit bathroom.

He's perched on the ledge of the bathtub, seemingly lost in thought, his head bowed and fingers idle and aimless where they trace the rim of it. He's shirtless, clad in only boxers and socks. His bare thighs press against the cool porcelain, causing goosebumps to rise there. Soft, late evening light leaks from the window, casting gentle shadows against his frame.

Outside, the rhythmic passing of cars punctuates the stillness, their headlights casting golden beams that dance across the wet asphalt. The nearby stoplight's red glow mingles with them, creating a surreal mix of colors on the shimmering pavement.

There's a soft rustle of movement as James enters the room behind Regulus, moving to the sink. He sifts through the contents of their vanity, hands passing over their shared face wash and the cup holding their toothbrushes to retrieve the items needed for Regulus' tape aftercare. Deft hands gather oil, washcloths, cotton swabs, and salve before placing them on the bathtub ledge. He approaches Regulus with a tenderness reserved only for moments like these, for him.

"Ready, love?" James' voice breaks the silence with a mellow murmur. He settles his weight behind him.

Regulus turns his head, giving a small nod against his own shoulder. "Yeah," he says, voice crackling from disuse.

James leans in to press a kiss between Regulus' shoulder blades. He lingers there for a moment. This close, he can see the faint dusting of freckles that mark his back. They're spattered across the skin like spray from a wave on sand. Speckles in shades of russet, sepia, and chocolate dance across his pale skin, shifting as Regulus shivers lightly. As James' lips leave his back, the muscles beneath those pretty dots tremble.

James reaches for the oil, uncaps it, and warms it between his hands. He presses both his palms to Regulus, carefully smoothing the oil over the edges of the tape. His touch follows the span of the tape from Regulus' back, under his arms, to the front of his chest. His movements are slow and practiced, designed as much to reassure as to treat. The oil glistens slightly on Regulus' skin, catching the dim light as it begins to soften the adhesive.

As they wait for the tape to loosen, a comfortable silence settles over them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city and their own quiet breathing. James doesn't stop his ministrations; his fingers continue to trace gentle paths along Regulus' shoulders, the back of his neck, following the delicate contours of his shoulder blades. These moments are so special to him; he wants Regulus to feel loved through his actions, to experience the same palpable surge of affection with each pass of his hands that James feels. There is so much trust that Reg offers him in these moments—it's intimate. James is the only person Regulus allows to see the most vulnerable parts of himself, and that knowledge alone makes James' heart swell with fondness and love. He has never loved someone as he does Regulus.

Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.

Sometimes, James thinks Regulus was crafted specifically for him; as if the cosmos themselves conspired to mold him to perfectly complement the contours of James' own body, his own soul. Looking back, it's almost silly to him now—he thought he knew what love was like before him. His heart was already overflowing with it for Sirius, his mum, his dad, his friends. He's always had big emotions, brimming with affection and fierce protectiveness for the people around him. He's always cared deeply and felt profoundly, but nothing could have prepared him for the depth of feeling that Regulus brought into his life.

James knows nothing, nobody else could ever make him feel like this.

He settles his hands on the edges of the tape on Regulus' left side. "Gonna take it off now, okay?"

"Yeah, okay James. Go ahead"

James pulls at the tape gently, easing it from the skin. He's careful not to pull too hard or move too fast, patient as he works. He grabs Regulus' bicep, thumb pressing into the underside, fingers curling over. "Lift your arm up, Reg," he instructs softly.

Regulus raises his arm, holding it aloft as James' hand moves back down to steady the skin being separated from the tape. He can't resist pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his bicep before continuing to peel off the tape there. When he encounters a tough spot, where the tape still clings to his skin, James reaches for more oil. He warms it between his fingers once again before lightly holding the piece back, rubbing it into the seam between Regulus' skin and the tape until it loosens enough for him to continue. He carefully removes the first piece, then works at a second, a third, before repeating the process on Regulus' right side.

There's still a faint trace of leftover adhesive where the edges of the tape once were. So, James takes a cotton swab, dips it in oil, and meticulously traces the outlines left by the pieces. He moves slowly, with deliberate delicacy, mindful of the soreness of his skin.

Once he's satisfied, James fetches the washcloth. He soaks it in warm, soapy water and carefully cleans the area, wiping away excess oil and any lingering traces of the day. Then he reaches for the salve—the last physical part of their routine, though James knows the comfort it brings goes beyond just the skin. Two of his fingers dip into the container, scooping up the soothing balm. James is so careful with him, his fingers so gentle as they spread the salve, taking extra care with the tender skin under his arms and over his ribs. He traces the rungs of them, then the dip of his chest, making sure no skin is left uncared for.

James then grabs what's technically his own shirt—a worn, soft thing that Regulus has claimed as his own, his favorite pajama top—from the ledge of the sink. He helps Regulus slip it over his head, taking advantage of every second he allows him to be so close, to take care of him.

"Feeling okay?" James asks once Regulus is settled.

He trails his hand at the hem of his shirt, slipping it underneath to rest gently on his stomach, careful not to brush the newly cared-for skin or his chest.

Regulus hums an affirmative, "mhmm." Eyes closing and head tipping back as he nods.

"I'm not just asking about your skin, love," James whispers. It's tough for Regulus sometimes, taking the tape off, sitting with his chest. It's a necessity though, for his well-being, despite the discomfort it brings. And James always does everything within his power to make it easier for him. He knows he can't fix everything, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to.

Regulus reaches back, his palm sliding from James' elbow to his hand beneath his shirt, their fingers intertwining at his stomach. Their faces are so close that Regulus' cheek drags against James' as he turns his head, planting a soft kiss on James' cheek. "I do, I feel okay. I promise," he murmurs, giving James a warm smile.

Leaning back into James' frame, Regulus lets his weight settle comfortably against him. "You make it easier," he breathes out, words floating into the space between them. Another kiss, "Thank you. I love you."

James holds him a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, heart swelling just a little bit more. "I love you too."

#i wonder if the transphobes in my inbox realize that all that they accomplish is motivating me to write more trans reg sooo #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #marauders #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders fanfic #james x regulus

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shuugumi · 8 months

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❥ "𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄?"

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: gojo satoru is admitted into the hospital after a deadly accident when out on a mission. you, his wife, rushes over and something…heartbreaking happens.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: amnesia, hospital, gojo x reader, angst(?), 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, established relationship, 1k653wc

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something for the best boy after these manga leaks. akutami you bitch!!!

right now you were running through the tokyo train station. the urgency to make your way to the hospital, thought after thought made you rush even more. “Please be okay..” you whispered to yourself as you got onto one of the train carts.

thankfully for the technological advancements, you were able to get to the hospital in no time. but you still rushed over. definitely gaining the attention of the other civilians.

“hi my husband, Gojo Satoru. was admitted into the hospital at uh—” you uttered, looking at your watch before telling the time when you got the phone call. “gojo-san is in surgery right now. you can sit in the lobby until he’s done.” the receptionist who looked like she didn’t want to be there said emotionless before showing the lobby. you sighed before sitting down on one of the cold metal chairs.

bouncing your leg nervously and unconsciously. you shouldn’t be bouncing your leg due to superstition reasons but in this case, it was the only thing that helped you. who cared who gave you werid looks. 貧乏ゆすり… the other visitors whispered under their breaths but you couldn’t help it. it didn’t help either when the claimed strongest sorcerer was in the hospital, getting a life depending surgery.

time passed and you swore you fell asleep just sitting in the chair. maybe the exhaustion from running from your school to the hospital finally caught up to you. but you were awoken by a woman lightly touching your shoulder. “excuse me? you’re here for gojo right?” she spoke softly and you desperately exhaled a “yes” and the nurse told you to follow her. there you were brought to his hospital room. “before we enter..he’s sleeping so you may want to be quiet..” the nurse spoke again and awiated for your nod before the nurse opened the door.

the sight was heartbreaking. he was attached to wires connected to many machines. his eyes were red and bruised. did he feel like this when i was in the hospital? you thought to yourself as you walked closer to the man who was in his slumber. the nurse excused themselves but told you to call them when he awoke..

“satoru…” you whispered under your breath as you grabbed a chair to sit over next to him. slowly and gently did you touch his hand, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. “i am glad they were able to do everything in the surgery and to help heal everything…what went wrong on the mission? but it doesn’t matter anymore..as long as your breathing i’ll take it.” you whisper as you rest your head on the edge of the hospital bed, swabbing your thumb on his hand.

“eh, i needed saving this time..” you heard that voice. the voice that you found to be your safe place rasph out, here and there coughing you jolted your head up. “satoru! you’re up!!” you exclaim, quickly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his chest.

“who-are you?”

the man who had just woken after god knows what spoke aloud. Immediately you looked up at him, “what do you mean?—” you said perplexed as you released your arms around from his shoulders, allowing distance between the two of you. you were still situated sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. “satoru? i am your wife…y/N?” your voice faltered as a shiver traveled down your spine and the crystal blue eyes man just stared at you with confusion and when you went to grab his hand he immediately pulled back there, you felt your heart crack.

“i- i don’t have a wife..” he spoke softly and you felt the two broken pieces of your heart shatter into a million more infinitesimal pieces. “satoru this isn’t something to joke about…” you reply rather sternly, still looking at a confused filled face. you sighed before getting up from the bed to call one of the nurses in.

“it seems that he suffered a severe brain injury, hence the foggy memory loss..there isn’t much that we could do but what i may suggest is that, you can show him pictures of significant memories? like a wedding day picture. things that will spark these foggy memories?” the nurse mused before she went to type something on the computer that was in the room.

your heart sank at the words the nurse said. tears had begun infiltrating the surface of your face. nerves tingle at the thought of everything you built with the man who currently laid in the hospital bed was demolished in his head. as the nurse finished up the hourly report and excused herself, leaving the two of you alone. you sat in one of the empty chairs that was in the room, sitting with your head down and the palms of your hands joining each other resting in your lap. “mrs?” the nurse called out, gaining your attention and you stood up. “we’re gonna run some more tests on him to see if there are any other underlying conditions…if you could, give us a few minutes.” the nurse said rather happily and you took a step outside the room.

when you took that step outside, everything came crashing down. trying your absolute best to keep your composure in and out of the hospital room finally came undone when you weren’t in the same room with your husband.

y/N?” a familiar voice exclaimed and wrapped their arms around your shoulders as you blubbered into them. “y/N what happened? is satoru okay?” the man asked and all you did was shake your head and held the man closer and tighter. “kento..satoru—he doesn’t remember me.” you shout into his chest which had already gained a big wet spot in place of your face.

“what do you mean he doesn’t remember you?” he says, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look at him. "he’s taking tests right now…i can show you after…”

“you’re able to go and visit him again!” another nurse who exited out of satoru’s hospital room beamed with a smile. “come on.” you blurt walking into the room to see satoru sitting down comfortably, taking small sips of seaweed soup. “gojo.” nanami stated, starting satoru from his meal. “woah! nanami you came to see me!—eh that same lady is also here too..”

“that ‘lady’ is your wife satoru.” nanami clarified before taking a steps closer to satoru and his bed. “pft—that’s what they all said too…but i don’t remember having a wife…” satoru side eyed you before looking back at nanami. “she’s out of my league…no ways she would settle for less..” he then added with a breathless sigh.

you stood back, listening to the two exchange words when you heard him saying, “she must be someone elses wife…they hit that jackpot that’s for sure..” and it made you laugh at his words. you knew that this other “man” he could have been thinking of was a actual other man but actually, the man laying in the hospital is the one who hit the jackpot.

excusing yourself and taking a step outside of the room, you brought your phone out and opened the photo app. maybe show him a picture that could spark the memory of you two? and as you scrolled through your ablum of photos with satoru you landed on one that made you unconsciously smile ear to ear.

the photo was when the two of you vacationed in hawaii. the first time the two of you were able to spend time away from work; the first ever stress free vacation. the photo displayed the two of you taking a selfie on the shore line in waikiki. the golden hour of the sun hitting your slightly reddish skin from the sunburn with a yellow hibiscus behind your left ear. satoru holding the phone with the same sly smirk that he always worn whenever he was with you.

could it really work? you thought to yourself as single tears dropped from your eyes to the screen of your phone. clutching the phone close to your heart you collected yourself before walking back into the room.

“satoru?” his name rolled off your tongue smoothly and it caught his attention; you walked closer to him before showing him your phone with the photo displayed on it. “—that’s me…and is that…you?” satoru spoke with confusion in his voice, you nod, “yes that’s me and you…my name is y/N, do you remember what happened during that vacation?” satoru pricked his lips as he looked from the phone back to you, to the phone, back to you and so forth.

“you proposed to me right after we took that photo…” informing him and as he processed your sentence, he lips turned into an o shake. his face heating up and his cheeks became a slight tinge of red. “i…proposed to you? so i am the man who hit the jackpot?” he exclaimed, grabbing the phone from your hand and bringing it closer to his face. doing the same motions of looking from the phone then back to you, repeating.

laughing at his sentence, you nod once more. “yes you are silly. you’re the man who hit the jackpot…” you say as you push loose strands of his white locks behind his ear. “you’re favorite color is green…and you’re allergic to cats..” satoru whispers out, the shock took your breath away. he does remember certain things about you.

“looks like we’re getting him back.” nanami commented, startling you as you forgot he was even in the room with the two of you. “i am gonna be taking care of you…and also helping you restore your memories of us.” you declared as you grabbed one of satorus’ hands and bringing it up to kiss the top side of his hand.

“i l love you, satoru.”

#୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ shuugumi #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen

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aswaki · 2 months

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don't worry sunbaenim [smt x reader]

seok matthew x reader | 2.3k word count | explicit (minors dni)

“you caught matthew masturbating with your panties at the recording booth”

contains: fem!reader, sub!matthew, idol au, masturbation (matthew), voyeurism, stealing panties, smut - p in v sex, clothed sex, pussy drunk (matthew), pet names ("babe", "baby", "good boy")

if you told your trainee self that you'd catch your senior fucking his dick into his hand with your panties wrapped around it, your past self would've laughed.

you'd think that your senior could never possibly be doing something as lewd as that. he was so sweet, helpful, and adorable that you even developed a teeny tiny crush on him. you knew everyone would dream of being in the same company with someone like him.

a perfect gentleman, that's what he was. it seemed like you were wrong as you stood in front of the glass of the recording booth.

in his full glory, you could see seok matthew masturbating himself using the panties you lost just this morning.

his sweatpants were lowered just enough to reveal his perfect cock. thick and veiny. it even had cum leaking out of it already. the view made your stomach flip on sight.

he still had not noticed you. he kept rubbing his cock against your panties, sliding it along the garment smoothly. his hand moved a rhythm only he could hear, causing his hips to move back and forth in time. he enjoyed knowing this was wet with your fluids. this was the nearest he could go with you. he was so lost in the pleasure. you even could hear his needy moans through the speakers. his sounds were filling the studio room.

poor boy even had the mics on.

you almost didn't want to interrupt. he looked so fucking good with his hands around his dick while your soiled panties were an accessory to his perverseness. his head was resting on the back of the swivel chair inside the booth. his mouth released sounds that got you worked up. it was almost hypnotic to see how he was on action.

you came forward to the control panel. after pressing a button that would allow you to talk to him inside the recording booth, you let out a breath through the mic.

matthew opened his eyes in panic. his hand went to a halt in his shaft. he thought he was alone.

he looked up and saw you standing behind the glass. he released his cock immediately which was all angry and throbbing after being dropped so easily. your panties flopped down to his thighs.

“when you said you wanted to have lunch, i didn't think you meant this.” you told him through the microphone. for the most part, matthew looked like a deer caught in the headlights. he did looked ashamed for getting caught.

“i can explain myself,” he started, using his sticky hands to push himself off the chair to stand. his cock was still out of his pants. he didn��t even hide how visibly aroused he was.

you rushed inside the recording booth, pressing buttons on the control panel to stop the speakers & microphone. you left the bags of food you had with you on the couch in the studio.

you approached matthew. placing your hands on his shoulders, you pushed him back down on the chair.

“you know, i thought i was just imagining things when i felt someone spying on me in the practice room.”

matthew looked like he was about to try to explain himself once more so you placed a finger on his lips.

“even got more crazed when i noticed the underwear i wore during practice was gone after i showered,” you said as you stared down at matthew. his eyes tried to stay on your face but it kept dancing over your body. he couldn't help himself; not when you were closely hovering over him.

