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lacroixqueen · 2 months

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knee deep in the passenger seat of the honda odyssey (18+, deadpool x reader)

Summary: you and wade are on a ~secret undercover mission~ in a honda odyssey and smut ensues obviously

Pairing: annoying deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: car smut, dubcon, noncon, rough, stakeout

Fun Fact: first car I learned to drive in was a honda odyssey

You were stationed just on the outskirts of a busy beach boardwalk on a hot summer day. For some godforsaken reason, your boss decided to pair you up with none other than Wade himself on a stakeout mission. Your target was supposed to be the leader of a major corporate crime ring out on vacation with his family. The only description was that he was 5’6, looked like an average father, and was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt.

That being said, you were fully prepared for being here all fucking day.

Wade also brought up the brilliant idea of renting out a blue Honda Odyssey so that it will “look more believable” and “help us blend in” with the “American middle class”.

Also, this entire mission, he has been unable to keep his eyes or hands off of you. It was annoying, really. He was so goddamn needy.

You were perched on the backseat, elbows placed on top of the armrest so you could peer out the window with your binoculars.

Deadpool was laying on his side on the car floor, happily munching on a bag of snacks he stole from the convenience store earlier.

“If you are going to be here, can you at least help keep watch,” you said, unphased as he continued to crunch loudly on the concerningly neon yellow chips.

“And miss out on this view? No thank you!” he replied, wit as sharp as ever. He giggled pervertedly to himself as he admired how the bright yellow sundress you had on accentuated the curve of your waist and the arch of your back. And how the sunlight poured through the window just right so he could see the contour of your hips and thighs perfectly. He liked the way it glinted off your long hair that cascaded over your neck and shoulders like water. He could watch you forever like this. You were like a Renaissance painting to him.

“You know, I don’t understand why you even agreed to come in the first place,” you mused to yourself. “Like, are you really that bored? Don’t you have anything better to do besides pestering me.”

“And miss out on an opportunity to spend the entire day with Y/N?” he chuckled. “You underestimate my priorities. Besides, being an absolute menace to you and people in general is one of my life’s greatest joys! It’s like snorting cocaine off a drag queen’s ass for the first time in a gay bar. You just can’t get enough of it. Only.. it’s better. And more sustainable!”

“You are unbelievable,” you scoffed. “Also, I highly doubt you are cool enough to do that.”

“You don’t know everything about my life,” he bantered back. “Besides, when was the last time you ever went out?”

“I go out!”

“No you don’t.”

“Whatever.”

“Or.. I have an even better idea. I can take you out,” he suggested, embellishing his request by blowing you a kiss and breaking out the jazz hands.

“In your wildest dreams, Wade,” you muttered, sitting down on the back seat and cleaning the lenses of your binoculars.

He saw this as a challenge to move closer to you, kneeling at your feet like he was your lap dog. “Aw come on Y/N, don’t be like this,” he begged, placing his gloved hands on top of your knees, gently massaging the sides of your legs with his thumbs. “I know you like it when I give you attention.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Wade. I’m just here for the job. Nothing more, nothing less. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to-”

“Oh, but you are not excused,” Wade cooed, softly prying your legs open so you were beginning to spread apart, much to your dismay. “You see, wearing a sundress on a hot summer day, and on a beach boardwalk nonetheless, is easily the sluttiest thing someone can do.”

“You aren’t exactly the one to slutshame me,” you snapped back. “Aren’t you the one sleeping with a different person every night and then forgetting their name the next morning?”

“That’s not true, I’m a virgin!” Deadpool protested as he dipped his head underneath the hem of your skirt. “I’ve never given myself to anyone before.”

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing,” you said. “H-hey what are you even doing down there?”

You could feel his leather-covered fingers slyly dancing over the fabric of your panties.

“Oooh, I like this one a lot!” he beamed, tugging at the lacy waistband of your underwear. “Yellow stripes! And those cute little bows too. Y/N, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Where did you even get something like this? Victoria’s Secret? No, too bougie. Target? Oh, I know I know. Shein.”

“Can you please stop?!” you exclaimed, trying to push him away, but he was holding onto your thighs with an iron grip. “We are working right now and in public for God’s sake. I always knew you were indecent but this is genuinely taking it to another level.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So it is Shein.”

You decided to ignore the accusation.

“Relax, Y/N,” he whispered, pressing his index finger onto the outline of your clit and rubbing over it in teasingly aching circles. “No one can see us. We are parked far enough away. Also, who would even suspect anyone is getting laid in a Honda Odyssey? And if they do, I’ll just tell them I was doing your annual pap smear out of the goodness of my heart. Or better yet, just let them watch! I mean, it’s a boardwalk for crying out loud. People are here to be entertained!”

“You are ridiculous,” you sighed, ultimately giving him the upper hand without even realizing it. You leaned back into the headrest, trying not to overthink even though your mind was beginning to race.

You felt him pry your panties to the side, and squeeze onto the sides of your labia between his index and middle finger. The smooth sensation of his leather glove running over you was enough to elicit a soft cry from your lips. This only encouraged him more.

You whined as he slowly spread your labia apart with his two fingers, causing you to stretch and twitch. You could feel yourself losing, giving in to him. It was a part of yourself that you were not necessarily proud of, but knew would eventually fold to his antics.

“Why are you so tight..” he mused to himself, retracting and then spreading his fingers, over and over again to entice you. “Like this has got to be a world record. I doubt I could even fit a needle in there.”

“Wade!” you cried. “If you’re going to go through with this, can you at the very least shut the fuck up for just once in your life?”

“Aww, she’s being so mean,” he cooed, ignoring you altogether. “Wouldn’t you agree? She’s being such a bad girl.”

“Yes, she’s being just awful!” he said in a high-pitched voice, contorting your pussy as if to pretend it was talking back. “You should really teach her a lesson for acting this way.”

“Ugh, thank you so much for always having my back,” he replied. “See? Even she agrees that you are being unreasonable!”

You were beside yourself at this point, forfeiting the battle and just gazing fondly out the window, allowing the sun to shine over your face.

He poked his head out from underneath your dress just in time to catch this moment.