“who would have thought it was just with you, sunbaenim?” you pulled your finger away from his lips and used it to stroke his cheek. “it is flattering, honestly.”

matthew gulped. he was embarrassed by the situation and he even more embarrassed that he found this hot.

he had passed by you earlier when you were dancing alone at the practice room.

when you debuted as an idol shortly after he did, you didn’t have time to hang out like you used to. things went by from preparations to practicing to appearances. the usual idol works.

this was the only time your schedules had lined up perfectly for months. the both of you didn’t hesitate to arrange a meet up after your practices.

matthew could see that you had on tiny shorts and a sports bra through the door. your sexy body was on full display, just for him.

you had moved to the rhythm expertly— ass shaking, tits moving— could you even blame him he was turned on simply by watching you practice?

his hand had started to wander down his sweatpants. he stayed there for quite a while, just watching you. his heart raced when you stripped in the middle of the practice room before heading to the bathroom attached to the place. you unknowingly gave him a beautiful view of your ass. even when you left to shower, he was still there groping himself.

matthew knew it was wrong but his body moved before his morals settled to him. he had swiftly went inside and grabbed the panties you left discarded. it was wet. probably mixed with your sweat and juices. he lifted it to his nose, inhaling your scent. desire ran through his body.

he pocketed it before going to the studios to do his own practice. he hoped he wouldn’t bump into anyone on the way there. the bundled up fabric inside his pockets weighed heavy, like it was some kind of illegal device.

you had invaded his system during his solo training. he couldn’t focus. he had your panties and he sniffed it. that's when he decided to jerk himself with it.

now, he was looking at you with eyes filled with shame. underneath it all, you found what you’ve been looking for.

lust.

“don’t worry, sunbaenim. you can have your lunch now. don’t you want to try the real thing?” you whispered to his ear before standing up straight. you didn't mind in indulging him. you quickly discarded the leggings you were wearing. you had on an off-the-shoulder bodysuit left. it was crotchless.

matthew nodded, mouth drying at the sight of your exposed cunt.

sure. of course. he was excited. he wanted the real thing. he wanted your pussy so much. he looked almost too boyish with his eagerness.

you came closer to him to sit down on his meaty thighs. your panties on his lap fell to the floor but the both of you ignored it. your attention was on the feeling of your pussy on his thigh. the fabric of his sweatpants hit your clit. it made the both of you shiver.

your hands wandered to massage his exposed balls. matthew groaned as soon as he felt you there. you weren’t satisfied, though. “you can do better than that, sunbaenim! use your words.” you scolded him as your hold on his balls became more firm. the honourific sounded so patronizing.

he let out a yelp before nodding once more. “okay, okay. baby, i want you.” you kissed his jaw. your fingers trailed from his balls up to his shaft as he continued to speak, “god, you’re so hot. want your pussy on my cock. want you to ride me.”

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you murmured on his jaw, still peppering his jaw as well as his neck with kisses. you preened at his compliment so you gave him a squeeze as a reward. you felt his dick twitch underneath your fingers.

matthew was anticipating every second that passed by. his chest rose underneath his compression shirt. it even clung to him more like it was second skin due to his sweat. (the air condition in the studio didn't do anything to stop the perspiration.)

you almost tore your hair off at how hot he was.

you lifted yourself away from him then moved yourself closer to his erect cock. for a moment, his wet cockhead touched your labia. matthew whimpered at the feeling. his tip pressed against you before you slowly sunk yourself to him. it wasn’t that difficult when the two of you were wet already.

your tight pussy gripped his cock as he penetrated you. it felt as if you were molding into his shape, wrapped around the ridges and veins of his cock. your face pinched in pain because of his size but quickly got overridden by pleasure.

finally, a satisfied sigh left your lips as you sunk down even lower on his cock which was now almost all the way inside of you.

“fuck, i love how it feels to be in you. s- so good.” matthew sputtered out as he was breathing heavily. his hands had a mind of its own as he impatiently grabbed your hips and tried to rock you.

“who said you could touch me? you sharply asked him, as your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair. you slightly raised yourself as if to threateningly remove your body away from his.

he moaned out your name. matthew did not have time to feel pathetic. not when all he wanted to do was to chase your pleasures and he was so close now. (he was literally in you.)

“no one. i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he apologized so fast. he wanted to feel your warm walls fully again. you loosened your grip on his hair and gave in to what he wanted, anyway.

you went back down. his cock fully inside you now and you started to ride him. you swirled your hips on him. his size stretched you out so deliciously it made you moan.

“this is what you want, babe?” his breath hitched when you called him babe. matthew grew slightly dizzy at the feel of your wetness coating his shaft and your walls sucking him in.

he let out unintelligible sounds of pleasure as you moved your hips. you could not get enough of him. you kissed him to drink up his moans. he reciprocated it instantly; his lips parting to invite you in. your fingers tangled into his hair as you made out. you grinded to his cock with expert precision.

“look at you, can’t even form a sentence. got dumb on me already?” you didn’t expect him to be underneath your control this quick. you knew he was close. now this was what you expected since he was already hard when you came in.

“you can move too,” you gave him permission and he didn’t waste a second to buck his hips feverishly unto you. what a good boy.

your hands went to his shoulder for support. silently, you hoped the swivel chair wouldn't give up under the sharp actions from the both of you. you bounced on matthew, impaled on his erection. your tits were rising and falling in front of his eyes before you resumed the lip locking.

“could do this for hours. your pussy feels great around me.” matthew whimpered through your kisses. his needy voice fueled you.

“there’s no need to be quiet. i turned off the sound system and locked the doors. unlike you, i wasn’t a fool.” you replied to him as his cock continued to explore your insides. “unless, you wanted someone to walk in on you to hear you be so desperate for your junior?”

he closed his eyes, accepting your taunts. he was feeling hot and tight— so close.

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? appear as the kind senior who takes care of his junior in every way possible?”

the smell of sex filled the air. you could see how matthew’s breaths became more laboured and his thrusts became more frantic. his hair became matted on his forehead because of his sweat.

“close,” matthew groaned as warning. that was all he could say. all he could think about was your pussy and nothing more. his groin began to tighten, signaling that he was going to cum.

“i c- can’t… i’m about to…”

“cum on my tits, babe” you nodded in acknowledgement. you knew how desperate he was. you weren’t feeling particularly cruel today. you'll let him cum [first]... but not in you... no. not yet.

the whole thing happened fast. matthew pulled his cock out of you in spite of not wanting to leave the heated space of your beautiful pussy. you slipped off him. you clutched his cock in your hand after you pushed down your body suit to reveal your tits.

“don’t hold back. be a good boy and scream my name,”

and it wasn’t long before he began to cum. you held on to his shaft as you directed his cock towards your boobs. he spurted out thick streams of white fluid.

like the obedient boy that he was, matthew moaned your name as loudly as he could when his climax happened. it felt like his whole body was being ripped apart by an invisible force. it was music to your ears.

you made sure that every drop of cum landed on your tits. some of it clung on to your erect nipples. you thought it looked pretty on you. (matthew was thinking of the same thing.)

the netizens would definitely freak out if they ever knew how submissive matthew was and how depraved you were in gratifying him.

you bent down to kiss cock. ready to go to another round of actually having it in your mouth. you were hungry and this was going to be your meal.

“mmm, that was nice, sunbaenim. wouldn’t want a pregnancy scandal, would you?”

a/n: what song was matthew practicing in the vocal studio? lmao hehe happy weekend! hope you enjoyed! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

divider credit: saradika-graphics

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fayes-fics · 11 months

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Eager

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Anthony introduces his wife to a new way to bring him pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (f to m), blow job, deepthroat, slight choking, cum swallowing, female masturbation.

Word Count: 1.1k

Authors Note: Anon request fill from HERE. Err, this is pure filth. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy Anon <3

The inability to breathe makes you a touch lightheaded, but you don’t protest; you just stay there, obediently knelt before him, hands behind your back, mouth full of him: your husband, Viscount Bridgerton. A week into your marriage, he summons you to his private study and says he needs your mouth immediately; you are only too eager to oblige. So here you are, your knees cushioned by the luxurious wool rug in his study, doing as bidden.

He hisses approvingly, one hand grasping your hair almost painfully as he rocks deep, his cock so overwhelming in its strength and size, his thatch of hair tickling your nose as he groans and shudders, tells you to stay, tells you that you were made for him. He has never done this before; in previous times when he has asked for your mouth, he has let you set the pace and explore. This is something different as he takes command.

Your eyes blink away tears as you attempt to breathe through your nose, but it’s not quite enough. He wrenches back out of you, allowing you to take deep, ragged relieving breaths, saliva roping over your chin. Before he thrusts back in almost immediately, deep, groaning hard as his blunt tip invades the narrowness of your throat, and he raggedly compliments how good you are at this, his hands wrapping around the sides of your head, his thumbs pressed into the divot under your cheekbones.

“Suckle me, darling,” he instructs and holds still.

It is your cue to move, and you do, hollowing your cheeks and moving up and down his shaft in the way he taught you laying in bed on your wedding night, but this time you sense he needs more, something more intense. You allow the tip to remain between your lips, then plunge deeper than you ever have before, pressing with your tongue as you use all the suction you can. He takes up so much of your mouth; you barely have room to shield your teeth, his taste tangy and salty as he leaks precum onto your tastebuds with each pass, making affirmative noises that signal his pleasure.

“Look at me,” he commands softly as you suck him deep. You tilt your head up and meet his gaze. “Oh fuck,” the curse slips from his plush lips, “you look so pretty, eyes watering just for me.” A lightly calloused thumb sweeping the corner of your eye, dabbing your tears, his fingers curling into the hair behind your ears.

Then he takes over again, his grip around your head increasing as he slides as deep as he can, allowing you a breath every few strokes. You are shocked at how much this turns you on. A trickle down your inner thigh, a throb around your clit that you long to touch. But he commanded your hands behind your back, so that is how you stay, eager to please him. You are overheating from the roaring fire next to you and his actions, longing to strip off your clothes and be naked for him.

“Are you aroused by this wife?” he asks breathily; you nod as best you can. “Touch yourself for me then,” he orders, so you scramble to hitch up your dress and moan around him as you plough into your soaked slit.

He growls at the sensation as you start to ride your fingers in earnest, sliding off his cock a little to take a breath, then back to where you were, nose against his body, inhaling his spicy scent that is all Anthony.

“Make yourself come, wife. I want to feel you scream around me,” his command rumbling and deep.

You never thought what happens between a husband and wife would be like this. So primal. And you can't get enough. Whimpering around him, drunk on sensation as you circle your clit, letting your other hand join between your legs, sliding two fingers inside your cunt as you writhe. The gentle sound of wetness fills the air as you finger yourself.

“God, I can hear that,” he snarls, impressed.

You pull back just enough to take a shuddering breath around him, then resume your position as you ride your hand, flexing your hips slightly and gurgling his name around his cock.

“Stop!” He commands, and you do, halfway down his shaft, tilting up at him expectantly. “Give me your fingers.”

You pull one of your hands out from between your legs and offer it to him. He grabs your wrist and guides your fingers into his hot mouth, sucking hard and groaning, his cock pulsing against your tongue as he showers compliments about your taste.

Then it's a frenzy of movement as he thrusts into you again, your pleasure mounting with each flex of your fingers. You try to keep your head still, but you are squirming on your hand as you climb higher, the way his cock throttles your breath, ratcheting you higher, faster. He is grunting now, and every time you moan, his fingernails scrape your scalp, where he holds your head tightly. Then you are reaching your peak, screaming around him, your pussy clenching hard on your fingers, your whole body convulsing, each cell feeling like it is, fracturing as you break, fighting hard for each breath you can take. He groans deeply, a litany of praise and curses and then his hips are stuttering; he curls bodily over you as you feel a wave of motion in his cock, then a salty taste sliding down your gullet as he comes so hard, his grip on your hair almost painful. You swallow on instinct, unable to do so anything else.

Before you know it, Anthony has pulled out of your mouth, and he slumps backwards against his desk. You stay on your knees, recovering your breaths, the intense salty, bitter flavour of his seed still strong on your tongue and lips.

“Darling wife,” he sounds winded as he reaches out a hand that you take gingerly. He hauls you up bodily into his arms, bearing your weight as you lean into him and twine your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you,” he sighs into your ear as you embrace tightly.

“You are welcome, husband,” you respond croakily, your throat scratchy but feeling so very sated, still quivering slightly from your orgasm.

“I am so lucky to have you,” he murmurs, which makes you smile demurely into his neck, where you bury your face, inhaling his comforting scent until he pulls you away to look him in the eye. “Now, how about you take off your dress, and I will show you how you can sit upon my face, and I can bring you even greater pleasure?” he hums with a handsome smile and a twinkle in his dark eyes.

You almost rip your dress in your eagerness.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

#anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton

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number1mingyustan · 1 year

Text

- Cuffing Season-

Your Mouth

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, kissing, cursing, explicit smut, oral (m.), size kink, y/n is lowk a menace

Summary: You know just the right thing to pick your boyfriend up when he’s down

Word Count: 1.2k

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The door slams shut behind Mingyu as he enters your shared apartment. You peak your head out of your study, startled by the sudden loud noise.

“Baby?” you call. “Is that you?”

“Yeah it’s me,” he calls from the living room.

You can hear the frustration in his voice.

You slide your body off the rolling chair, standing up and making your way to your shared bedroom. He stands there, fumbling with his tie and growing more frustrated with each passing second.

You approach him silently, “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“ ‘m fine,” he denies, continuing to fumble with his tie. He’s visibly aggravated and you fear that if you don’t step in and he’ll him now, he’ll rip the material.

You place your hands on top of his softly. He drops his hands to his side allowing you to undo the tie yourself. “C’mon baby, I know something’s bothering you.” You drop the tie onto the ground.

He sighs. “We lost a huge deal today at the company, and I’ve been trying to close it for months. Someone on our side messed up a bunch of paperwork and they backed out of the deal instead of signing it. They were a huge potential customer and I just—“

He trails off as your hands begin unbuttoning his white shirt. “What are you doing?”

“Listening,” you reply, continuing to undo the buttons.

“No you’re not,” he defends. “You’re—“

You cut him off, handing fumbling with his belt. "I'm listening to you Gyu," you say simply, dropping the leather belt onto the ground. "Talk to me."

You drop to your knees, pulling his pants down to his ankles. He looks down at you. Fuck, you look even smaller on your knees. He can already feel himself growing hard in his boxers. He hesitates before he begins speaking again. "It's just really frustrating because I put so many hours into that deal and...."

He trails off when you begin palming him through his boxers. He tips his head back and lets out a quiet moan. "Baby..."

"I'm all ears Gyu," you say, pulling his boxers down to his ankles causing his semi-heard cock to spring up. "Said you're frustrated because of all the hours you put in and what?"

He blinks at you a few times silently. You little minx. You spit on your hand, providing lubricant before you start stroking him. Your hands are so small, even with both of them you don't cover the entirety of his length. He's just too big.

He's in a dazed state, looking down at you and watching as you stroke his cock. He's already leaking precum onto your fingers, growing more and more turned on as you pleasure him.

"Gyu," you say, looking up at him with batting eyelashes.

"Hmm?"

"You were saying something about why you're frustrated? Put in all those long hard hours and..?" You smirk, feigning innocence.

"Y-Yeah, just feels like I wasted so much–fuck!" He interrupts himself again as you wrap your perfectly glossed lips around his cock. This time, he completely loses his train of thought with you as the only thing filling his mind.

You release his cock from your mouth with a ‘pop’ before spitting onto your hand and stroking him. You feel him growing harder on your palm, practically drooling as it grows to its full length before your eyes.

He's so big and your tiny hands are not nearly enough to give him the relief you know he needs. You tease him, just a little bit, swiping your tongue across the sensitive head of his cock.

He lets out a hiss.

You smirk, taking the head of his cock into the small hole of your mouth. You take him further down your throat, allowing the tip to touch the back of your throat. The weight of his cock is heavy on your tongue. Even with his cock hitting the back of your throat, his length still doesn’t fit in your mouth.

Mingyu is big. You’re stroking the base of his with your small hand while gagging on the tip. Your saliva is coating the entirety of his length and it’s absolutely filthy.

Mingyu stands above you, head tilted back and moaning as he loses himself in the warmth of your mouth. You’re sucking jus dick so well, like always. You bob your head, thrusting his cock further down your throat.