“You know, you really are very pretty Y/N,” he commented. “Like, as in, I could absolutely see you on the cover of a magazine or a movie poster. Something classy. But not too much where it feels overdone, like those car commercials where the models are spraying themselves with a water hose. Just. Demure, you know?”

“Just shut the fuck up and eat me out already,” you replied, visibly annoyed at this point.

Wade obediently dove back under your skirt, lifting up the bottom of his mask and blowing hot air gently onto your clit. He planted a soft kiss over the top of it, ensuring that both of his lips fully engulfed your most sensitive part. He smirked to himself when he noticed your legs instinctively resting themselves over his shoulders.

You sighed as you felt his tongue flicker mischievously over your warm petals, his thumbs rubbing the divots of your inner thighs like they knew exactly what they were doing. He kissed every part of you so carefully and thoughtfully, as if he wanted to make sure you felt taken care of. His gentleness pleasantly surprised you, as you were unsure he was even capable of being so delicate.

You felt one of the straps of your sundress slowly beginning to slide off, as you lightly placed your hand on top of his head, encouraging him to go even harder. You tossed your head back when he pierced your hole with his hot tongue, softly saying his name over and over again in affirmation.

He liked to tease you, occasionally slowing down for an extended period of time, only for you to say “Keep going! Why did you stop?” He particularly enjoyed watching you blush and become so frazzled you couldn’t even form a proper sentence while he went down on you. But he liked seeing you get exasperated and worked up when he purposefully paused even more. He loved to elicit every type of emotion from you with his tongue. It made him feel like he had power over you.

Next thing you know, he had you pushed up against the car seat, with your dress rolled up to your waist, pounding into you for what felt like hours. He liked to use the seatbelt to wrap around your neck, choking you enough so you could barely catch your breath.

“W-Wade,” you stammered, wet pussy dripping all over the Honda Odyssey as he continued to ram relentlessly into you. From an outsider’s perspective, the vehicle was shaking very suspiciously. “We should.. probably.. get back to the mission..”

“And miss out on the big finale?” he asked, his hand gripping onto the curve of your waist. “Now why exactly would I do that?”

“B-because i-if we don’t, I.. we, the target..” you sighed, unable to string together a coherent thought because he was so damn rough you could hardly think.

You yelped as he smacked your ass with enough rigor to shake the backseat.

“Something that always bothered me about you, Y/N, is that you are always so worried about the stupid shit,” he muttered, sliding his hand over your backside to prepare to spank you one more time. “You never.” Slap. “Fucking.” Smack. “Listen.”

“So when I tell you that you need to relax..” he continued, one of his hands reaching over and gripping the back of your neck. “You are going to relax. Okay?”

“Y-yes sir,” you stammered, gripping onto the shoulder rest of the back seat for dear life, as he began to increase his speed and intensity again.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, smiling to himself. “Isn’t that right?” He tilted his head to the side as if to strike up a casual conversation with your pussy. “She’s being such a good girl, huh?”

He proceeded to mimic choking and sputtering noises.

“That’s okay, I know you have your mouth full,” he responded, trying not to laugh too hard at his own joke.

As he was about to push in even deeper, the walkie talkie in the front seat suddenly went off.

“Hey, is anyone even there?” the voice called out. “We’ve been paging you for hours. I’ve got eyes on the target right now. Six o’ clock. Don’t fuck this up. Over.”

You both froze mid-motion, looking towards the front of the car and then once back at each other. Without needing to exchange a word, you both sprung back into action. Wade tossed you your panties and you quickly pushed your dress straps back on over your shoulders. You managed to crawl your way over to the front, since your legs were hardly functioning at this point. Sluggishly, you picked up the walkie talkie and brought it up to your mouth.

“Heard,” you said wearily.

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manikas-whims · 2 months

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if you're writing on Xav's dialogue then how about some smut on this 🤭

“no one's here. you can yell or scream if you're tired.”

just a suggestion no pressure tho hehe 👉👈

ohhh anon i love this idea! 🤭 this was written in one sitting so please ignore any errors in grammar..

“no one's here. you can yell or scream if you're tired.”

— Part 2/? of turning Xavier's questionable dialogues into short fics.

The obscene plap plap plap of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the emptiness of the gym. Xavier’s arms held your ass in place as you felt your walls being stretched and filled with every thrust he made into your dripping folds.

“Mmmmphhhh!..mmmhhhh..”

Your legs quivered under the force of the thrusts, head hanging low with the exhaustion of not just some regular workout but the naughty endeavors you two had decided to engage in due to the absence of other residents at the apartment complex’s gym. Although with how dazed you felt right then, you highly doubted you’d actually mind an audience watching you get your back blown out.

Lately, you two found it impossible to keep your hands off of each other, indulging in heavy make-out sessions by the claw machine and a quickie here and there during your missions together.

You sensed one of his arms loosening its hold on your waist to glide along your damp neckline, and tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting your own fucked out reflection in the mirrored wall. Thanks to his impatience, and your own arousal at the mere sight of sweat glistening upon his muscles, neither of you bothered with discarding your clothes. With one swift tug he had pulled your leggings and panties down to the ankles, freed his own red, hard member from the shorts that still hung low on his hips, and begun pounding your core.

Your legs quivered under the force of the rutting, and if not for his arms, you would’ve stumbled to the floor long ago.

Thankfully, Xavier took note of your struggle and pushed you towards the mirror. And you complied, wobbling ahead on shaky feet, his cock still buried inside your slick oozing folds.

He guided your arms to rest against the cool glass of the mirror, glazed blue eyes meeting yours through the reflection as his hands returned to your waist, wordlessly asking if you were alright. Asking if he could continue to fuck you senseless against the mirror.

The mere gesture aroused you even more (if that was even humanly possible). Had you asked him to stop then and there, he would have, regardless of his own need for release. It made you want to love him even more than you already did. Be good for him as he was for you.

So you arched your back for him and nodded your head ever so slightly. And with the permission granted, he immediately snapped his hips into your ass, causing a particularly loud moan to escape your swollen lips in spite of your attempts at keeping your voice low.