He smirks as you gag and struggle to take all of him. You look so small on your knees beneath him. Your plump lips are circled around his cock, beady eyes looking up at him with tears.

He licks his lips, placing a hand on top of your head. You allow him to use you, pushing your head to meet the thrust of his hips as he fucks your throat.

“Fuck baby,” he groans. “You’re insane… sucking my dick so good—fuck”

You stare up at him with watery eyes. He is so unbelievably hot. His long hair covers his face, eyes only peaking through to look down at you on your knees just for him.

You’re struggling, but determined nonetheless. You want to taste him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t turned on right now. Your panties are soaked from allowing him to thrust his cock into the depths of your throat, desperately fucking your mouth for his own pleasure.

He’s close already, moaning and whining needily as his thrusts grow sloppy. You’re breathing heavily through your nose with his cock down your throat. You speed up the movement of your hand, stroking the base of his length as your drool around him.

You take your other hand, massaging his balls, immediately sending him into overdrive. He lets out a loud grunt before you feel him twitch in your mouth. A thick, warm liquid spurts into your mouth and you swallow it all happily.

You release his cock from your mouth, continuing to suck on the tip as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm. He whines, pushing your head back as he starts to feel the effects of overstimulation. You release him from your mouth, looking up at him with a smile. You wipe your mouth with a dazed look in your eyes.

He stares down at you with a grin, hair messy, skin shining with sweat, and flushed skin. He needed that, so bad. With all the stress he’s been under, you knew just the thing to relieve him.

He’s so happy to have you.

“You,” he smiles. “Are absolutely incredible baby. I have no words.”

You smile back with a goofy grin. “Glad I could help.” He wipes your eyes with his thumb before helping you to your feet. You help him redress and he plants a kiss on your forehead.

The two of you wash up before making yourself comfortable on the couch. Mingyu offered to cook dinner, but you refused, ordering takeout instead and putting on a movie to watch.

Unfortunately Mingyu knocked out 10 minutes before the food arrived. He’s snoring softly on the couch, large frame sprawled on the plush material, You smile to yourself, staring at his sleeping figure with adoration.

You grab a blanket, placing it over his sleeping frame. You wouldn’t dare to wake him up. He needs the rest almost as badly as he needed that blowjob. You plant your body in front of his on the couch after eating.

Even in a state of rest, he’s got open arms for you. The two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, in a state of deep slumber, holding one another and awaiting what the next day has to offer.

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#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu drabbles #seventeen mingyu #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu #kpop #cuffing season

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sukunasun · 1 year

Note

Halloween is over but what are your thoughts on ghostface jjk man x chubby reader? 👀

tw dub-con / knifeplay

its more than just being the final girl—watching you behind a cheap mask he's bought. for hours, for days, over the course of long, long, months. hiding in dark corners, and hidden spaces—the things he's planned aren't to be wasted on some brutal, violent death. stabbing and slashing. because as you lay on soft pillows and pressed sheets, curves and folds on display, so oblivious, so unassuming...he's dying to sink more than just a knife into all that flesh.

not to hurt you of course, but what is he to do when he's got killer instinct and your body was made to be held, fondled....claimed. there's only so much a man can resist.

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when geto asks "what are you wearing?" over the phone, his words hold some amusement to them, mocking. almost like he knows you're scared. yet somewhat ...mellow, trusting...and so hot it flays you, a heat traveling low and dipping in your stomach, fear and arousal jumbled up in one, searing in your belly.

your breath hitches at the sound of his muffled laugh crackling through the speaker. you could just indulge yourself in this little game he plays, no harm would ever come to you. this way, you could ignore the insecurities and the nerves. relish in anonymity. and every second you keep him waiting to expose you for the depraved thing that you are, getting wet and drooly over a stranger, a dark, mysterious, and very sexy stranger, you realize how pathetic, how cliched you're being. "i can hear how turned on you are..." he's so right it's embarrassing.

when he's looming above you the next day, there's no time wasted. he angles your toy against a sensitive spot and you feel it nudge and grind deep inside, keeps sliding it up and down your folds, "that's it, feel that? you should see how wet you are," your shaky thighs spread open, pussy sticky and gleaming with cum, so slick, so slippery, every pass of the toy on your slit jolting you closer to release.

"you don't want to kill me..." you say in a daze. turning your head to the side, you moan into the sheets, it's too much, your ghost caller watching you, playing with you, withholding and keeping you from reaching your peak. you know the things he could do...there's no need to see his face or learn his name to realise he's a little bit of a bully like that. teasing you, edging you, that you'd only come by his hand. beautiful gloved hands that are larger than two of yours put together.

"and why is that?" geto coos, wanting to wrap a fist around your exposed neck, untouched and unmarred, just waiting to be marked. you wish to tell him that you'd do anything, pleading for your life, but that coil in your stomach twists, adrenaline egging you on, allowing you to be a little bolder, "you need me...don't you? you need me to be yours," you whimper out the challenge. fingers reaching up to hook in between his mask and face, bringing him closer to you, before you press a kiss to where his mouth would be. feeling only hard plastic and his hot, sighing breaths underneath.

you see his shoulders tense, your toy dropping to the side of the bed, forgotten and whirring. he's left so stunned. and it's this that you earn—his lips barely forming a reply, no sly smirks or subtle jabs to your pride, just the sound of his ragged breaths that fill the room and the slick, measured pumps of his fist over his cock, thumb spreading the fluid that leaks, drools, literally pools over your stomach—"you have no fucking idea..." he groans, his resolve vanishing, his smugness stripped away the more you moan for him, why do you tease him so. these hairline cracks you'd spotted and split right down the middle with merely a gentle touch at where he's the weakest...geto's only so strong, frustrated at his own need for your willingness, your eager soft hands that trail up and down his biceps. who dares to pet a wild animal, reaching out without fear of getting trapped in sharp jaws.

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sukuna's not as weak. he's been on the hunt for years, trying to curb his appetite for murder with whatever nameless faces he deemed uninteresting, had them piled up and ready to be disposed of without so much as another glance. he's bored...terribly so, and starving, salivating, for the perfect kill. only now he thinks otherwise when a newfound purpose reveals itself in the shape of you.

if only you'd been careful, if only you'd been cautious. maybe then, you wouldn't be pinned below the stranger in a mask, the cold edge of his knife perched against the jugular as your jaw starts to bruise from his tight grasp. "im keeping you," he merely states, "you're gonna be mine forever, you hear me?" he start kissing the side of your face, sloppily, messily. you don't see his face but you imagine he'd look like a monster, with sharp teeth and a hundred eyes, maybe four or six hands the way he's gripping and touching you everywhere, trying to get his fill of you. his cock thick and large and splitting you in half, almost as if he had two.

"you don't have to do this," you sob, feeling another orgasm rock through you. you squeeze down on him, your slick coating everywhere. oh you smell like sweat and fear and he doesn't care one bit that tears stream down your face, swollen lips trembling. a face pressed into the pillows that bear a muddled expression.

under the weight of his hulking body from above, you know there's no way of escaping his clutches, your moans turn guttural, "i can't, it's too much..." you whine, hands coming up to push him away, to clutch at his chest behind you, tapping out from the overstimulation. he's rubbing against a spot so sensitive, pounding right into it. you think you'd go crazy, "please...i've been good..." you whine, voice pitching into a drawn-out moan, "been so good for you," pleading and pleading. you don't think it was the best choice of words, but in the haze of pleasure, you could only persuade him with obedience. with submission.

it does nothing to deter him from his ministrations, chuckling at the way your voice breaks, the way you look a mess, coming undone and staining your sheets, the thin line of blood dribbling from your neck. "just one more yeah?" he coos, "i know...i know it feels good, you're starting to fall in love with it aren't you?" he starts going faster, building to his climax, and you gasp in surprise when he shifts his position to collapse onto your back. his arms hugging you around the middle as he continues to jerk his hips erratically.

you don't say anything in return, but you do give in...teeth biting down on your pillow the moment your orgasm hits you, legs shaking and his spurting dick lodged deep inside you.

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gojo's completely obsessed. and you don't notice it at first because his personality covers up most of his hidden intentions, concealing that part of him that's been following your every move, trailing after you and waiting for a moment to strike...he gets personal because satoru's always been like that, needy, clingy, and he knows there's no need for the mask, you'd know it was him, but he likes it that way. relishes the moment you grapple with feeling betrayed by a man you trusted. says it's your fault really for being way too closed-minded. "what was it you said? that i wouldn't be into big girls?" he laughs, sounding crazed, frenzied.

"i thought you knew me better..." he tuts, keeps his hands busy in the meantime by wrapping rope around your wrists, weaving it across your tits, crisscrossing down your stomach, and circling around your thick thighs. his fingers knot and loop the bright red rope with practiced ease, making a pattern across your body with just the right amount of tension, just enough that it wouldn't cut into your skin...but he makes no promises.

stepping back, he tugs at the base of his rig above you, just for precaution, but he knows you'll stay right where you are for however long he wants. no, you're not gonna fall, he knows that's what you're thinking about despite it having to be the last of your priorities.

"look at you..." he marvels at his handiwork. your legs spread for him, feet dangling and having no leverage. with arms tied behind your back, he gets to see how lovely your tits look when spilling from beneath the rope, although...he'd say the best part is seeing his blindfold tied around your mouth as a makeshift gag.

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and choso's just...sweet isn't he..so keen, so restless. he promises he won't hurt you, he just wants a taste, to know what it feels like. and you'd dare him to but he's not made to kill and he knows it. it's why his knife stays loose and forgotten in his hand when he greets the sight of you behind a door left ajar.

the creaking hinge, his heavy boots, and the harsh pull of his breaths are all enough to send goosebumps rising. slow and measured, his feet come to a halt at the foot of your bed. he thinks you did it on purpose. doors and windows left unlocked and your curtains so sheer it's no wonder he's made to be an audience to your little peep shows every night. "you knew i've been watching you..." he whispers, realization hits—and surprisingly, you think you hear the petulance in his voice, like he was pouting. actually pouting.

and you see it first when he takes off the mask. face awestruck from watching you lay back, your eyes meeting his stare from between the swell of your breasts, your tummy, suddenly his face has a lot more life in it, dark circles meeting the reddening edge of his blushing cheek, pale lips wet and drooling, his tongue slipping past, inching closer. "please....please," is such a lovely sound when it slips past them, frenzied and feverish, words he can barely get a hold of before you feel it curling around your bones, wheedling its way into your heart, and squeezing tight. wanting to give in to the man who creeps from afar, who can't stop following and tracing your every move.

your eyes roll back when your folds part under the wet muscle, warm and slick. and it's not a secret by now that you're not as shy as you seem to be. he's mesmerized, transfixed. is this the same woman he's been spying on...always keeping to herself, getting her life together, with prim and proper clothing and a nine-to-five job...now wrapped in nothing but moonlight and presenting yourself to him, legs spreading to reveal the wet that sticks to your folds, hardening nub that twitches at your touch, at the circles and gentle flicks against your clit. your eyes stay fixed on his, wordlessly giving him permission almost as if you've been waiting for him. he wonders if it's just as long as he's been wanting you.

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dxckgrxsonx · 2 years

Note

Disrespectful Dick choking you and not letting you breathe until you cum for him 😮‍💨 I am thinking THOUGHTS

your thoughts have killed me. im dead. im asking for your hand in marriage.

Dick’s hand curls over your neck, his fingers pressing firm and unyielding against your throat. Every single thought in your head splinters apart when you try to inhale around the pressure, but the oxygen just drags thin and empty into your lungs; it's not enough.

He tightens his fist, only a fraction, but you practically hit the roof.

“Oh–” You gasp, chest heaving, words barely audible. “–oh fuck.”

“There you go.” Dick praises, grinding his hips up into the space between your legs. “There’s my good girl.”

Hands tied behind your back you tip your head away from Dick’s hand, trying to find a way to get something substantial into your chest. He follows your motion, sniggers and grins at the look on your face, halfway between pleading and utter bliss.

“No, no, baby. You can’t run from this.” He drawls, “You’ve got nowhere to go, tied up and sat on my cock. You’ve got to take it, you don’t have a choice.”

His fist loosens just a fraction and you hardly have the chance to inhale before he tightens it again, forcing you to work for even a scrap of breath. The rush of blood through your veins is deafening and you grind down, fuck yourself on Dick’s thick cock.

Using his free hand, Dick circles your wet, twitching clit with his thumb. The little nub throbs against the pad of his thumb and Dick smirks, his gaze dark and penetrating. He glances at your face, sees your shoulders flex when you tug at your restraints.

Whimpering as loud as you can, you barely manage to make it audible. Dick hears it but does nothing other than thrust up into your soaking pussy, cutting off the sound into a pitiful pleading moan.

Helpless.

You’re utterly helpless and he knows it.

“Love having you like this, baby.” Dick breathes, still strumming your aching clit with his thumb. “You look almost pathetic really, I mean look at you, you’re about to cry, aren’t you?”

Dick blurs before your eyes, his pretty face morphing into a watery splash of vague colours and shapes. Tears bubble up along your lower lashes and stream down your cheeks, throat working hard against his palm.

Shuddering in his lap you barely have the strength to lift your hips, have resorted to grinding desperately, rocking just enough to get his fat length hitting the right spots inside you. Your arousal leaks out around his cock, drooling over his full balls and smearing wet and sticky over his navel.

Letting you pull in another breath, Dick hums thoughtfully when you clamp around his cock, clit swelling and throbbing in warning.

“I’m not letting you breathe until you come.” He says, and his voice is wicked. “Does your cockdrunk brain understand that, baby? Come all over my cock and I'll let you breathe, ‘kay?”

Fighting against the bonds around your wrists you sob and try to say his name, but you can hardly think, thoughts swimming and shattering halfway up your throat.

“You’re not breathing until your wet little cunt squeezes my cock.” Dick growls, stuffing himself into your pussy, stretching you open. “I know you’re close, I can feel you getting tighter. Are you going to come or pass out first?”

Gasping open mouthed for breath that Dick won’t allow you to have, you convulse, pussy exploding and clamping down around his cock.

“There we fucking go.” Dick moans, releasing your throat immediately. “You dirty girl, only sluts come from being choked.”

You wail in response, voice raw and choked up, tears streaming down your cheeks, “Dick–ohmygod fuck.” You gasp for breath, head spinning. “I can’t–shit fuckfuckfuck–I can’t…”

His hand rests over your throat again, not squeezing, just resting there. Your pulse pounds hard enough that you’re convinced he can feel it.

“I think you can.” Dick says. “I think I can make you come again…I think you want to come again.” Rubbing tight circles on your clit he hums when you flinch. “It’s not like you can do anything to stop me with your hands tied behind your back anyway.”

“Please!” You try, unable to come down from your high with the way he keeps thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Pleasepleaseplease. Dick–baby–please.”

“I knew you wanted to come again, baby.” Dick grins, interpreting your pleas in the way that best benefits him. “Such a greedy little pussy.”

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson x you smut #dick grayson smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader smut #nighwing x you smut #nightwing smut #ella writes #asks #answered #anonymous

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kirarifutari · 1 year

Text

room for two. (jake x reader)

GENRE .. !? jake x reader, roommates, fluff

WARNINGS .. !? sfw! not proof read, rushed bc when is it not, sharing same bed trope, roommate trope, this is bad

WC ..?! aprox. 1.8k

SYNOPSIS .. ?! sharing a shitty apartment with anyone is a pain in itself but with sim jake that was another story, on the most impossible night to sleep, you shamefully knock on your roommates door, asking if there's room for two.

NOTES.. ?! funny story i probably rewrote this like 5 times trying to figure out an actual story line w roommate!jake but it literally still did not work so have this garbage... but if u enjoyed pls share reblog and like hehheehehe <3

You shuffle in your sheets, trying to find a comfortable position on your stale mattress.

Both sides of your allow were warm and your eyes just couldn’t keep closed. Twisting and turning some more didn’t help either. You checked the time, 01:43 AM. You bring a pillow to your face and let out a muffled groan.

Sleeping in your rundown little apartment was tough most nights, especially with the train line right next to your window coupled with the little droplets of rain you could feel from the window on rainy nights like this. But you were the one who chose this room for yourself, the other was perfectly fine, not amazing but anything was better than this room. The question is, why this one? Because you’re a push over and wanted to be a nice person. That’s why.