Xavier leaned his face to your nape. In the mirror you watched his teeth nibbling along your skin as he plunged deeper. Then he pulled back, and plunged in once more. Pulled back; plunged in. Pulled back again; plunged in, pistoning into you faster than ever.

Your head spun, overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensations of your cunt clenching around his length, molding your walls to commit the shape of his cock to memory.

“Xav– ahhhh!”

“No one’s here. You can yell or scream if you’re tired.” He whispered tenderly yet his pace became relentless at the same time to force the screams out of you anyways.

“uhh..uhhh..unnhhhh!!!” You sobbed with every thrust.

Seems like only yesterday when you used to feel shy at the mere idea of something as intimate as sex. Yet here you were— lips parted as you rested your head against the mirror, drool smearing the glass, and eyes bleary with desire.

Xavier’s pace became frenetic, his brows knitting as he sensed his orgasm building up right along with yours. His arms came up to entangle his fingers with your own on the mirror and despite the ache in your thighs, you moved your hips in response, trying to meet him moan for moan, thrust for thrust.

“Mmm..you feel so good, angel..” His hot breaths fanned your face as he huffed in his abraded tone. “Let’s come together..yeah?”

And you followed his gentle command, your cunt spasming and contracting around him as he spurted rope after rope of his seed inside you. You felt some of it leaking down your legs and soiling your panties that were still stuck around your ankles.

Xavier pressed his lips affectionately to your cheek. “We should workout more often.”

Your legs nearly gave out at that and you chuckled despite the exhaustion. “After all this time, this is what motivates you to workout?”

He smiled, his skin flushed beautifully in the afterglow of your indecent activities. “Anything motivates me as long as you are involved.”

» MASTERLIST «

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pin-k-ink · 4 months

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ohmygodohmygod i absolutely LOVED your kuroo fic!!!

and i’ve an idea for another one if you wanna write it. how about kuroo with a really clumsy classmate of his, and they both inevitably end up in really awkward and borderline sexual situations because of it? kinda like a crack fic

convenient // kuroo tetsuro

tw ⇢ clumsy!reader, highly suggestive content, mild sexual tension, fluff, sexual jokes, kuroo is kind of a perv

wc ⇢ 5.1k

a/n: this was heavily inspired by prison school for some reason (yes i watched it 💀)

The first time it happened, it really was just an honest mistake - one that earned Kuroo Tetsuro a well-deserved slap across the face. In his defense, he had been utterly oblivious, mind preoccupied with an upcoming English exam. But that was still no excuse for his careless actions.

He was headed to the library, books and notes tucked under one arm, when a faint shuffling sound drew his gaze upwards. There you were, standing atop a narrow ladder while stretching to reach a book on the upper shelves. Your skirt rode dangerously high with the effort, teetering just shy of outright indecency.

Kuroo felt his eyes widen as he froze mid-step, suddenly hyper-aware of the sleek lines of your legs extending from the rumpled plaid hem. He knew he should look away, avert his stare like any decent guy. But something insidious seemed to glue his feet to the floor, leaving him gawking shamelessly.

That's when disaster struck - literally.

One minute you were straining on tiptoe, back arched enticingly as you strained for your target book. The next, your knee brushed the ladder rung with a faint clang of disturbance. Like a switched had been flipped, the whole structure began wavering treacherously beneath your weight.

You let out a strangled yelp of surprise, arms wheeling wildly in a frantic bid to regain your balance. But it was too late, your slight figure already pitching backwards in a clumsy free-fall towards the unforgiving floor.

Pure instinct propelled Kuroo into action at that moment. Letting his books and papers scatter, he lunged forward with the lightning reflexes of a seasoned athlete. His arms locked around your trim waist just as your feet left the ladder rungs entirely, effectively folding you in half to break your plummet.

You collapsed against his chest in a breathless heap, wavy tresses askew and skirt bundled scandalously around your hips from the abrupt tumble. Kuroo's throat went dry as he found himself confronted with an utterly unobstructed view of your lacy black panties, tight across the supple flesh of your ass and leaving precious little to the imagination.

A tremor rocked his muscles before Kuroo could fully process the provocative situation. His lips parted on a low, strangled sound - was that a whistle or a whimper? - while you stirred groggily in his arms.

That's when realization finally dawned in your wide eyes. You took one look at the flustered volleyball captain gaping down at you and the disheveled state of your uniform, and let out an earsplitting yelp of mortification.

"You...you pervert!"

The resounding crack of your palm across Kuroo's cheek rang out like a gunshot. He reeled back, stunned, as you leapt from his arms and frantically rearranged your rumpled skirt. With a last scandalized glare, you scooped up your books and scurried away down the hall, leaving a flabbergasted Kuroo cradling his stinging jaw.

As he stooped to collect his scattered belongings, the dark-haired captain could only shake his head ruefully, pointedly ignoring the snickers of passing students. He supposed he deserved that one.

Though admittedly, politely keeping his eyes averted would be a monumental challenge going forward if you insisted on being so...distracting around him.

Little did Kuroo know, that was only the beginning of many chaotic encounters with you to come.

After that mortifying library incident, Kuroo thought he would at least get a brief respite from any further awkward run-ins with you. He figured you'd be actively avoiding him out of lingering embarrassment for the foreseeable future. The captain wasn't quite sure whether to feel relieved or oddly disappointed by that prospect.

However, fate seemed to have other plans entirely when it came to tormenting Kuroo with suggestive happenstance around you. If anything, the unlucky encounters only escalated from that point onwards.

It happened again only a few days later. Kuroo was making his way to afternoon English practice after lessons when a commotion from a nearby classroom gave him pause. He distinctly heard a muffled yelp of surprise followed by a clatter like someone knocking into a desk.

Curiosity piqued, he backtracked and peered through the open door to find you in the midst of a graceless struggle. From his vantage point, it looked like you'd caught your knee on a protruding desk lip in the middle of gathering your belongings, upending everything to the floor.

"Need some help?" The words slipped out before Kuroo could reconsider.

You jolted at the sound of his voice, clearly not expecting company. Whipping around revealed your position - bent over at the waist, arms crossed over the desktop as you'd been trying in vain to catch your spilled notebooks and papers before they scattered.

Kuroo felt his throat go instantly dry at the view you presented. With your torso tilted parallel to the ground, he had an unobstructed line of sight directly down the stretched vee of your blouse to the lacy enclosure of your bra. He immediately averted his stare with a sharp inhalation, but the wiggling shift of your body as you tried to right yourself didn't do him any favors.

"O-Oh, hey Kuroo!" You squeaked out, voice pitched just a bit too high as you straightened hastily. You seemed to belatedly realize the disheveled state of your clothes and ran flustered hands over your rioting skirt. "No, I'm okay! Just a bit of a tussle with gravity, as usual."

You laughed in that slightly too high, breathless cadence that told Kuroo you were just as aware of the precarious display as he'd been. Still, he appreciated your nonchalant attempt to smooth over the awkwardness as you bent to collect the remainder of your fallen supplies.

"You sure?" He risked another glance, disappointed satisfied to find your skirt had returned to normal propriety if still slightly rumpled. "I can grab the janitor if you need any cleaning supplies or anything..."

"No, no! Really, I'm fine. But uh, thanks for the offer." You gave a tight smile, clutching your armful of books to your chest.

Kuroo nodded slowly, unable to resist one last sweeping look over your flustered appearance - wild hair askew, cheeks dusted with pink, chest still rising and falling a bit rapidly. Yep...you were still cute as hell, even after catching him gawking like a perverted creep twice now.

"Don't mention it. Just figured I'd lend a hand after providing such quality-eye entertainment lately." He tossed you a wink, mouth kicking up at the corner as your blush deepened.

"You're terrible," you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. But he could've sworn your lips twitched towards a smile as you spun on your heel and strutted from the classroom with as much dignity as you could muster.

Kuroo watched your departing form fondly, scratching at the nape of his neck. "That's me," he agreed under his breath, unable to resist one last admiring glance towards the sway of your hips.

Yes, he would definitely have to be more careful about where he let his gaze stray going forward. Especially if you insisted on continually providing such tantalizing...viewing opportunities for him.

The empty classroom should have been a safe haven for you to gather your thoughts during your free period. With no other students around, you had seized the opportunity to get some fresh air by cracking open one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard.

In retrospect, leaning your entire upper body out of that window may have been ill-advised.

You had been so absorbed in the tranquil view outside, relishing the crisp breeze skating across your face, that you failed to notice your skirt catching and riding up precariously on the window's edge behind you. By the time you registered the precarious situation, it was already too late.

"What the...?" You frowned, twisting your torso in an attempt to dislodge yourself.

But the more you struggled, the more hopelessly ensnared you became - skirt now thoroughly rumpled and bunched around your hips, leaving your backside shockingly exposed to the empty classroom behind you in a way that would make any vice principal blush.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning as you tried in vain to somehow wrangle the stubborn fabric free without outright removing the entire garment and mooning the entire courtyard below. If only you had a personal contortionist on hand...

The telltale creak of the door opening behind you nearly made you swallow your tongue.

"Hey, have you seen my--" The deep timbre of Kuroo's unmistakable voice faltered. "Oh. Uh...need a hand?"

You could practically hear the poorly suppressed grin in his tone without even turning around - not that you could move much in your current trapped position. Your mortification mounted by the second, shoulders ticking up towards your burning ears.

"Don't just stand there!" You hissed through gritted teeth, face on proverbial fire. "Get over here and help me already!"

"I don't know, you seem to have a pretty good view as is," Kuroo drawled, bitter amusement coating every syllaible. But you heard his footsteps start to cross the classroom regardless.

"Don't you dare look, or so help me--"

"I'm just here to provide whatever assistance a gentleman can for a stuck damsel," he interjected solemnly, though you could still hear the laughter staining his tone.

Another teasing brush of warm fingertips skating up your exposed thigh made you suck in a sharp breath, muscles taut. But then Kuroo was deftly tugging at the tangled fabric, trying to work it free from where it had fully wedged against the unforgiving metal window frame.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter as he crouched behind you, hot puffs of his steady breathing ghosting along the back of your bare thighs. The tips of his nails occasionally scraped lightly against your sensitized skin whenever he shifted his grip for better leverage.

Each inadvertent caress sent tingles of heat blossoming across your body, completely at odds with the unrelenting chill of the open window pressed against your ribs. You worried your lower lip between your teeth, trying to stomp down the unwelcome flutters plaguing your gut and attribute them solely to your mortifying predicament.

"Almost there," Kuroo grunted, leaning in so close you could smell the crisp, clean scent of his laundry detergent and body wash. "Just need to...tug this bit..."

"Wait, no--!"

Your panicked warning was too late. With a sharp yank on the stubborn fabric, both of you inadvertently went tumbling backwards in a graceless heap - your skirt ripping free only for the rest of you to promptly crash down squarely on Kuroo's unsuspecting face.

You couldn't quite muffle the startled yelp that rattled up from your chest as you landed in a sprawl of flailing limbs. One blink and suddenly you found yourself pitched backwards, legs splayed shamelessly as your butt settled...right on top of Kuroo's stunned features, mashing against his mouth and nose.

The smothered grunt of surprise punched out from under you was enough to send you flailing away with a choked shriek of mortification, scuttling across the floor like a deranged crab. Your face felt like it was legitimately searing clean off your skull, a condition likely mirrored by Kuroo's own rapidly purpling complexion.

"Ohmygod, Kuroo!" You wheezed out, one trembling hand lifting reflexively to cover your gaping mouth as he finally levered upright. "I am so, sosorry! Are you okay? Please, please tell me you can breathe!"

The captain dragged in a harsh gulp of air, chest heaving, before slowly lifting his burning gaze to your stricken one. Despite the deep flush marring his features, Kuroo's eyes glittered suspiciously.

"Well..." he rasped out with a lopsided, infinitely amused smirk. "Can't say I was expecting that kind of face-sitting from you today, but I can't really complain about the view..."