Joining a new college mid semester was a pain, and no one told you that all the dorms were full, practically leaving you begging for a roommate in some apartment, you didn’t really care how bad it was. (Well, you regret those thoughts a little now…)

There was only one person who was kind enough to offer you a space, he had already rented the apartment under his name and he was even offering you his room, claiming that the other wouldn’t be suitable for you.

While arranging the living situation, you texted Jake back assuring him a thousand times over that you were fine to take the smaller room, you were just grateful for him to have given you a space at all.

It’s true, you meant what you said. Jake was too nice of a person to push him out of his own room when he’d already been kind enough to share rent in the first place. But sharing an apartment with Jake was… more troubling than you thought.

When you first met him you didn’t expect him to be that pretty of a person. His sharp jawline and happy smile in harmony with the way his hair fell around his face, the cherry on top being his golden retriever like personality.

You wondered deep down how you were going to last living with practically your ideal type for at least the rest of the year.

Leaving you back ni your room, time now 01:46AM and you still couldn’t sleep, your eye twitching at the sound of a train passing through the neighbourhood. Your eyes scan the room again, your small desk and makeshift wardrobe, the thin walls and the strange brown circle right above your bed…

Wait.

You hadn’t noticed that before.

You sit up right, gazing at the patch that had formed on your ceiling, it seemed to be growing rapidly. Just as you were about to get up, grab your phone and inspect it with the lights on, a droplet of water fell on your forehead. No, it wasn’t coming from the window, you were sure of it because the droplets were coming hard and fast.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You mumble underneath your breath, bursting your door open and trying to grab a bucket from the bathroom as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb Jake in the next room over. Taking the bucket from beside the shower and bringing on top of your bed, you place it directly underneath the leak.

Which also happened to be directly under where you were supposed to sleep for the night.

You were stumped. It was too late at night to get up and do something to waste time and too early to tough it out till the morning. You’d barely gotten an hour of sleep at this point.

You chew your lip as you go over the options in your head.

1.Sleep on your rooms molded, squeaky wooden floor with no blankets too… yours were getting a little wet now.

2. Knock on Jakes door, swallow all your pride, and ask for some spare blankets and sleep on his floor.

You were seriously considering a third option of flushing yourself down the toilet, but you knew the option A was just as bad as staying up until the sun rose, knowing you’d get no sleep either way. The couch was out of the question too, it would probably give you scoliosis if you tried laying down to sleep on it.

You sucked in a breath. You needed your sleep… this was going to be the only way, besides what's Jake going to do? Reject you? What’s the worst that could happen…

Throwing on a hoodie over your tank top you make the walk of shame out of your room, and gently knock on Jake’s door, praying to get this over with quickly.

At first you thought you heard nothing, knocking gently again, you get a small hum in response. You feel your cheeks heat up at his deep voice. You open the door handle to a bleary eyed Jake with messy bed hair, hunched over his bedside table as he turned on his lamp. Jake’s room was nice, much better than your own with space for a double bed and a built in closet.

“Hey, what are you doing up? You should get some rest, go back to sleep bunny.” He covered his yawn slightly, leaving you standing there, stupidly trying to get out the right words to explain your situation.

“Sorry to wake you up,” You start slowly, Jake starting to look more awake now. “But the um, the ceiling it started leaking.” He tilted his head in question over this. “Over my bed and I uh, don’t have anywhere else to sleep, could you lend me some blankets maybe? I-I could sleep on your floor…” You mentally slap yourself for stuttering like an idiot asking him a simple question.

Jake looked more awake now but still seemed to be processing everything you just said.

“You want to sleep on my floor?” You wanted to hide from embarrassment, was that seriously all he got out of your little proposal?

“Uh, yeah if that’s okay… we both know how gross mine is.” You laugh a little to fill out the awkward air. Jake is sat up right on his bed now, humming to himself as he puts his head on the headrest.

He rolls his head towards you, making sharp eye contact as he gives you his usual puppy like smile.

“There’s room for two in here you know?” He looks at you as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world to your problems, the 1+1 = 2 to your dilemma. You widen your eyes at him to which he only chuckles, shuffling over and flipping up the blanket to invite you in.

So he wasn’t kidding.

This wasn’t a little Jake ‘gotcha I’m such a prankster lol!’ moment, this was him seriously offering to sleep in the same bed. You were sure he was delirious.

“Don’t make me wait for you forever, I have sleep to catch up on bunny.” He raises an eyebrow at you which snaps you out of yoru daze, almost jumping as you slowly close the door behind you and take padded footsteps towards his bed.

You could not believe you were doing this right now.

Gently you sit on his bed and shuffle to lie down, pulling the sheets over yourself. Jake got comfortable pretty quick turning away from you and seemingly fell back asleep within seconds, but you just lied there staring at the ceiling, questioning whether the moldy floor would’ve allowed a more peaceful sleep than this.

Of course, his sheets smelled exactly like him, and the way he looked when he was sleeping as adorable, all curled up with tiny light snores escaping his lips. You squeeze your eyes shut and consider getting out, knowing there’d be no way you were falling out of consciousness this close to your roommate. But your escape plans rendered useless, a heavy arm locking the route out and trapping you close to his chest. You let out a small sharp gasp, even you could barely hear it yourself, but you were so sure that you could feel Jake smiling against your shoulder.

Your breathing slowed and your hearts pacing matched his, your eyelids felt heavy and you finally felt yourself drifting off into unconsciousness. A warm fuzzy feeling keeping you smiling in your sleep.

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The sunlight gently wavered over your face and an unfamiliar light breeze drifting through the the curtains allowed your eyes to flutter open once again. A split seconds worth of panic arose in you as you noticed the pale white bed sheets and the strange soft mattress. Your surroundings felt all too… nice, you quickly remembered the events of last night and you sighed in relief, only to be swallowed in panic again once you noticed Jake was not sleeping beside you. You looked at the time: 9:30AM.

Although you were thankful it was a Saturday, it felt odd to be up this later, stranger yet in Sim Jake’s bed… without Sim Jake.

“Oh the bunny’s awake, morning sunshine.” Jake’s voice startled you form the doorway. He leaned onto the door frame, sipping a cup of coffee in hand and giving you a warm smile. You were dumbfounded at how casual he was about everything, but then again you weren’t going to deny that that was the best sleep you’ve had in months.

“How long have you been up?” You questioned him.

“Hmm, maybe since 8? I didn’t want to wake you up, you were sleeping so peacefully.” You blush at this, knowing that he’s seen what you look like sleeping gave you that feeling of intimacy that dwelled inside of you.

“You should’ve woken me up… I feel bad for taking up your space.” You heard Jake chuckle at this, he shook his head, allowing his messy hair to fall over his eyes again.

“You keep saying that, but we share the rent to this place together, don’t worry about it.” You hum at him, suddenly feeling self conscious under his gaze, clad in a hoodie and pyjama shorts, your hair probably a mess as you try and smooth it out.

You cough, “So are you gonna call someone to fix the leak? I can call up the landlord of you want me to.” You break your eye contact from him for a moment.

“No.” He replies flatly, causing you to look back up at him in confusion. “You should sleep in here more often.”

You feel your face go hot again, mouth falling open in an attempt to say something, but Jake had already gotten out of the doorway with a small smirk and a wink.

Leaving you in his sheets,

Time: 9:35AM.

#ser writes !#jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #jake fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen jake #lost my sanity writing for roommate jake like 8 times before posting this lol

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echantedtoon · 2 months

Text

Ban-Banned

As the janitor of the facility you sometimes clean up the cells where they kept the creatures. You never paid them attention until one started talking back to you.

As the janitor of the facility you sometimes clean up the cells where they kept the creatures. You never paid them attention. You were more interested in going in, doing your job, and then going home at the end of the day just to case in your paycheck at the end of the week. You didn't care what these scientists are doing and it wasn't any of your business so you just kept your head where it belonged and just did what you were paid to do, which was to clean. But that made it hard to do when THOSE things started to be shoved into their cells. They always made messes. Mostly tossing around objects, breaking things, and leaking whatever it was that green ooze was.

You thought you heard the scientists call it givanium or something along those lines but you never bothered to pay too much attention to it. You were only paid to clean around here and nothing else. Which included going into those cells when the scientists took out their experiments and getting them cleaned up before they put the creatures back inside. On one such day it was business as usual. One of the scientists (Doctor Weaverly you think) brought out one of those creatures, the one that looked like a giant frog thing and you were tasked with cleaning out his cell before he came back. It wasn't too bad. At least this creature didn't leave a trail behind it like that snail thing did. It was a quick job wheeling your cart over and beginning the familiar process of sweeping, mopping, and then taking your spray bottle and cloth to start wiping at the giant reinforced window looking into the cell. Your boss's always stressed to you the importance of making sure these windows were clean at all times to allow the scientists and security clear view of the creatures. You were just wiping at the glass when you heard it for the first time.

"Hey. You."

You paused before looking around the cell. No one was in here with you.

"Look across the hall."

You looked through the window at the other side of the hall and nearly passed out from what you looked at eye to eye. A red humanoid creature was staring at you from the cell just across from you, one hand pressed against the glass and dark eyes blinking at you. You stared at it stunned and...Were those party hats on it's head?? It knocked lightly on the glass making you jump and drop the cloth in your hand.

"Can you tell me what time it is?"

You stared at it stunned before looking away. "It's near noon."

That's it. That's all you said. Keeping to your rule of do not engage and ignoring it in favor of finishing wiping the window. It didn't say anything else but you felt it watching you the entire time before you finished cleaning the other side of the window and walked away quickly just as they were bringing the frog thing back. One of your coworkers must've noticed your spooked look because he laughed.

"So you met Banban?"

You ended up looking at him. "Banban?...What the heck is that?"

He gestured back down the hallway you came from. "The red thing down there. I heard one of the head docs themselves donated his own DNA for it. Can you believe that? That's just asking for trouble."

You again said nothing as you just carted off. It wasn't any of your business anyways. The next time it spoke to you, you were again just doing your job three weeks later. In fact you had forgotten mostly about it since you really didn't bother to think about it often. It was none of your business after all. Leaving your push bucket nearby and just mopping up the givanium slime trail that snail thing left behind as they took it out of it's cell for some reason. It was disgusting and one of the least things you wanted to do.

"You don't look like you're having fun." You again jumped and looked up at the cell you were passing. The red thing was again looking at you from the window. It tilted it's head at your startled face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I just couldn't help but notice your expression."

You blinked before just going back to dunk your mop back into the water and plopping it back onto the floor. "Well you try cleaning up this gunk every time that snail goes through here."

"I take it that you don't like it?"

"What do you think?"

"....I see you down through here a lot. A lot more than some of my coworkers really." Coworkers?? Was that what he was calling his fellow monsters?? "You're doing a good job taking care of all of the experiments."

"Yeah? At least someone seems to appreciates the work I do." You rolled your eyes at this.

"I know there's lots of janitors in the facility considering how large it is, but you're the only one I've seen who comes down here."

"No one else wants to." You scrubbed a little harder at the slime trail. The thing's cell was even harder to clean up with all the slime built up in there but of course you had to be the one to clean it up. "*Sigh* Don't understand why I couldn't have just gotten a job upstairs cleaning the kitchen or play center."

"Do you want a transfer? Not sure if that's in my power but I'll definitely look into getting you a raise for all the underappreciated work you do."

That actually had you snorting and looking back at him. "Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?"

"I'm surprised that you didn't recognize me. I should be very recognizable..." He shrugged. "Then again I suppose we haven't met face to face before have we?"

"No. No we haven't." You stopped mopping a moment to look at him with a smile of amusement. "But I was told your name by someone."

"Oh?" He also sounded a bit amused tilting it's head further at you. "Then who am I?"

"You're Banban aren't you?" To your surprise the thing sighed and shook its head.

"Is that what everyone's still calling me? No, no. That's not it but if it makes it easier for you then I guess you can call me that. And what's your name?"

"Y/n. It's Y/n." You rose a brow. "If Banban isn't your name though then what is it?"

"Hmm... I'm not sure what to make of my situation now yet so I'm afraid I have to keep that between myself and a select few coworkers. But if you want to you may call me Adam."

"Adam and Banban?...You sure have a few strange selections in names."

Again the thing shrugged. "It's complicated. I'll speak to Doctor Weaverly about getting you that raise but I highly suggest you don't tell anyone about our talks. It's unprofessional. Don't worry. I won't mention anything about our conversation."

You shrugged. "I didn't plan on it."

You went back to cleaning the snail's mess down the hall as he watched from his own window. You felt a bit better than before. From then there was a few times you both would talk. Sometimes it was only a sentence. Usually a question about something or what time or day it was. Sometimes you two would have full conversations about random things although mostly it was sciency stuff you didn't understand although you wondered where he learnt it from. Although he never spoke when someone else was around. You supposed he wanted to keep your talks a secret for his own reasons. Fine by you. You didn't see any reason to tell anyone about your conversations.

"You're a very beautiful woman Y/n."

You paused in the middle of cleaning a window next to his cell, blinked, and then looked at him. "What?"

He only tilted his head. "You heard me. When I finally get things sorted out, maybe we can grab a coffee sometime."

Wait. Was an inhuman experiment hitting on you? And asking you out for coffee?? The absurdity of it all had you laughing a bit before chuckling and shaking your head.

"I'm flattered but I don't think it'd work out between us."

He again shrugged. "Can't blame a man for trying."

You were amused and in a better mood for the rest of the day. Despite how strange it was. But soon things got...strange. All of a sudden Banban just stopped talking to you and interacting all together. It was strange. His cell was reinforced. More guards were patrolling down here more than usual. And security cameras were installed where they previously weren't. And people were acting a little more on edge. What was going on here? Perhaps being just a janitor the classified Intel of what was happening didn't need to be told about this but you still felt unnerved by it all. However you would have one more encounter with Banban before danger struck. You were pushing your cart again past his cell to clean up the now unoccupied cell of that purple kangaroo thing that went missing.

"Y/n." You jumped as a hand suddenly pressed against the window of Banban's cell hard enough to make a sound and rattling the glass a bit. He stared at you with a look that made a shiver run down your spine. "Do NOT come to work tomorrow."

His hand slid down the glass before he backed away without a single word to explain what he meant by that although the warning made a shudder run through you. It stuck with you and..you didn't tell anyone about it. Why would you? It'd only get you in trouble possibly? Besides tomorrow was your day off anyways. It's not like taking a day off work would really be a burden to anyone especially if you already had the day off. Although the way he looked at you stuck in your mind.

It wasn't until the you saw the disappearance of the kindergarten on the news did that sinking feeling had you fainting.

#garten of banban #garten of banban 2 #garten of ban ban #banban #banban x player #Banban x reader #ban ban #Ban ban x reader #Garten of ban ban reader

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dem0nic-darling · 5 months

Text

My Girl (Dabi x AFABReader) 18+

18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: unprotected sex, creampie, voyeurism, rough sex, size-kink, dirty talk, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism

Synopsis- Tired and jealous of the way Hawks lusts after you Dabi lashes out at you. In order to win you back and show Hawks whose girl you are Dabi comes up with a not so innocent way of killing two birds with one stone.

*Angst in the beginning but ends with fluff

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Dabi could feel his blood boiling as he watched Hawks chat you up across the room, his arm draped over your shoulders while he shamelessly leered at your cleavage while you scrolled through your phone. Dabi couldn't blame Hawks for being attracted to you, he'd be crazy not to, what drove him crazy was the fact he so boldy acted on that attraction and that you didn't reject his advances. Deep down he knew he had no right to be upset about it, it wasn't like you and him were exclusive, he had been the one to insist on that when the two of you started to sleep together, despite the fact he couldn't stand the idea of being intimate with a girl other than you. As if he could sense the way Dabi was burning holes into him Hawks turned around and shot him a cheeky smirk, pulling you closer into his side and whispering in your ear. 'I'm gonna fuckin' kill that bastard' Dabi thought as he gritted his teeth.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What movie do you wanna watch?" You asked, taking a seat on his bed. "I'm busy tonight" he didn't even turn to look at you, staring at his phone. "Since when?" You joked, the smile on your face slowly disappearing as he shot you a scowl. "Hey what's wro-" "I'm bored of you." He spat, his heart clenching at the hurt expression that came over your face. "Wh...What?" You asked, doing your best to swallow the lump that formed in your throat at his cold words. "I said I'm fucking bored of you, so get a fucking clue and leave already." He averted his gaze as your lip began to quiver and tears filled your eyes. "What? Did you think I fucking liked you or something? I've only been fucking you because you're convenient, don't get some idea that you're special. You're just one of many whores I've used to entertain myself until I get sick of them." He spat, all his pent up jealousy and feelings of inferiority bubbling up and being directed at you. Unable to handle any more hurtful words from the man you had fallen for, you made your way to the door, doing your best to conceal your tear-soaked face as you brushed pass him. Letting out a loud sob as soon as he slammed the door behind you. Blood leaked from Dabi's burned water ducts at the sound. "FUCK!" He yelled, slamming his fist into the wall.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up really bad and he had absolutely no clue how to fix it. You hadn't left your room since that night and it had been a little over a week since then. The fact that you only allowed Hawks inside did nothing but add salt to the wound that had caused his outburst in the first place. Every night he'd found himself standing outside your door with every intention of begging for your forgiveness, tell you how every word had been nothing but filthy lies formed from his own insecurity and that you were the only good thing in his life. But every time he found himself retreating, his apology and confession lodged in his throat out of fear of rejection.

He threw back another shot of whiskey, hoping it would give him the liquid courage he needed to finally spill his heart out to you, knowing full well it hadn't helped him with any of his many previous attempts. "What's up man?" Hawks asked, earning a harsh glare from Dabi. "Woah, what's wrong? Finally realized how badly you fucked up." Hawks could practically feel the rage radiating off Dabi, but he was never one to surrender when it came to under one's skin, especially when that person was the infamous blue-flamed villain who's girl he'd wanted since the moment he saw her. It was just an added bonus that he'd get the extra satisfaction that came with taking her from Dabi. "I gotta hand it to ya man, you're crazier than I thought if you'd throw a chick like that away." The glass in Dabi's hand cracked from his intense grip. Wanting nothing more than to incinerate the damn cheeky bastard in that moment. Hawks only smirked at the infuriated man, grabbing a pack of beers from the fridge. "I should thank you if I'm being honest. You've made things way easier for me." Dabi threw the glass at Hawks face, who easily avoided it, laughing as he made his way up to your room, leaving a rage filled Dabi standing there with steam coming off his body.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in the bath, enjoying the peace you were left with now that Hawks had left for the night. You wanted nothing more than to be left to your self, but Shigaraki had tasked you with gathering intel from Hawks after noticing his attraction towards you, and as much as you hated it you couldn't risk the mission just because you were feeling miserable. You did your best to let the heartache and stress melt away as you lathered your body in soap, trying to ignore the way its scent made your heart ache as you thought about how Dabi used to compliment it.

The sound of loud knocking on the door broke you out of your painful thoughts. You let out an annoyed sigh as you quickly rinsed the suds off your body and wrapped yourself in a towel, ready to tell off Hawks for disturbing you. "Hawks I am really not in the fucking mood." The rest of your rant quickly dying on your tongue as you saw it was Dabi at the door, not Hawks. You went to shut the door in his face only for him to lodge his boot in the doorway and force himself inside your room. "What the fuck Dabi!?" You yelled, fruitlessly trying to shove him out. "Please, Doll, just give me a minute please." You ignored his desperate pleas, still trying to force him out of your room even though you knew you had no chance of overpowering him.

"What so you can use me as a convenient way to get your dick wet again?" Tears welled up in your eyes, as you acknowledged the cruel words he had said to you. "Shit Doll, I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean it." Dabi said, enveloping your cheeks in his scarred hands and brushing away the tears. Some part of you begged you to jerk away, but the other part couldn't bear to pull away from him despite everything.

You forced yourself meet his gaze with the intention to tell him you hated him and that you wanted him to leave, only to be shocked at the sight of blood flowing from his eyes. You had only seen him cry once, when he told you the story of how he got his scars. You gently cupped his face, hating how you couldn't bare seeing him in pain even after everything he had put you through. and wiped away the blood with your thumb. "I didn't mean it Doll...could never mean it...need you too much, love you too damn much." His sincere words made your heart flutter and tears of happiness leak from your eyes. "I love you too Dabi."

He smashed his lips onto yours, in a kiss of overwhelming passion and emotion. You returned the kiss with equal feverish intensity, as you both sear yourselves in the others being. The feeling of the cold metal of his staples lightly scraping against your skin was a sensation you had grown to love, something so exclusively him. Dabi pulled away from the kiss, biting down gently on your lip. He let out a deep gruff snicker at the way your lips chased his and formed into a pout when he pulled away.

Dabi felt like he was in a dream and would wake up to his harsh reality any moment. How could he not when the woman he thought he'd never be worthy of loved him back. You, who soothed every inch of his being and gave his heart a reason to keep beating.

"You're all mine Doll, that winged bastard can go fuck himself." Dabi muttered, nuzzling your neck. "He's what pissed you off so bad? I was only tolerating him because Shigaraki told me to gather intel from him, he was never competition, no guy was." Dabi felt relief wash over him, a feeling quickly replaced by a burning possessive lust . "Dabi!" You shrieked as he tore the damp towel from your body and turned it to ash. He picked you up as if you were a blushing bride and tossed you onto your bed. "I'm glad to hear that Doll, but the bird brain needs some help getting it through his thick skull." Dabi grabbed your phone from the nightstand and unlocked it. The brief sound of texting and a message being sent filled the air before Dabi returned it to the nightstand and crawled over you. "What did you do?" With a dangerous look in his eye Dabi flashed you a wicked smirk. "You'll see Doll."

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With a triumphant smirk playing on his lips Hawks let himself into the leagues hideout like he owned the place and made his way towards your room. He's rushed over the moment he received your text 'Hawks, I need you so bad.' He'd been trying to hook up with you for weeks, and getting to fuck you after stealing you away from Dabi was going to feel incredible.

The scene he was met with upon entering your room, however was quite different than what he was expecting, shattering his lewd fantasies. You were sitting outward on Dabi's lap with three of his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, small mewls and whimpers escaping you mouth. Shock flashed across your face at the sight of him, only for your eyes to roll back in your skull as Dabi massaged your clit. "You're just in time for the main event bird boy. I just finished prepping her tight pussy for my thick cock."

Hawks had thought his size was impressive, but it seemed laughable compared to the monster Dabi released from his boxers. How the hell did he expect to fit that thing inside you? How had he without tearing you apart. His eyes snapped back to the faces of you and Dabi as Dabi released a groan and you a few whimpers at the feeling of you grinding down on his cock. “Fuck, that’s it Doll. Show him how badly you need this huge cock, my huge cock to fill up that deliciously tight pussy.” Dabi spat, spreading your cunt with two of his scarred fingers and briefly sucking on your swollen bottom lip, shooting Hawks a possessive glare as he did so.

“Ready for me Doll?” Dabi asked, bringing his gaze back to you and tenderly caressing you cheek with his rough thumb. You meekly nodded letting out a small moan as Dabi teased your clit. “Need to hear you say it Doll. Need him to hear you.” You looked up at him through you lashes, wet from tears of pleasure. “Need to be filled by your cock, need it so bad it hurts Dabi.” Dabi groaned, your words making his throbbing cock twitch. “That’s my sweet filthy girl. Always so ready for me to stuff that pretty hole of hers like it deserves.” Flashing a wide-eyed Hawks a triumphant smirk he finally impaled you on the gigantic monster that was his cock. The feeling of him stuffing you full after so long had you throwing your head back in ecstasy into his chest. You cunt twitching around him as you suddenly and unexpected squirted around his monstrous cock. “Fuck yeah Doll, that’s it your sweet cunt always grips my dick so perfectlly ngh~” Dabi quickly joined you in ecstasy as he was consumed bythe heavenly feeling of you gummy walls suffocating his cock in a delicious vice grip, a feeling he’d deprived himself of for far too long. You panted in unison with Dabi, reveling in the feeling of his seed overflowing your sensitive pussy and drooling out onto his balls.

Dabi grunted out a laugh at the pathetic sight of Hawks panting, his own release staining the front of his pants. “Poor bird boy, bet you wish it was you who had this sweet cunt wrapped around your dick overstuffed with your cum, but unfortunately for you this pretty thing is my girl and her tight pussy is reserved for me, ain’t that right doll?”

“Yes Dabi it’s all yours. I’m all yours.” “Damn right Doll. You’re welcome to watch the rest of the show bird boy, but don’t get used to it, this is the closest your pathetic ass will ever get to feeling my girls pussy.” With that Dabi hooked your legs over his arms and slowly pulled you off his cock until it was just his tip inside. A mixture of both of your releases messily dripping out of you as he did this, before he roughly slammed you down on his cock without warning. “Nngahh Dabi~” He silenced your wail with a sloppy kiss full of tongue and teeth as you both lost yourselves in mind numbing pleasure. Leaving a flustered Hawks forgotten as he desperately pumped his cock at the lewd sight of Dabi erratically thrusting his cum covered cock into your drooling pussy. The immense size of him creating a bulge in your lower stomach as he rearranged your guts.

“Shit Doll, so good, so fucking good for me. This sweet pussy was made for my cock. Ngh, fuck~ keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna bust.” Your body trembled as Dabi’s continued to thrust into your sweet spot his thumb not once stopping its assault on your sensitive clit. “Ple- please let me come. You sobbed as that all to familiar knot began to tighten in your abdomen. “I know Doll, just hold o- shit, hold on a little longer for me. So close to filling that pretty cunt up. Just keep clenching my cock like that for me.” Dabi licked away the tears springing from your eyes as you struggled to hold back your impending orgasm.

Dabi’s balls tightened as your warm walls suffocated his throbbing cock. With a final harsh thrust to your cervix and a light pinch to your twitching clit Dabi flooded your womb with his cum with a guttural groan as your own release soaked both of your pelvises and the sheets. “Fuck that’s my girl, did so well Doll.” Dabi said placing a loving kiss to your swollen and bruised lips before pulling out of your spent cunt and laying your exhausted body onto the bed. Smiling softly at the soft snores you left out as he pulled on his boxers. His smile dropped as he turned to Hawks, panting and covered in his own cum. “Looks like you enjoyed yourself.” “I uh-“ “I don’t give a fuck. You’ve been useful so I decided to be generous for the leagues sake just this once, but if I catch you lurking around my girl after this I’ll fucking fry your ass, understood bird boy?” Hawks only nodded, the shame of what he had done while watching the both of you finally sinking in. “Good, looks like you got some sense in that bird brain after all. Now get the fuck out of here before my generosity runs out.” Without making eye contact a disheveled Hawks wasted no time exiting the scene.

Dabi darkly chuckled, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up. ——————————————————————————————————————————————

You awoke as you were lifted from the bed into Dabi’s arms. “Mng…What’re you doing?” You asked with a yawn, your eyes still droopy with sleep. “Just taking you back to my room Doll. Didn’t want you having to sleep on dirty sheets.” “Cause yours are so clean.” You teased nuzzling into his chest. He smiled down at you, kissing the top of your head. “You know what I mean.” You hummed giving him a quick peck on his chest.

“I love you Dabi.” His hold tightened, and you could feel the way his heart rate picked up against you cheek. “I love you too Doll.”

#dabi todoroki #+18 content #fanfiction #no minors allowed #reader insert #smut #bnha dabi #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha hawks #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi smut #Dabi x reader

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 7 months

Text

You can't stand Ghost and he can't stand you, so you kneel and give him a sloppy toppy instead

18+ only || MDNI || Work Rival! Ghost

You're both intimately aware of the type of situations from which there is no coming back - lying to a superior officer, deciding to leave someone behind, making a call between the safety of your squad or securing some intel.

But somehow, the most damning of these situations turns out to be the one the two of you never acknowledge again.

At least your involvement begins innocently enough—you're making your way outside for your shift to keep watch. It's still early, you're not due to start watch for at least 2 hours, but it's not like you're going to sleep anyway, so you decide to relieve Gaz, and smoke an inordinate amount of cigarettes to pass the time.

Except...when you walk past the little room in the safe house Ghost's parked himself in, you hear his cursing. It's a specific kind of cursing—the groaning, drawn-out, pained kind, and you're peaking into the room before you can help yourself.

He's sitting on a ratty, three-legged cot, and attempting to sew himself back up. It's ridiculous, he's ridiculous, and you can't help but wonder if this is the right time to strike. But you barrel through your trepidation and walk through the door anyway. He doesn't even lift his head.

"Get the fuck out, Sergeant."

You bark out a surprised laughter, and it makes him lift his head up and fix you with what you assume is a thunderous expression. The mask is in the way, as usual, so while you can't really tell, you can guess. "You hard of hearin'? I asked you to get the fuck out."

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant, sir," you reply, mockingly, and cross your arms over your chest, not moving.

He must really be fucked, you think to yourself, if he won't even respond. He goes back to his shoddy suturing, shudders racking up his spine when the pain gets too much to bear, but of course, he's as quiet as a mouse. You hate to even think about your admiration of the sheer willpower he displays.

When he sees that you're not going anywhere, he pauses and looks up at you with the usual amount of disdain. "Well, make y'self useful if y'er just gonna stand there."

"Sure," you shrug, and in three strides, you're in front of him, kneeling at his feet.

You can tell he doesn't expect it, because he freezes for a millisecond, blood stained hands hovering over the half-stitched gash on his side. When you peer at it closely, you resist the urge to gag. Ridiculous. You think you can see bone.

So you continue on your mission, and lean forward, your hands hovering over his belt buckle. You give him a moment to refuse you, or encourage you, anything, but he's as stubborn as you are, so he just waits. His breathing is raspy, but you don't know if it's from the pain or the anticipation of pleasure, and if you were so inclined you would've asked. Except...well. It’s Ghost. You couldn’t care less.

You focus on undoing his trousers, pulling his cock out of its confines and Christ, the man is hard. He's even started to leak and an errant thought about his sanity runs through your mind, but you brush it away. You know he's certifiable.

But he's been quiet this whole time and it irritates you. Nary a word of protest, but no encouragement either. So you let your instincts take over and govern you, and you're rewarded with instant gratification when you hear his moan. All you'd done was spit into your hand and grab his cock with it, run it over his skin a few times.

He's looking at you intensely—you can feel his eyes on you—but you ignore him. No, you just flood the inside of your mouth, close your eyes and take him in your mouth as deep as he'll go. No teasing, no trying to make it last. No, you're determined to reaffirm your position of power, and this is the only way in which he allows it.

He instantly starts to fuck up into your throat, and ah. There it is. The encouragement you were looking for.

Every bit of him that you can’t take into your mouth is taken care of by your hand. You even decide to be extra kind to your injured Lieutenant—you look up at him from under your lashes as you sink down on his cock, feeling it mould to the back of your throat—and it gives you a very unique kind of satisfaction to watch your Lieutenant’s fists clench at the feeling. When you moan around his cock his answering rough exhale tells you how good the vibrations feel.

You’re drooling on his dick now, spit running around its sides, and of course you can’t have that. He’s your superior officer, you’re under an obligation to him. So with your fist clenched over the head of his cock, moving deliberately over it, you set out to clean him up, lapping at him, ensuring he’s as shiny as the chest candy he sports.

Maybe his injury is more dire than you realise, because within a few minutes of your special treatment, he’s breathing hard, still not a word leaving his stubborn mouth. In response, you work harder on his cock, ensuring that your nose meets the dark curls at the base of his cock, ensuring that you lift your soft palate so he feels the back of your throat over and over and over. You keep looking at him with doe eyes and at one point, he throws his head back, breaking eye contact for a moment, making your pussy flood because of the way the movement makes the muscles in his neck jump.

When he comes, abruptly and still annoyingly quiet, you swallow around his cock, not wasting a single drop. You clean him up well before you pull away, using a delicate thumb to wipe the side of your mouth and redirecting some errant come back into your mouth, where it belongs.

When you hear a quiet fuck leave his mouth, you smile at him sweetly and get on your feet, ignoring his hateful glare. The steady stream of blood leaking from his ruptured stitches catches your attention, and you laugh out loud at him as you leave the room.

You briefly worry if there's a legitimate risk of him dying on you, but quickly dismiss the thought.

He's not the only Lieutenant on base, they'll find someone else to replace him. You might even get lucky. They might even choose you.