You released a mortified squawk, yanking the hem of your skirt down with furious tugs. There was no way this wasn't some fresh new hell custom designed by the vindictive heavens just to torment your battered pride around Kuroo Tetsuro.

Honestly, at this rate, you wouldn't be surprised if the boy ended up permanently bowlegged with how many compromising visuals you'd inadvertently provided him.

Kuroo sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he watched you scurry from the classroom, skirt mercifully back in place and face still blazing crimson. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, desperately trying to un-see the compromising visuals now seared into his brain.

There was simply no unseeing the full, unobstructed view he'd gotten of your lace-edged panties and plump backside when you'd so brazenly...well, sat on his face in your wild scramble. His cheeks flushed anew just recalling it - the softness and warmth pressed against his lips, the sweet floral scent overwhelming his senses.

He shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things about you. Kuroo was keenly aware you were just his animated, disaster-prone classmate who always seemed to catch the brunt of humiliating mishaps whenever he was around. Lingering too long on the intimate peeks he'd been granted felt like a violation of the unspoken boundaries between you two.

And yet...

Kuroo found his tongue instinctively swiping across his lower lip, unconsciously chasing some lingering remnant of your taste and scent. The memory of having your feminine curves crushed against his face, even if unintentionally, made his throat run dry with unexpected yearning. He couldn't deny the spark of illicit heat that quickly blazed low in his belly.

With a groan, Kuroo scrubbed both hands through his perpetually tousled hair, tugging at the roots in mild self-admonishment. These were dangerous thoughts to entertain, no matter how attractive and alluring you were as a person. Especially given how mortified you always seemed by the accidental incidents that kept transpiring.

You clearly weren't trying to tease or torment him on purpose. If anything, you seemed just as eager to flee from the awkward tension as he was to diffuse it with irreverent jokes or nonchalant shrugs. No, the burden was his alone to bear - this one-sided battle to wrangle his steadily growing interest every time your bodies collided in such intimate, pulse-spiking ways.

Decision made, Kuroo rose to his feet with a grunt, gathering his scattered belongings. Blowing out a harsh breath, he willed away the lingering flashes of tempting visuals and straightened his spine. Yes, from now on he would simply have to be more vigilant about avoiding you as much as possible. The less he let himself get pulled into these compromising, hormone-addling situations, the better his self-control would remain intact.

It was a sound strategy, he decided with a decisive nod. One that would hopefully spare you both from any further prolonged torment or humiliation down the line.

At least, that was the theory. But as Kuroo quickly learned over the next few days and encounters, the universe seemed to have vastly different plans in regard to continually tormenting him...and you.

It happened during one of their last shared classes of the week - a study hall period Kuroo typically used for reviewing game recordings or getting a jumpstart on his homework. He had just opened up his laptop in the back corner of the room to cue up the latest match footage when an odd scuffling noise drew his attention.

Craning his neck towards the broad windows lining the far wall revealed you standing precariously on your tiptoes atop a wobbly chair, arms stretched high overhead as you attempted to tug open the painted seam where the glass panes met. Kuroo frowned as he watched your feet slip and clothes rustle with the effort. Just what were you doing?

Another loud thud followed by a growl of frustration was all the prompting he needed. With a quiet sigh, Kuroo pushed back from his seat and began weaving between the desks, hands tucked casually into his pockets. Might as well get this over with before your usual antics ended in another cringe-worthy incident for them both...

"Need a hand down there, short stuff?" He called out in a low, lazy drawl as he approached.

You startled at the unexpected voice, petite form going rigid against the window. Kuroo watched your shoulders lift in a sharp inhalation before you slowly risked peering over one toned shoulder, likely looking for the source of the amused rumble.

"Kuroo?" You squeaked out warily, like just speaking his name might somehow summon a fresh round of mortifying events. "What are you doing over here?"

"Probably the same thing you are," he replied with a one-shouldered shrug, gesturing up at the window with his chin. "Except, you know, without the hazardous chair-scaling routine. Don't you think it'd be easier if you just asked for help rather than risking life and limb like that?"

If looks could incinerate, he surely would have combusted on the spot from the narrow-eyed glare you shot his way. But after a long, weighted pause, you finally seemed to relent with a quiet huff.

"Fine, but you'd better not just be offering as some lame excuse to look up my skirt again."

The blunt dig might have landed more soundly if your cheeks weren't already pinkening, giving away your embarrassment. Kuroo simply arched one thick brow, catching his lower lip between his teeth to tamp down the reflexive grin trying to emerge.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kuroo replied easily, holding up both hands in mock surrender. "I'm an innocent bystander here, just trying to lend my services to a damsel flirting with danger."

You leveled him with one final skeptical look before huffing out a reluctant, "Fine. But make it quick before I end up with a concussion or something."

Turning away, you resumed straining on tiptoe, arms outstretched overhead as you blindly grappled for some elusive purchase. Kuroo's gaze was immediately drawn to the wanton stretching pulling your blouse taut against the feminine swell of your chest, outlining your figure in a way that made his mouth go dry.

Clearing his throat roughly, he quickly closed the remaining distance between you and maneuvered himself up onto the chair behind you. His larger frame automatically shielded your bent posture as he reached up past your extended arms to easily unlatch the window's stubborn latch.

The rush of cool evening air that filtered in carried the scent of freshly mown grass and distant woodsmoke, ruffling the loose strands framing your face. You let out a breathless little giggle, grinning over your shoulder up at Kuroo with unguarded delight crinkling your features.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" You teased lightly. "I knew your freakish height would come in handy someday."

Kuroo felt his lips twitch towards a matching smile despite himself. There was just something wildly endearing about the way your nose scrunched when you laughed like that, uninhibited and suffused with mirth. He suddenly found himself in the odd position of fighting off a powerful wave of affection swelling in his chest.

Which is precisely when you chose to twist around fully on the chair, effectively trapping Kuroo between your parted thighs with nowhere to go as you beamed up at him. His breath stuttered in his throat, smile slipping as his abdomen lined up dangerously close to your lower body's soft warmth.

"Thanks for always being around to help me out, by the way," you continued blithely, seemingly unaware of the sudden charged tension. "I really would be a walking hazard without you."