#lumi writes #work rival! ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #cod mw2

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monstercampus · 10 months

Note

thinking about vampire roomie peeking into the little innocent human’s head expecting sweet & romantic thoughts, only to see that his human roommate is the most pervy degenerate person out there

HEH!!!!

(cws: gn!pronouns, dirty thoughts, wet dreams, telepathic voyeurism)

Antón can't take it. You're too....much.

It isn't fair that such a pretty person has such a foul mind--that someone so beautiful also conjures up some of the most vivid sexual exploits that he's ever seen in someone's thoughts. The first time he tried it, just for a peek, Antón felt his world stop turning as he watched you flip through your notes on the couch while fantasizing about being fingered on it. By him. Granted he doesn't have much of a presence at the best of times, but he was only standing in the kitchen making tea, less than five feet away. And you were thinking about him dropping his spoon and stirring you up knuckle-deep just cause he felt like it.

Would you let him? That's a slippery slope and a way of thinking he doesn't often allow himself to entertain--what goes on in people's heads isn't necessarily who they are or what they want. But you have those thoughts a lot, and not just about himself. Priam isn't safe either. Your mind is riddled with fantasies about him whenever he so much as touches you; his hugs turning into mating presses in your head in seconds, and the smell of his hair linering as you envision tangling your fingers into it. He doesn't really need porn at this rate, in fact your head is better than porn--in your thoughts, he can actually watch himself in the action instead of just imagining it, and you have quite the creative juices flowing in that pretty, pretty brain.

Your dreams are even better, he couldn't be more grateful to be a monster that doesn't need to sleep. Because as shameful as it is, he's spending more and more of his nights with his hand shoved in his pants and his vermillion eyes locked on your sleeping body, enjoying every show that passes through your mind as wet dreams overwhelm you each and every night. Sometimes, if he's feeling exceptionally brave, he'll gingerly lift the covers off you to catch a glimpse of the soaked mess you've made in your pajamas and leaked all over your bedspread--are you an angel for real? Because you definitely could be, especially with that innocent face masking a dirty, sex-crazed persona on the inside.....gods know all the ways you might defile the booth if you ever got invited to confession. You'd be a menace, and it would be glorious.

Maybe that's what he needs to do to break this one-sided tension between you two. Swallow his pride and take you into the chapel under the guise of helping you study--and there, where your inhibitions grow looser and Antón shows you that even the purest people have filthy sides to them, you'll quit dreaming and make your desires known so he can do everything in his power to fulfill them.

#vampire roommate #vampire roommate x reader #anton poenari #anton x reader #vampire #vampire x reader #neutral pronouns #monsterfucking #monster campus #monster boyfriend #ellie writes #anons

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fauustic · 10 months

Text

something new, something that scares me

gender non-confirming reader (implied afab due to pregnancy) x miguel "spider-man 2099" o'hara

angst. comfort. with a secret hanging over the complicated relationship the both of you have, miguel is faced with his rot.

warnings: pregnant reader, discussion of sickness (throwing up, fatigue), discussion of loss of child, miscommunication, allusion to (reader's) past relationship trauma, heavy angst. not beta-read.

words: 5644

Your apartment echoed with your choked gags, the bathroom lit aflame with artificial light soon after the hurried stumbling of yours trailing from your bed. Sleep blurred your gaze, gross and sticky yet you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe the gunk. Your bones felt heavy as your pajama shirt slipped up your belly, exposing the soft flesh to the coldness of your home. The sensation made you suck a sharp breath through your teeth, as miserable and alone as ever.

This great big universe of yours was quaint and quiet, only ever needing to go out on your patrols at night. Sleep was gratefully given during the day, only ever interrupted by the gruff–staticy voices seeping into your apartment from the walkie-talkie that leaked codes and warnings of crime– you’ve never been the one to get sick. Not until this absolutely beautiful morning at the ripe time of 4:27AM.

The entire week leading up to today was filled with waves of nausea, interrupting the time you spent to yourself when months grew dull and delicate. Work was never really needed, graciously, as you lived off your success in the medical field. This allowed you to wallow in the comfort of your duvet, bedridden and hungry and moody. As another pitiful cough wracked your form and bile strayed on your tongue, the watch you kept hidden away in the bedside drawer began to illuminate the corner of your room in an orange hue. The warm sweat against your forehead almost stung painfully when the blood from your face drained in anxiety. The warm color and murmur of muffled words that would normally fill your lungs with a crash of adrenaline and mild irritation instead left your palms slipping off the toilet in panic.

You haven't been beckoned to join alongside a mission with another member of the Spider Society in a while. And you would accept one in a moment's notice if you weren't slumped against the cold tile floor of the bathroom.

There's never been a moment where you didn't answer Miguel's check-ins, whether he was asking for your presence for affection or actual help.

The relationship between you and Miguel, to say the very least, was complicated.

You were like the calm before the storm; the soft tide of an ocean meeting the shore with a gentle embrace. Your voice came out like raindrops meeting the morning dew of grass, yet when met with dire situations– it is as if someone brought forth a lighter to your skin and burnt you aflame. You knew how to hold your own, something others didn't expect of your quaint, observant temperament.

Miguel, was– an enigma within himself. He was a shadow of what he once was, you had learned through the stories he had told you during the nights where your watch felt too heavy on your wrist, drowned away in the bedsheets of your lover that held you as if you were going to leave at the mention of another universe– gone without any evidence that you even existed in the first place.

Ever since you learned, the insecurities that plagued his words in the darkness of the room you crashed in every now and then held greater weight. The white headband and blue wrapping bow resting upon the nightstand, gathering dust by each passing day, caught your eye more than it did not. As Miguel met your lips with his own in sleepy desperation, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you even closer– the trauma haunting his gaze whenever he recollected his thoughts flashed behind your eyelids.

Your first mistake is that you grew to love the shadow of what he once was, grew too attached to a man that wasn't under your protection of a universe that was your own.

The babble of sentences seeping through the cracks of your bedside cabinet had your heart lurching, an all-too-familiar voice passing through the silence like a knife striking through air. His voice was tentative, an exhausted repeat of your name before he heaved another "voice-mail" (or whatever is equivalent to such a thing on a universe-hopping device) into the technological watch. You can already imagine the dark bags right underneath his eyes, framed by definition of his features and wrinkles conjured through stress and age. His hair would be swept back with his claws, you're sure of it. Around this time in your universe it was roughly the same to his, perhaps an hour or two before him. But time didn't matter to the man who put himself in charge of a society full of clones of the same guy, give or take an infinite amount of variations alongside said-same-guy.

As your chin pressed down on the toilet seat, skin damp with sweat from the constant cycle of insomnia and sickness– you allowed yourself the indulging selfishness of imagining Miguel comforting you. But you were afraid of how he'd react to the secret you've kept under the wraps for a couple weeks now, skillfully and hopefully subtly avoiding him. Now you've been homebound, and letting him see you in this state would surely encourage him to come through that apartment door himself.

The problem was, you and Miguel were not officially together. It was complicated, with him dancing into his life and hooking up with you– spending nights wrapped in your embrace as soft huffs of his breath would meet the shell of your ear. And then he'd disappear for a month and fade back onto nothing more than a coworker, a person you'd nod to in the offices because Miguel was not one to wave.

And to tell him you were most, no– definitely pregnant, you were unsure on how he'd respond.

Miguel has never bared his teeth towards you unless in bed, his fangs grazing the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder in the soft lull of a long day– but you knew he was not one necessarily subject to change. Something out of order. A situation abrupt and unexpected that would change the future and possibly everything that followed.

His past was never foreign, he'd let bits and pieces of himself slip past that guarded exterior of his in the safety of your blankets and pillows and kisses– but that's why fear shot up your spine and settled back down into the pit of your stomach. Miguel has tried more than once to create his own reality of what a family should be– and lost the only thing that has ever truly been important to him twice. Your baby would never be Gabriella, and you couldn't allow your future bundle of love to be put under that expectation.

And, and plus, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep it. The idea of parenthood had you swallowing back spit like you'd just been dunked into freezing water, the circumstances unknown and dangerous. A father from a whole entire universe? That was stupid. Miguel would call you stupid, too. You knew it. Just like the one who treated you before.

Wetness blurred your vision before you even had a chance to get up, stumbling into the kitchen for a glass of water. You knew you looked like shit, eyes puffy and lips chapped as you pulled at your pajamas to get more comfortable. As you down half a water, a knock vibrates your apartment. It must be a neighbor, you thought. You were probably too loud with these fits you’ve been having, slumped over a toilet and being miserable.

Opening the door, your blood runs cold and the sweat that was finally beginning to stay away after wiping your face came back worse. It was the man that’s been haunting your every living moment, both in wake and in dreams. He looked absolutely wrecked beyond the facade he tried to put up– sunken eyes and unruly hair. “You’ve ignored another call of mine.” Was all he said, pointed and brooding.

“Miguel,” you began as you brought yourself inviting him in before you could even catch yourself. He had that stoic yet bothered look on his face, one that’s almost permanently etched within the few expressions he can muster.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Miguel's voice, confused and raising ever so slightly as his muddled gaze scanned over your pacing form. No hellos, how are you doing, direct as always. When your nails met your teeth in a nervous habit, Miguel exhaled heavily as if he was trying to calm himself down. "No reason, no call– just pure radio silence! I came here because I thought something happened– Dios mío–" He sounded pained, accent growing ever thicker as he shuffled a long-sleeved, futuristic athletic shirt off. The top part of his suit met your eyes, and you had to rip your guilty stare off his form as you remembered who the both of you are; two lines on a graph, who should have simply stayed parallel to one another. Intersecting with a man who has flipped your world upside down and spawned so many opportunities just to disappear the next night– you couldn't take it anymore.

His sweatpant-clad ankles met your downcast attention as Miguel came closer, his touch contrasting that irritated voice of his. Index meeting the skin of your jaw just right to your chin, he guided your eyes to his own. A frown tugged at his features, winning the war when he so desperately tried to be stoic. Without a word, Miguel scanned the splotches on your face and dried wetness coating your cheeks. He knew you had been crying, he always does.

His touch is so inviting, so welcoming that you just want to surrender your entire being to him. To crawl right into the ribcage you were level with and to create a home, nestled as close to his heart that he tried to keep at bay.

People who aren't lovers shouldn't be holding one another like this, you thought as his thumb met the corner of your lip and his index rested upon your chin. Miguel's lips carved themselves into a deeper scowl as a choked sob erupted the silence following his question, his own hardness beyond that gaze of his shattering like an unlucky mirror.

Miguel has never had to put up with you in such an emotional atmosphere. You thought you were scaring him away, but he only took your hands in his and rubbed the flesh of your knuckles as you cried.

Guilt struck your lungs and constricted your breathing, "we shouldn't be doing this." You were full on crying now, you felt the tears rolling down the hot shame igniting your cheeks. You heard your voice crack under the pressure of avoiding him, of depriving your life of the one you loved the most. You snatched your hands away from his grasp, and the moment he let you, you regretted it.

"I shouldn't love you."

"You love me?"

The question tumbling from his agape lips was nothing less than sincere as you snapped your neck towards his shell-shocked expression. You didn't mean to say that– too caught up in emotions and memories and it just came out–

So instead you covered your mouth and shook your head rapidly, stepping away yet never turning away from him. Your sobs wracked your body for the millionth time that night, reminding you of the emptiness you felt on your knees, slumped against the toilet and fending off sickness. A flash of hurt made itself apparent in his gaze, but Miguel knew you were lying.

He stood there like a statue in the middle of your cozy living room, looking like he was sculpted to be here. To be at home, with you.

If you were two other people, the both of you would be snuggled on the couch that cost way too much at a furniture store going out of business, buttery fingers accidentally intertwining in a bowl of chile-lime seasoned popcorn– having pointless debates on whether or not the next character to die in a B-listed horror film would be the clueless jock or stereotypical book-nerd. Miguel would be complaining "Why are we watching this, anyways? Película de mierda, should have listened to my recommendations from the start."

"I do not want to be stuck at home on a Friday night watching documentaries with you."

And he'd give you a side-eye with a scowl he truly didn't mean, before hitting you in the forehead with a piece of seasoned popcorn.

But this was not another universe where the two of you were intertwined, birthed on the same Earth and time that had you sharing classes and awkward, immature conversations. You would never be granted the experience of that pining phase, dancing around one another under sweet circumstances that consisted of healthy households and loving parents. You were you, holding your stomach in anticipated nausea. And he was Miguel, clenching the claws into his palms with his grey streak hovering uncharacteristically over his eyebrow.

The couch was empty, the television was not on. It was cold.

"We can't continue doing this." You sighed, daring to keep your darting eyes from that rare, broken expression painting his features and daring him to look older. "I'm tired." You fumbled with your hands, bruised and battered from the anxious picking and nights you stayed glued to the toilet. Miguel's eyes met the marks lining the flesh, and he challenged the empty space between the both of you. You knew that he knew he preached to never interfere with what's bound to happen in one another's worlds, that everything is supposed to keep itself flowing without the interference of even one, single organism from another universe. Yet here he was, fighting to keep this situation in the palms of his shaky hands. To hold onto you and never let go. "I'm sorry l, I'm sorry." He whispered into your hair, ruffled from the rough evening you've had. "Perdóname, por favor."

The mention of cutting this, whatever this was, had him crumbling into your frame that hugged the wall that met your back. His hands snaked themselves around your waist before tiredly settling on the softness peeking from your rumpled pajama shirt. His forehead met your shoulder, hunching into the warmth you omitted like he was a freezing man starved from fire. Miguel shifted so his nose met the crook of your neck, dampness meeting the tendons there as he inhaled deeply. "I'm, I'm sorry." He chanted like a broken vinyl, voice breaking into barely above a whisper.

Miguel thought it was because of all those times he had left you hours after he kissed the bruises littering your skin, the marks he branded into your flesh like a possessive sigil. And he wasn't wrong, Miguel was absolutely terrible for that.

But the pain that tore open your heart and festered into the valves was the aching lit aflame from the nights ruined from sick, never soothed from the one who loved like he was starved and accepted affection like he was desperate, but never given the opportunity of you seeing the morning rays meet the stress dotting his relaxed forehead in the peacefulness of slumber. That was the breaking point.

"Miguel," a sigh escapes your lips before you could contain it. "Please leave." A desperate plea that you didn't fully believe in. All that you gained in response was his hold growing tighter, no words exchanged.

"No, no, no." He breathed into your being, mixing himself into you until you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. "I can't go, not until I know this is back to right again."

You shook your head, cheek grazing further into the curls that threatened to tickle you with each motion. "It can't be, Miguel. Just go back home."

"And why is that," Miguel says your name, fumbling slightly as he almost murmurs a pet name in the vulnerability of the moment. "This, what's happening– we can fix this as long as you tell me what's going on, angel. Just tell me and I'll fix this." It almost came out as a whine, the urge to keep everything in order oozing out from the ulterior of his words. "Nosotros podemos salvar esto. Please, please, please." He was at a loss, anxious and scared and trying his best to keep as calm as he possibly can– Miguel's native tongue always slipped into conversations at his most emotional, trying to convey his feelings as easily as possible.

Miguel's body pulled away only so he could grab your face gently, as if you were the most fragile thing in all the universes despite your life of busting noses and cleaning up the scum off every city, his suited palms met your skin and it was a bittersweet reminder of the lives you both had. The reason you two were never able to have that happy ending of yours.

"I can't bring myself to tell you," you mumbled, the furrow of his sharp eyebrows accompanied with the squint of disbelief had you wishing you could just scoop him up in your arms and tell him that this was just one big joke. He wouldn't talk to you for months, cold shoulder and all.

"You can tell me anything. Siempre." The last came out as hushed, a promise you've never heard from him before. Miguel has never truly given you more to work with other than physicality. It hurt knowing you could have had this all along.

Nightlife bled into your apartment, the vibrant lights fighting against the blinds you drew closed. A soft glare of yellow met a mole just below his lip and traced his nose before disappearing as if it was never there at all. A honk flooded the taut tension, almost making you jump in the light grasp he held onto you. You were wondering if he thought you were going to wash away the moment he let go of you, as if you were a sailor lost at sea and he was the broken anchor trying its best to keep you grounded.

Your teeth met your lip, rolling it around before metal met your tongue. The pain kept you in the moment, the soft echo of “tell him, tell him, tell him,” sounding throughout your head like an urgent emergency alarm. It was all too much. You couldn’t do it anymore.