Your words trailed off into another peal of laughter, palms sliding smoothly up Kuroo's chest until they bracketed his shoulders. He could feel the delicate pressure of your fingertips like searing brands through the thin material of his shirt as your gazes locked mere inches apart.

Inside his head, Kuroo's thoughts had devolved into a deafening roar of white noise, every higher brain function shorting out at the proximity of your body heat and sweet, floral scent. All he could focus on was the painted bow of your parted lips, the inviting dip of your collarbones on display beneath your rumpled shirt collar. The burning urge to tilt his head down and taste your smile, to growl and tug you flush against his body, made his fingers twitch convulsively at his sides.

Don't...don't do something stupid and reckless that you'll regret, his voice of reason feebly protested even as your hands slid upwards to cup his jaw with unexpected tenderness. You were so close now that your noses brushed, breath mingling in a humid cloud between your suspended states. Kuroo's heart felt lodged in his throat, pounding staccato against his ribs.

Your thumbs drifted in unconscious, idle strokes along the sharp line of his cheekbones, mesmerizing him further second by second. Instinctively, he bent towards your addictive pull before managing to firmly re-root himself with the last scraps of logic screaming at him to stop.

"That's enough...personal space for today, yeah?" He somehow wrangled enough control to whisper out, the words emerging gritty and strained but underscored with determination. "Why don't we, uh, get you down from there before round two starts sounding fun?"

You blinked rapidly at that, almost as though snapping back to yourself. For a heartbeat, Kuroo could've sworn he glimpsed something like disappointment flickering in your eyes' depths. But then you were nodding brusquely, pulling your hands away to twist back towards the now open window.

The cold rush of oxygen hitting his lungs made Kuroo almost dizzy with a sense of vertigo, like he'd been holding his breath for an eternity underwater. What the hell had just happened? And more alarmingly...why was a part of him wishing it hadn't stopped?

He shook his head to clear the loaded thoughts before resignedly offering you his hands, acting as a brace while you stepped down from the chair. Your fingers curled around his in a warm, tingling grip as you maneuvered yourself to the floor, back deliberately angled away from Kuroo to avert any further...viewing opportunities.

The moment your feet touched down, the odd tension frayed, allowing you both to sink back into familiar patterns and put some merciful distance between your bodies once more.

"Thanks again, Kuroo," you said with a demure smile over one shoulder, brushing past him towards the exit. "See you around sometime soon, I'm sure."

The parting words carried a strange, wistful lilt, warranting another glance from Kuroo's hooded gaze. You didn't linger, simply ambling away from the classroom as effortlessly as you'd arrived, leaving a bewildered captain in your wake.

Kuroo glowered at your retreating back even as something sharp and insistent tugged in his chest at the sight. Whatever this maddening back-and-forth dynamic was between you two, it was rapidly spiraling into something wild and untamed, something that was getting harder and harder to ignore or dismiss...

A growl of mingled frustration rumbled up from the back of his throat before he could stifle it. So much for avoiding temptation and keeping his resolve intact around you. Every time he tried to disengage, the universe seemed to drag you both screaming right back into each other's gravitic pull once more.

Movements taut with consternation, Kuroo sank back into his abandoned desk chair and scrubbed both hands along his face. He couldn't keep doing this endless dance around you, careening between flirtatious banter and breathless disaster without snapping entirely. Something had to give soon before one of you combusted outright.

His palms dug into his eye sockets as a growl rumbled up from somewhere deep in his gut. Yeah...no one ever said being a horny teenage disaster was easy, did they?

The next mishap occurred barely a week later, this time at one of Nekoma's volleyball practices. You had developed a habit of swinging by the gym to catch portions of the team's training sessions whenever your schedule allowed. Kuroo suspected it was equal parts keeping tabs on him and cheering on a couple of your other classmates in the club.

Whatever the reason, he certainly wasn't complaining about the prospect of you watching him glistening with sweat, muscles straining as he launched himself into blistering spikes and ferocious blocks. Even if he adamantly refused to let his gaze linger overlong on your distracting presence courtside.

On this particular evening, the squad was running spike drills, taking turns performing powerful straight-shot hits off the tossed sets. As captain, Kuroo was overseeing the rotations, calling out adjustments and keeping the tempo sharp.

You were perched on the bottom bleacher row, eyes tracking each impactful exchange while gnawing absentmindedly on your thumbnail. Kuroo couldn't resist a few sidelong admiring glances as each powerful leap and arcing jump serve pulled the fabric of his athletic shorts taut against his tensing thighs.

When his turn in the rotation came up again, he was waiting squarely in position, knees bent in preparation to launch upwards and meet the tossed ball. The second coach Naoi’s fingers left the leather, Kuroo exploded off the hardwood into his ferocious spike approach.

Except a sudden shuffling noise off to his left periphery made him falter, just a split-second of lost focus as he whipped his head towards the disturbance. Just in time to see you had risen to your feet and were now bent over at the waist, gripping the railing as you shimmied and shook your hips in some strange calisthenics-esque motion.

Kuroo choked on his own inhale as he inadvertently tracked the mesmerizing movements, torn between drinking in the wanton swish of your skirt tails and avoiding a deadly incoming projectile straight to his face. His abort in midair was clumsy, causing him to land wrong and crumple gracelessly to the varnished court in an undignified sprawl.

"Oof!"

A chorus of snickers rose from his teammates as the commotion made the remaining players pause their drills. Kuroo lay there stunned for a beat, cheeks flushed, before slowly craning his neck to relocate the source of his fall.

You were still bent over the railing, fortunately oblivious to your wardrobe's indecent riding up from the hip shimmies. But you had turned towards the court fully with one hand clutched to your mouth, stifling what Kuroo belatedly recognized as peals of laughter.

"Nice form there, Captain," Yaku called out with a barking laugh.

Kuroo shot the smirking player a dirty look as he levered himself upright, grimacing at the dull throb in his elbow and side from the impromptu meeting with the floor. When he chanced another glance towards the bleachers, you seemed to have gotten your giggling under control but your eyes were still alight with barely restrained mirth.

"Did you just...belly flop during a drill?" You managed to ask between lingering huffs of hilarity.

"I got distracted," Kuroo grumbled, swiping his wrist across his sweaty brow as he straightened to his full height.

Your giggles ramped back up, louder and utterly uninhibited by the audience of players now freely gawking between you two. Kuroo felt a muscle in his jaw tick with repressed...something. Embarrassment, arousal, or some heady combination thereof.

On impulse, he started stalking towards where you were doubled over the railing, each thump of his shoes against the glossy court unnaturally loud. You glanced up just as his shadow fell over you, giggles sputtering off into silence as you registered the abrupt proximity.

Kuroo halted a scant few inches away, towering over you with his lips pressed into a tight line and hair hanging shaggily in his face. Your own pupils blew wider in response to his sudden looming, cheeks flushed and lips still parted mid-laughter.

Without giving his reckless impulse another second to dissipate, Kuroo bent abruptly at the waist, eliminating the final bare slivers of distance between you. His mouth slanted over yours in a heated, insistent press before you could so much as draw a shocked breath.

For one wild, dizzying heartbeat, the entire world collapsed inwards to the shocking velvet glide of his lips coaxing yours into sliding open. The taste of you exploded across his senses, sweet and addictive like warm honey, making Kuroo's head spin.

Then just as abruptly as he lunged in, he broke away, straightening up with a ragged inhale as if surfacing from underwater. Your face was frozen in an expression of pure, open-mouthed shock, the most delicious shade of crimson blooming in your cheeks as you stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

Kuroo licked his tingling lips, tasting the lingering tang of you there. He didn't dare inch closer and risk shattering the suspended tension. Instead, he simply held your stunned, searching gaze with heavy-lidded certainty.

The sudden spirited whooping and raucous catcalls from his oblivious teammates barely penetrated the electric charge now crackling between your locked stares. Kuroo arched one brow slowly, the ghost of a smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

"We'll call it even for now," was all he said, pitching his voice to be heard only by you.

With that parting remark, he spun on his heel and rejoined the still-chortling huddle of players like a man exiting the eye of the storm. But even with his back turned, he could sense the weight of your speechless, burning stare piercing between his shoulderblades.

A shiver traced his spine, raising the fine hairs along his nape. Oh yes, there would be more fallout and confrontation to come over that impulse. Kuroo could practically taste the promise of it lingering on his tongue.

And when the explosion inevitably came...he suddenly couldn't wait.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou

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megalony · 8 months

Text

Light Duties

This is an Eddie x Reader x Evan imagine, requested by anon. I really like this prompt/ idea and I hope you will all like it. Feedback is always lovely to hear.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is put on light duties at the station when she's pregnant. But the boys start worrying when she becomes ill while on shift.

Enjoy.

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A soft smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she quietly walked into the locker room and noticed Evan slumped down on the bench. He had his shoulders hunched and his back arched forward. Both his knees were spread wide and he had a towel thrown over his shoulder. The vest and button up shirt laid neatly on the bench next to him gave away what he had been doing.

He had been down in the gym for an hour while they had time to spare between callouts.

Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) ran her fingers along the back of his shoulders and up his neck. She felt the way he shivered beneath her touch and he turned his head to kiss her wrist before she let go and moved in front of him towards the lockers.

"Can I help you?" Sarcasm dripped from Evan's teasing tone and he lifted his head up, his lips curved into a smirk on one side as he squinted over at his girl.

She was going into his locker.

"You can, actually. Let me borrow a shirt, please?"

When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, she already knew that batting her eyes had won him over. His smirk faded into a cheesy, warm smile as he tossed the towel down beside him and moved his hands to his knees so he could push himself up to his feet.

He sauntered over until he was stood behind her and Evan rested his right arm against a locker while his other hand cupped (Y/n)'s hip and he looked down at her with raised brows.

"And why should I do that?" He kissed the top of her head but (Y/n) had already found a spare cotton shirt in his locker. She pulled it off the hanger before she shut his locker and turned to face him.

"Because I've officially outgrown all of mine, and that is your fault."

(Y/n) jabbed her finger playfully into Evan's bare chest before she motioned down at her own shirt with a frown. A small huff escaped her lips when Evan let out a laugh and grinned. He may find this highly amusing, but (Y/n) didn't. She couldn't wear her own cotton shirts anymore because they wouldn't stretch over her stomach, so she had been wearing her button up shirts that gave a bit more leeway.

But now her buttons weren't doing up. She had worn her button up shirt for the morning but it was far too tight and she needed to change before she felt sick.

(Y/n) didn't have any other work shirts that were the right size, but lucky for her, both her men had a lot of work clothes that would fit over her six-month baby bump.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Evan pressed his back up against the locker and folded his arms over his chest, making no effort to move or look away.

He quite liked the view he was getting right now. He watched with a grin as (Y/n) unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it over to him so he could put it in her locker he was leaning against. His eyes remained glued to her frame as she stood in her dark navy trousers and matching blue bra. (Y/n) was lucky that when her work trousers wouldn't do up at the clasp, she had some elasticated trousers that were the same colour which she could use for work.

She knew she was lucky she was even still allowed to go out on calls at the moment.

Bobby was monitoring each call (Y/n) went on, she could go on the small, non-evasive callouts and help as a medic. But no heavy lifting, no going into burning buildings or evactuating dangerous situations. No going into the scene at a car crash, she had to stay on the side lines and await orders.

Restricted duties had never felt so boring.

"I won't be able to fit in the truck soon." (Y/n) cast a look over her shoulder when Evan wolf-whistled at her.

She was only joking, mostly.

She was grateful to still be able to work even if that meant stocking the trucks and the ambulance and tidying up or hanging back on most of their calls. She still got to try and help and be somewhat useful, and at least one of her boys was always on shift with her at the moment which was a bonus.

(Y/n) grabbed Evan's shirt and reeled it over her head, smiling triumphantly when she dragged it over her stomach and it fit. It felt a little snug around the waist but it fit and it was loose on her shoulders. As long as she could breathe and move without feeling like a belt was wrapped around her torso, she would be happy.