One breath. Holding it, your confession came out a bit choked and ashamed. “I’m pregnant.” The second it left the confinement of your mind and left your tongue, you just wanted to go back into your room and dig a hole from your bed into the ground. The hold on your cheeks fell slack in shock, before Miguel’s claws that threatened to peak from his fingers trailed down the flesh of your collarbone and settled on your shoulders.

His habit of keeping eye-contact slipped, failing to keep up with your ever-changing gaze. Instead, he stared at you as if he was just something that defied both life and science itself, staring off into nothingness until finally knocking his forehead in the junction right above your heart– nose brushing your armpit. “¿Qué?” Was all he could bring himself to say, and you misconstrued his disbelief with disappointment.

You brought yourself to repeat what you had held back, tears falling from your puffy eyes. “I’m, I’m pregnant.”

“That’s–” A loss of words, must be trying to fabricate his anger into words. You had messed up, right? Maybe you deserved this–

“I’m sorry, Miguel. I’m sorry–” You cut him off, panic setting into your skin and wiring your brain to go into flight mode. “I was on the pill, and I made sure–”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say another word because the next thing you know is that Miguel’s surrounding you, hands wrapping around the back of your head in a messy tangle of curls wrapped around large fingers as your teeth clashed with his, lips intertwined with your own– your slightly chapped skin meeting his plush mouth. Spit and tears became one until you couldn’t tell anymore, and when the both of you separated a string of saliva was left in its wake. You were dazed from the abrupt need of touch, as Miguel huffed and stammered into your mouth over things he didn’t know how to express.

“No, stop. None of that, none of that matters.” He heaved, and you weren’t sure if the shine glazing his eyes were tears because the wetness clouding your gaze almost had you seeing double.

Confusion set in, replacing the prepared rambling you had of excuses. “You don’t?” You felt stupid for questioning him, but he only hissed an exhale through his teeth and shook his head as if the tension within him began deflating like a balloon.

“Never.” He assured, forehead meeting yours. “We’ve just never spoken about this before.” It almost came out sheepishly, a light shrug bumping your shoulders before his eyes drifted off. But they rested back on you within a blink.

Miguel breathed in deeply, as if he was having to take in oxygen and breathe out manually. His muscles within the constrictions of his suit rolled as he held himself hunched over you, trying his best not to be drafted away in thought. Something he found himself doing frequently whenever met with his computer panels.

A laugh couldn’t help but leave your throat as you bit back a sob. “Because you never wanted to.”

Nothing was said in response, and as you surveyed his darting gaze from your stomach to your lips, and finally your eyes– you felt as if you said something wrong. But he only sighed, nodding ever so slowly against your flesh.

“I was..” He fumbled with what he wanted to say, before finally screwing his eyes shut and hissing out; “scared.”

You stayed quiet for him to organize his thoughts, in which he slid his forearms around your back in gratitude and wrapped you in a hold that felt as safe as a weighted blanket.

“You, you are something else entirely. Me recuerdas al aire que respiro, algo sin lo que no puedo vivir. The rapture in my veins, the photo I find myself staring at often as if somehow you’ll jump right from the screen and engulf me with that warmth I cannot ever get enough of.” It was cheesy, but you knew he was trying his best in describing even a fraction of the amount he cared for you. “I just never knew how to go about it.”

“But you got me pregnant,” You teased weakly into his shoulder as you slid away from his forehead, the eye-contact he craved to contain grew overwhelming with the newfound emotion he had for you locked away.

“Christ,” he mumbled as he mirrored your actions, fangs finding their way to graze the skin just within the crook of your neck. “I heard you, you said you love me.”

“I shouldn’t.”

His movements still, embrace going rigid until you were the one to spill your feelings.

“We, we were never even supposed to meet. We’re from completely different worlds, the people are different and the places don’t add up–” You tripped over the thoughts you finally revealed as well, desperately trying to claw your worries out from the lump in your throat. “What about everything you said, are you willing to risk it all just for this? I don’t want you to stay awake at night when it comes to contemplating the idea that what had once happened before could happen again.”

Give yourself this, you wanted to say. You’ve worked so hard, just give yourself this.

Miguel stares at you, back and forth– each eye and giving it the same attention when his lip curls downward into a genuine wobble. He shakes his head, whether it be in incredulity over his final decision.

“I’m in love with you, too. Love you so much it hurts. Was just too afraid to let myself have you. Eres lo más preciado que tengo en el mundo, no matter where the Arachno Humanoid Poly Multiverse puts us.

“You are such a hidden nerd it hurts.” You find yourself joking with him, and you feel the smile against your skin.

“Only for you, I think.”

Silence enveloped the living room, an exhale of relief allowing itself to escape from your lips. A yawn followed, tiredness seeping into your muscles. “You’re stuck with me if you really do stay.”

The both of you get lost in the embrace of one another, Miguel hunched over into your form until your snores finally fill his ears and he scoops you up as gently as he’s ever handled you. “Te amo, mi lucero.”

“Te amo más,” you had mumbled sleepily as your arms found security around his neck.

And when you wake that morning, your face is met with his chest and your legs are tangled with his. His breath, stifling and hot, tickles the sleepy furrowed brow that creases your forehead. One of Miguel’s arms had found its way to become one with the pillow while the other presses you further into his chest on the small of your back. When he stirs, he blinks away sleep and takes your face into his calloused fingers, sweetly locking his lips with yours in a brief kiss. “Buenos días, mi cielo.” He whispered into the softness of your duvet. Your heart melts at the sight of it all.

He finally stayed.

You make him breakfast that morning and he makes sure your hair stays out of the way when you need to empty your stomach out of morning sickness.

He was a beautiful thing, you knew it from the first peek into his crying eyes. Auburn with a hint of crimson, Miguel's former genes trying its best to win a losing fight.

“Thank you,” you whispered into the delicate moment, watching your son wail softly in your tired embrace.

Miguel’s lips met your cheek bone, fluttering and sweet and different. His hand shakily cupped yours cradling your baby’s head. He was quiet for a long time, no huff of attitude that would meet your off-handed sweetness that secretly melted his heart ten-times over. You peered up at him, an exhausted yet bashful grin ebbing your features as each babble sounded throughout the hospital room. Miguel’s hair had gotten longer throughout the last eight months, curling at the end of his neck and almost brushing his shoulders. Glasses adorned the curvature of his nose, a twinkle that’s accompanied his crimson gaze ever since you cried out “I’m pregnant,” snot and tears and all. He hasn’t let go of himself perse, just more adamant to take care of himself for the sake of you and his family.

His family. If you had told him such a thing merely two years ago, he would have thrown a computer panel aiming straight for the nose and chased you around Nueva York like a rabid animal for such a cruel joke. Miguel almost winced, the baby fawn-like expression of his newborn son almost reminding him of the boy he did the exact thing he just described. After gaining a consciousness, he’s almost apologized in every possible way (not verbally, mainly by giving him an easier time) to that kid and his mom that almost beat his ass back on Earth-1610B.

As his gaze carved into his son’s own, it was like everything felt right. It was like every obstacle that got in the way of the both of you was worth the struggle.

“Gabri. Gabriel.” He breathed, nodding as if it made the most sense in the world.

Your laugh, airy and heavy but lighthearted all the same. “What?” Miguel couldn’t help himself when his hand moved on its own accord, swiping through your unruly and unwashed hair. You had been through it these past couple days, but to him you were nothing less than an angel. Had your hands not been occupied with the newfound bundle of joy the both of you had just welcomed into the world, you would have done the same to his curls. Down the same path, tugging on the grey streak that he stopped dying after months of your persistence.

The baby had Miguel’s eyes, but he had your lips. Your son had Miguel’s nose, but he had your chin. He coughed and snorted and did everything a baby would do, but with every little motion his hands could muster the energy for– had you forgetting every worry that had clouded your mind once before.

“Gabriel,” he repeated as he brought the tip of his index to tickle the palm of his, your son. “Gabri for short.”

“Miguel,” you sighed, with just as much weariness as you had when you asked him to leave your apartment that night. “You know it’s okay that you’re thinking about her–”

Miguel cut you off with a kiss, abrupt and short and sweet. It shut you up right away, a squeak coming out in surprise. His lashes were on full display as his gaze traced your lips before dipping back down to his baby in your loving hold. “Gabriel after my brother. I was going to name Gabriella after him had it been that way.” His brow furrowed faintly at the mention of his late daughter, yet a tiny turn of his mouth contrasted the subtle sorrow. “Namesake sort of thing, I think my mother would have liked it.” He confessed, a mellow fluster brushing his cheeks. Miguel was never one to talk about his parents, too much baggage that was locked away in the late nights of fluttering kisses and achingly tight holds. “Esto es importante para mí, por favor. Please, mi corazón.”

A little giggle of sorts interrupted the heartfelt communication, ripping your scanning, concerned gaze from your husband’s face. “Sé que es importante.” You murmured as a response, settling further into the near-uncomfortable fabric of the hospital bed. After complaining just a little to Miguel though, he had demanded you had the utmost care. He had brought you pillows from your own shared bed, alongside a new duvet from the hospital staff. You didn’t care to make another comment, knowing he’d break down the entire building in search of any aid to soothe your needs.

After a moment of contemplation and mainly just building suspense to get more of a reaction out of Miguel, you shook your head yes and grinned lazily. “Gabri. Lovely, baby.” You echoed your son’s name, hearing an intake of breath right next to your ear in a mixture of rare excitement and contentment that tickled the angle of your jaw and brushed hair upon your nose. Miguel must had seen the scrunch of your nose, as he had grazed where the hair had rested before.

Downright fatigue plagued your movements, wanting to celebrate this moment with Miguel but you had used all your energy in the process. So you leaned up only for him to usher you back down, using no words like he usually did. Quiet thing, he was– just a different atmosphere around his very soul nowadays.

“What can I do for you, my love?” He whispered into your hair, leaning down and getting on his knees to level himself with your exhausted expression. “Just say the word.”

“I need some sleep,” you huffed happily, wanting to trace the skin on his cheek as if he was the night sky and you were pointing out constellations. But you kept your fingers tucked safely around Gabriel until he reached out, allowing you to daintily place him in his own hold before another word between the both of you was uttered.

The dark hue of midnight black bled into the array of purple and pink, blessing the sunset with another hour of rest. It was fairly late already, judging by the amount of coffee cups Miguel had collected on the bedside desk like some kind of coffee connoisseur. When you had teased him about it earlier, he brushed you off with a faux frown and side-eye before laying his head back down on your thighs, giving into another nap before the baby was due.

“Get some rest then, cariño. Me and Gabri will be here, won’t we?” He practically cooed into the space of the newborn, where he was just met with a series of spit-filled babbles and prattle.

You couldn’t help but just nod, overtaken by the lull of sleep and comfort. Here Miguel was, sitting not even a foot away and practically spilling into the bed. He was a clingy thing whether he admitted or not, basking in the warmth your skin brought like a cat drawn to sunlight.

He was quiet as your breathing even out, watching his son like it was a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

It wasn’t until you began snoring that he spoke to his son like an imagineer telling stories, light and fluttery yet raising in octaves to bring forth a squeal of tired excitement that Gabriel couldn’t grasp. And soon enough, Gabri was consumed with sleep in the embrace of his father who couldn’t stop shaking.

Was it nervousness? Disbelief? Fear? Miguel thought it was a scary concoction of all three filling his veins and causing his palms to grow clammy. But as a light gurgle escaped the small little thing in his hands and begged to be patted on the back, every insecurity that plagued his mind and consumed him washed away without a second thought.

A small, selfish part of him wished Gabriella was here to bask in the shared excitement between the both of you– but he knew she was gone. And you were here, and Gabri has come along too.

And that’s more than he ever thought he deserved.

#i had to write something before i exploded i missed writing so much .. please GIVE ME REQUESTS RAHH #ive been so busy and my sleep schedule SUCKS because i finally got a job #forgive me for no fics!! i feel so bad #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara comfort #x gender neutral reader #spiderman 2099 #x comfort #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #comfort #x angst #angst #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara angst

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em1e · 11 months

Text

⠀ ⠀ ༝ your mother said to pick the very best girl - and i am.

こづめ + てつろう + コウタロウ + けいじ // TAG, YOU’RE IT ⠀ ༝ ༝ slasher!au ft. kuroo + kenma + akaashi + bokuto ⠀ ༝ ༝ 4.4k words ⠀ ⚠︎ final girl!reader, VIOLENCE, CHARACTER DEATH(s), implied fem!reader but no pronouns used, reader's bf and friends are oc's! ⠀ — a fun camping trip! what could go wrong.

you really wish you could pinpoint when everything went to shit.

you could guess, sure. maybe it was when your boyfriend suggested coming to this hicktown, the promise of a campground for your friend group of four to have a wonderful, fun, and cool outing. maybe it was when his friend invited his new girlfriend - some girl from your college that talked too loud and popped her gum too much the entire car ride over. maybe it was when the lock to your cabin didn’t fully click into place.

or maybe it was when your boyfriend slumped against the wall, his head cracked open with blood and what you could only guess was brain matter leaking freely from the hole.

you should probably backtrack a little. think for a second.

“does he have to bring his new girl?” you’re almost whining at this point, shoving the last of your bags in the back of the minivan your boyfriend, akio, thought would be perfect to rent for this weekend trip.

‘so we can all ride together!’ he’d explained with a grin. you really couldn’t tell him no if you wanted.

he hums in thought at your complaints, shrugging, “i mean he’s already invited her. he said she’s excited, too, i don’t wanna be the one to tell her she can’t come when we’re gettin’ him from her place.”

you find it hard to believe that hana’s excited to be out in the middle of nowhere with bugs biting at her and no cell service, but you take the new addition in stride, “whatever,” you wave off, climbing into the front seat, "we’re getting chiyo and aya first though, right? they dislike her more than i do.”

the twins, grouped nickname given to them by their brother and one bringing the parasitic gum-popping girl, have voiced their complaints about her coming more than once, but are ultimately shut down by said brother, riku.

“mhm,” akio confirms with a thumbs up after he’s settled in the driver’s seat, offering you the aux as he starts the van. a passenger princess through and through, you start the playlist you’d carefully crafted days before - full of things everyone will enjoy, “then we’re gonna get hana and riku.”

akio doesn’t miss the small thank god that falls from your lips, but he chooses to ignore it in favor of turning up the music.

༝ ༝

“i’m not really fellin’ this song.” hana leans over the center console to peek at what you have queued next on your phone, popping her gum loudly in your ear as she does. you grimace, but she doesn’t seem to notice while trying to decide herself what song to play instead.

you lean away from her, head hitting the window with a small frown that barely disappears when akio’s fingers tangle with your own.

“we’re like 30 minutes from the campsite, can you just sit down?” aya groans, happy to voice her distaste to anything hana does. to be fair, she’s been bouncing from seat to seat in the van, and you think it’s even been pissing riku off, if the way he grumbles a small yeah, please is anything to go by.

you tune out any further argument while looking out the window, squeezing akio’s fingers with a small hum as you pass some dingey motel in the dingier town you’re passing through before you hit the woods, “if any bugs land on me or i see a snake or a spider, you’ll be able to find me there.”

“the motel?” akio asks, grinning while glancing back in the mirror.

“mhm,” you nod, sitting up slightly and stretching your legs as much as you’re allowed, “not dealin’ with that.”

“we’re gonna be in the woods,” he reminds you with a laugh, “s’gonna be kinda hard to avoid all of that.”

you shrug, “good thing that ‘no vacancy’ light was off.”

“you’re funny.” he untangles his fingers from yours to squeeze your thigh instead, and the action leaves you smiling.

and true to aya’s word, thirty minutes later you’re in the middle of the woods, in front of a pretty cabin akio rented on airbnb. hana complains before she’s even out of the van, swatting away invisible bugs that seemed to swarm her as soon as the door was opened.

you do your best to ignore her, bumping hips with chiyo as you begin to remove everything from the van, “let’s have a fun weekend, yeah?” you offer with a small smile.

chiyo returns it with a scrunched nose, “one could only hope.” and removes her two suitcases from the pile.

༝ ༝

the first night was nice. riku might’ve made the damning decision to invite his annoying girlfriend, but he makes it up to the group easily by providing a surplus of booze, and the six of you get drunk off your asses and sleep until the middle of the next day. that saturday is filled with exploring around the cabin, walking down what trails were already there, and settling the next night off with a barbeque and sipping on what alcohol was leftover from the previous night.

the second night does not end as nicely.

you went to bed early. a headache, you think was your reasoning, probably from hana and whatever annoying habit she’d picked up for the day getting to you, but you woke up far earlier than intended.

one look to your phone told you it was a little past midnight, and you chasisted yourself for not plugging in the device before laying down - the blinking red of 7% flashing at you from a day of taking lots of pictures in nature. there’s a crash somewhere in the cabin, the living room you think, followed by a scream that has you stumbling to your feet and almost tripping over the covers as they try to hold you down to the bed.

hana’s holding what you assume to be her phone in one hand, pointing a finger at aya with a glare, “who the fuck gave you permission to go through my shit?”

aya looks impassive as she shrugs, “shouldn’t leave your phone out. maybe then we wouldn’t know about daniel, 32, who likes long walks on the beach and, what was it chiyo, country music?”

hana’s cheeks flush, scowl deepening when she finally realizes you’re standing in the hall, “of course you’re up the second there’s something going on.” and as if god isn’t sparing her any chances, your boyfriend and riku stumble in through the front door, cheeks pink from drinking.

hana’s eyes narrow between the three of you, before settling sweetly on her boyfriend (boytoy?), “riku, babe, i think we should head to our room. stinks in here.” she and aya share an intense glaring battle, before she clicks her tongue and saunters over to riku, who’s mostly being held up by akio.

just as she snakes her hand around his waist, pulls him close, the door swings open again. it lets in the chilly night air, leaves you wrapping an arm around yourself with a furrowed brow.

who the hell could that be?

tall. objectively attractive with a sharp grin and dark hair, taking in each of you with enthusiasm.

“um . . . do we know you?”

chiyo asks, head tilting while the two boys turn to face the intruder.

“me?” the stranger asks, mocking her head tilt, “no. not yet at least.” his grin is unwavering, and you decide then it’s unnerving, leaves a pit in your stomach when his eyes find your own.

“who the hell are ya then?” akio straightens his shoulders, and despite being over the line of tipsy, stands tall. the stranger however, remains taller of the two.

“is it a party in here or what?” someone behind you says, and you jump with a squeak when an arm wraps around your waist, a face you don’t recognize hooking their chin over your shoulder. gray and black hair finds way to your vision, and your body tenses before you’re shoving him away with a stumble. he pouts, slouching over, “thought a pretty thing like you’d be sweet.”

“can we help you guys with something?” aya snaps, pulling you back by the upper arm so you’re a decent distance away from him, “this is private property.”

the tall man from the door clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing, “maybe. we’re just here to have some fun.”

two more guys walk in behind him, one shorter with a mix of overgrown bleached-blonde hair giving way to dark black roots, and the other a taller man with dark hair following in close behind.

“is this a joke?” hana steps from riku, who’s looking just as annoyed as your boyfriend.

“no jokes, ” the first guy who came in promised, “just wanna play a game with you guys.”

“we’re not into games,” akio slurs out, “you guys should go ‘fore we call the cops.”

this seems to make the stranger grin wider, holding out his hand behind him to his friends. the shorter one puts something in his awaiting grasp, and it’s like everything starts happening in slow motion.

akio’s squaring his shoulders, getting ready to throw a punch, but the guy, without hesitation, is already swinging. except it’s not his fist that makes the contact - it’s a fucking bat. akio’s head turns with the impact, and the stranger takes another swing from overhead. it lands with a sickening crack, one that has akio stumbling backwards until his back hits the wall and he slumps over, fingers twitching once, twice, before stopping altogether.

you don’t know who screams first - if it’s hana or chiyo - unable to process anything around you as you openly gape at your crumbled boyfriend’s form on the ground.

“now,” the man with the bat wipes away a spot of blood that’d splashed to his cheek, “let’s talk about that fun, yeah?”

riku takes a stumbling swing at one of them, but is ultimately knocked on his ass when his own hit doesn’t connect while they make their way further into the room. hana is the first to try and run out the door, but it’s slammed shut by the last guy to come in, steel eyes freezing her in place when her hands make contact with the doorknob. she stumbles away instantly.

“let’s start with introductions, “ the bat man gestures to the couches at the center of the room, pulling a chair from the dining room to sit across from it. the slamming of another dining room chair on the ground has all of you scrambling to find a spot to sit while they find places in front of all of you, “‘m kuroo,” he points the bat to the one with blonde bits of hair, “that’s kenma,” to the one who touched you, “bokuto,” the final of the four, “and akaashi.”

his head tilts as he looks at each of you squished on the sofa together, pointing the bat at the group and grinning when you recoil, “eenie,” he points it at aya, “meenie,” chiyo, “miney,” riku, “you.” stops on you, “tell me your names, pretty.”

your eyes widen as you look between your friends.

“u-um . . .” and you introduce everyone with hesitation laced on your tongue, looking at him for confirmation that you’re finished when you’re done.

“and him?” he nods his head to akio’s body, smiles when your lip wobbles as you stutter out his name.

“good job,” he praises, “now, we are gonna let you guys go.”

hana visibly perks up at this, it’s not missed by the analytical eyes of the four studying your group. bokuto sighs from behind the couch, surprising both you and chiyo as he leans over the back of it and into your personal bubble again (when did he even move from beside akaashi?), “buuuut we gotta have some fun first.” he adds before kuroo can continue.

“fun?” chiyo parrots with a squeak. you think you can make out a smile from akaashi.

“fun,” kuroo confirms, “we’re gonna play a game. like hide and seek. you guys make it to the town that’s a few miles north from here, you win!”

he almost sounds excited as he explains.

“what happens if we don’t . . . make it?” aya asks with a frown.

“good question, aya,” kuroo stands, pushing the chair back as he does, “we’re going to kill you, if we catch you. you’ll join your little friend over there.”

you hear aya swallow hard.

“what if we don’t play?” riku counters with a glare, “we can just stay here and you won’t get a hard on from chasing us.”

“we’ll kill you here,” akaashi says easily, as if talking about something as miniscule as the weather, not about your life being held in the palm of their hands.

“speaking of -” kuroo’s eyes flit over each of you, “seems kinda unfair to be a 5 v 4, huh?”

you feel chiyo stiffen at your side from the implication, hand clumsily finding your own as kuroo towers over the five of you.

“who should it be, kenma?” kuroo glances to his right, and kenma’s head tilts before he points.

riku barely has the chance to stand before the bat is hitting him. he falls loudly to the center of the carpet, unmoving.

chiyo sobs, squeezing your hand, and aya wretches at the sight, vomiting over the side of the couch. you can only stare, wide eyed because surely this isn’t real. your boyfriend couldn’t have been murdered in front of you less than thirty minutes ago, riku’s not dead on the ground joining him right now, and these guys aren’t going to chase the four of you in the woods of some dense forest with such a minimal chance of escaping. . . right?

chiyo’s fingers digging crescent marks into the back of your hand is what pulls you from that hope.

“we’re gonna give ya fifteen seconds to get out of here-” kuroo starts, tapping riku’s back twice with the bat as if to ensure he’s down for good.

you interrupt him before you can stop the words from spilling off your lips, “twenty.”

“sorry?” kuroo’s brows furrow for only a second, before his head is tilting with a grin.

“w-we get twenty seconds,” you ration, ignoring the way chiyo’s fingers are squeezing your hand too hard, “and we get to put on our shoes.”

“you’re not really in a position to be making demands,” kenma comments impassively, but kuroo waves him off, closing his eyes for a second.

“no, it would be a little unfair if we let them zip outta here like that. we’ll give you twenty-five seconds to put on your shoes and go and it starts . . .” he looks at kenma, who gives a thumbs up, “now.”

only a second is wasted between the breath of his last words before the four of you are scrambling to stand. you have to drag chiyo up yourself, push her forward towards the door so she can slide on her shoes with shaky hands, and you’re following in suit as she’s opening the door.

one of them hollers excitedly as you slam the door shut behind you, and your eyes meet kuroo’s just before the door shuts completely. there’s no comfort in the way he smiles, the way his eyes bore holes in your trembling form.

༝ ༝

you’d been running for what felt like forever.

somehow, you’d lost everyone in the dark - hana dipped into the right of the woods the second she was out the door, and aya and chiyo’s hopes of climbing into the van were crushed when they realized the tires were slashed, so the three of you made a dash following the dirt road that brought you here. one minute they were with you, the next you’re alone, and your legs were starting to ache from exhaustion.

you freeze when a scream tears its way through the woods, echoing and desperate, but you don’t have a second to dwell on it when another body slams into yours. the impact knocks the wind out of you, and you almost scream until you fully realize who’s taken you down.

hana winces as she looks down at you, tears trailing down her cheeks with her hand held tight to her abdomen, and it’s then you notice the blood.

“t-the smaller one stabbed me,” she breathes out, a fresh wave of tears filling her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, “i didn’t even wanna come to this stupid trip.” she pushes herself off of you, sitting at your side.

“we gotta keep moving, hana,” you whisper, forcing yourself onto your aching legs and offering her a hand to stand as well.

she takes it with a frown, opening her mouth to say something before her eyes flit behind you. they widen for a second, before she’s shoving you back and stumbling away, ignoring your curse of her name as you fall flat on your ass.

“two for one?” someone says behind you, you whip your head around as you see kuroo emerging from the dark of the trees, smiling with a tilt of the head, “s’a shame. kenma just went that way, too.”

as if to confirm this, you hear a scream that has you cringing in on yourself.

“now what to do with you?” he steps around you, crouching in front of you with his head still tilted, “you were quite amusing with that twenty second rule - and the shoes. no one’s ever demanded anything from us like that. i’d hate to end this chase when you’re at such a disadvantage.”

his fingers tap the sole of your shoe, trailing up until his fingers brush against the skin above your ankle to poke there too, “you won’t make this boring for me, will you?”

you dig into the dirt at your side with a frown, and he opens his mouth to say more, but you’re tossing the mix of twigs and dirt and leaves into his face before he can get the words out. he even laughs, when you use the leg his hands wrapped around to kick at his chest. somehow, miraculously, your other foot connects with his face while he’s distracted with controlling the first, and it loosens his grip enough for you to push yourself onto your feet and stumble away.

you think you hear him laugh again as you disappear into the trees. you don’t stay long enough to find out what’s so funny.

༝ ༝

kuroo was really enjoying this chase with you.

they each took turns picking who they’d get to grab, and he was lucky enough to go first.

but something about you was really driving him wild. and now, here you were throwing dirt in his face, kicking him right after hard enough to make his nose bleed. he wipes at the blood as it makes its way past his lips, metallic and warm against his tongue. maybe they could have even more fun with you together.

don’t kill mine if you guys see ‘em. <

b> :(

k> you got something in mind with them?

you could say that <

a> I just got mine. I can help you guys if you need.

b> me pls !! mine’s slippery :(

a> 👍

k> stabbed mine couple of times. she’s annoying

just remember not to kill mine <

kuroo shoves his phone in his pocket as the three bubbles pop back up, uninterested in whatever else his friends might have to say.

he’s got a chase to get back to. he grins at the thought.

༝ ༝

you hadn’t seen anyone in what’s felt like hours and you were fucking exhausted.

your legs were begging you to just take a break, your lungs heaving painfully with each inhale you took, but the adrenaline in your veins spurred you on further. everything ached as you stumbled up a hill, leaning against a tree for support to use the height to your advantage and fuck, you could cry at what you saw.

just barely in the dark, you can make out the asphalt of the road - and if you squint your eyes, you can see a little further down the road is the shitty fucking motel you were gonna sleep in, the no vacancy sign shining bright against the dark of the world surrounding you.

but then someone’s grabbing you from behind, shoving your back against the tree you’d been using to hold yourself up. a scream rips itself from your throat, clawing at whatever skin your nails can come in contact with, but bokuto, you realize, only smiles and presses you harder against the tree.

“i’m so close,” you whimper out, shoving at his face when he drops it too close to your own, stomping on his toes and really doing whatever you can to shove him away from you. you glance to your right and you can still see the neon lights from the motel’s sign, the streetlights keeping the hicktown illuminated, “please.”

“kuroo’s gon’a be so happy i caught ya,” he leans down, nosing at your collar and inhaling despite you still struggling against him, “exciting since ‘kaashi got mine.”

you feel him frown against your neck, fingers tightening at your shoulders where they keep you in place. he pulls back with a pout, “that’s not even fair, is it! what’s the point of pickin’ who we wanna go for if someone else is gonna get ‘em anyways!”

you’re frozen at the implication of what ‘got mine’ could mean. the question of who dancing on your tongue, unable to voice it.

bokuto straightens after a second, smiling down at you, and you never really realized how much bigger he was than you until now - all muscles that flex as he readjusts his grip on you, “now, let’s go meet back up with kuroo, yeah?”

it frightens you how easily he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder - and despite your desperate flailing, the way you kick and claw and scream, his grip never wavers. you can only watch as the red LEDs blink further out of sight, until the light that remains is eaten by the darkness of the woods that surrounds you.

by the time he’s walking up the stairs to the cabin, you’re worn out, and you don’t fight it when he places you on the living room floor.

riku’s no longer at the center of the carpet, and if you dared to look you’d see akio is no longer slumped against the wall as well.

bokuto crouches in front of you, toying with a piece of your hair as it falls in your face, and you half-heartedly push his hand away when he laughs, “we’re gonna have lots’a fun with you, i just know it.”

he stands when the door is pushed open again, akaashi walkin through the foyer, dragging a groaning riku in behind him. you stiffen at the sight of him, scrambling to stand only to fall back against the floor when bokuto pushes you down by the shoulder. akaashi, not so gently, pulls him until he’s laying in front of you, and you feel your fingers flex with tears welling in your eyes when he barely moves.

“r-riku?” you whimper out.

you’re answered in the form of a groan, his eyes fluttering open before they close again as if keeping them that way brought him pain. despite the way your hands shake, despite being pushed down before, you move to his side to examine what damage they could’ve done to him.

bokuto laughs again from your side, but doesn’t stop you from pulling him to you protectively, “look atcha, worrying ‘bout someone else’s skin.”

akaashi clicks his tongue, but makes no comment as the door swings open again - kuroo and kenma walking in with dirt and blood staining their hands and clothes. kuroo ruffles your hair almost affectionately as he passes and you duck away from the contact with a frown.

he looks away from you, whispers something to someone, but your heart beats painfully loud in your ears and you can’t hear much beyond your own breaths. kenma fiddles with an already blood-stained knife, twirling it between his fingers as he stares holes into your back.

kuroo takes the knife from kenma with a grin, kneeling beside you and tilting your chin up with the blade, “you do good, we’ll consider letting you go.” his hand finds itself at the nape of your neck, keeping you in place when you shy away from the metal.

“w-what?”

“you’re gonna kill him,” his eyes flit from your own to riku’s body lying beside you, then he’s turning the blade so the handle is facing you instead, pushing it into your hands, “it’ll be easy once you get past the first stab.”

your hands tremble at the weight of the knife, shaking your head with tears spilling over your cheeks, “no . . . no, i’m n-not gonna-”

kenma groans from behind you, and you flinch at the sound, closing your eyes as if that could make everything happening come to an end.

“they’re not gonna do it,” akaashi says boredly, moving behind you to somewhere else in the room, “told ya.”

“i think they can!,” bokuto adds, “they’re just scared of the first step.”

kuroo’s staring at you like he wants to eat you, like you’re stepping in the maw of a wolf and his teeth could sink into you at any second from the way he grins, “you’re right. first step is the hardest.”

his fingers wrap around your own on top of the handle, long and precise as he maneuvers you with his chest against your back, his arms surrounding you until all you can feel is him. it’s suffocating. he leans down, breath hitting the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me help you.”

and he lifts the knife above riku’s body, and despite your protests, despite the way you fight against him, to try and squeeze your hand out from under his, the knife still lands right at the center of his chest. you’re sobbing with new vigor now, body vibrating when kuroo lets out a genuine hearty laugh.

he holds you upright as you curl in on yourself, numb. you so desperately want to fall. collapse, cold and lifeless just like riku. a nasty jolt snaps you back to reality. kuroo´s shaking you out of your stupor, his pupils dilated to the point where his eyes look black. he holds you vice-tight, cradling your head as you cry, your tears dampening his shirt. proud? maybe.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

#salmon rowe #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kozume kenma x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #kotaro bokuto x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader

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