She tucked it into the hem of her trousers just as she felt Evan's hands clamping down on her hips. His chest pressed up into her back and he kissed the top of her head again.

"Lookin' good." He whispered quietly into her hair before he pulled back and leaned down to drag his shirt over his head and slide his arms into his shirt.

(Y/n) could feel him hovering close behind her when they left the locker room and headed over to the stairs. It seemed to take forever to climb the stairs and (Y/n) was suddenly glad they all lived in a bungalow. It didn't help that her headache was starting to come back with a vengeance and that combined with how lightheaded she felt made her feel like she had vertigo.

Evan's hands found her hips by the time they reached the top of the stairs and he gave her a tight squeeze before he veered off to the right to go and sit down at the table. While (Y/n) made a beeline for the fridge; she wanted a drink to ward off her headache.

It was no secret that the job they all had was stressful and time consuming and that meant they didn't always get to eat or drink regularly enough. (Y/n) had stockpiled the fridge with bottles of water and juice so if anyone wanted one, they could snatch one on the way to a call.

She had been collared enough by Eddie telling her she needed to drink more after she became very dehydrated a few months back. And she would be damned if she let that happen again.

(Y/n) barely had chance to open the fridge before her shoulders hunched up and she cringed when the alarm sounded.

She heaved the door open, grabbed a bottle of orange juice and shut the door just in time to come face to face with Bobby. He dried his hands, checked the oven wasn't turned on, and went to leave the kitchen until (Y/n)'s eyes fell on him.

"Am I on this one?" She had to have Bobby's express permission about which callouts she was allowed to join.

If she couldn't join, (Y/n) ended up tidying up the station, filing some paperwork and doing inventory. The station had never looked so organised since (Y/n) had been put on restricted duties and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she was glad now that she was on light duties. These last two or three weeks had been tiring and (Y/n) was flagging. She was at the point of telling the boys they were right and she had to take things easy. The baby was draining her energy.

Bobby tilted his head up and paid close attention to the dispatch notes to see where they were going. An accident at a bike race downtown. nothing too serious or major, no threats. (Y/n) could join this one.

"Hop in the truck."

She smiled and nodded in response, letting Bobby speed in front of her before she followed along behind him. Evan was already halfway downstairs with Hen and when (Y/n) reached the stairs, Eddie was up from the sofa and stood behind her ready to follow along.

Her head tilted back to look up at him when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Have you shrunk?" Eddie scrunched up her shirt and gave it a small tug as he raised a brow and quirked a smile.

"Quite the opposite," (Y/n) whispered back before she reached her free hand out to hold the railing as they made their descent downstairs.

"I told you." He muttered quietly as he followed her down. Eddie was the one who had been telling (Y/n) for the last few weeks that she needed to change her uniform and start taking things easy. She had been living in denial, desperate to carry on as normal with both her dress code and trying to do her part on the job. It looks like she would finally start to listen to him.

Eddie let his eyes dance across the station towards the truck everyone was aiming towards, and he let his gaze drift away from (Y/n) for a few seconds. But when he looked back down at her, he narrowed his eyes and reached his arm out to curl around her waist. She had slowed down rather than speeding up considering they needed to get into the truck and be on their way.

"Alright?" He mumbled into her hair as he glued his chest up against her back and let his hand flutter along the curve of her stomach.

She hummed and nodded, taking a deep breath as her fingers clenched around the bottle in her hand that started to creak and crumple from her force.

She had a headache.

Her head felt like it was slowly being pumped full of air and the feeling made her skin prickle and come over with shudders and a wave of heat. It was like an odd sense of a hot flush despite her fingertips being cold and a little numb.

She could feel Eddie's hand move to cup her hip when they headed over to the truck. Bobby was in the front with Samuel who was driving, Hen was in the ambulance and Evan and Chimney were already seated in the back of the truck.

(Y/n) tossed her bottle onto the nearest seat and propelled herself up but the moment she got into the truck, it was like her head suddenly weighed a ton. She reached her hand out and braced herself on Evan's knee so she could slump down into the seat next to him with a thud. Her head fell back against the headrest and she closed her eyes, clenching her hand around Evan's knee tight enough to make him frown.

"What's up?" He spoke loud enough to catch Eddie's attention who barely sat down before his head snapped up to look across at both his partners.

Eddie grabbed his belt and snapped it in before he leaned across with his elbows braced on his knees and his hands tight together between his thighs. He reached out and nudged his foot against (Y/n)'s leg when she didn't say anything and stayed rather tense like she was praying.

"Babe?"

"Just a dizzy spell, I'm good."

(Y/n) took a deep breath and released her grip on Evan's thigh and when she opened her eyes, she was relieved that the spots had vanished and her head finally started to simmer down. Her smile reassured the boys just a little but she could see the apprehension in their eyes.

She reached back and grabbed her belt, huffing and muttering a quiet 'Christ' when she had to wrench it to fit it around her stomach. She felt like she had gained three stone in the last two weeks but it was only because she hadn't had that many shifts. She hadn't even been in the truck on her last two shifts because all the callouts were 'too demanding' and serious for her to join.

"Have a drink." Evan reached out for her drink and held it out to her after she grabbed her headset and slumped them over her ears. He draped his arm around the back of her shoulders and turned to look over her head so he could see out the window.

"So, one more month, then you'll be leaving us." Chimney smiled across at (Y/n) from where he was sat opposite Evan, next to Eddie.

She only had one more month on duty, then she would be off on maternity leave. It would be too much stress and hassle working while she would be seven months pregnant. And Bobby had to pull a few strings to let Eddie and Evan both have the same three weeks off work for when the baby was born. It meant the station would be down three of their main workers.

There was a replacement in line for (Y/n) since she was having the longest time off and Bobby was currently searching for two people to come in for a month while the boys were off.

"You gonna miss me?"

"Don't know what we're gonna do without you."

A grin pulled at (Y/n)'s lips despite the headache flooding through her temple again when Bobby piped up and leaned to look in the back of the truck. None of them coped well when they had to have a shift or a change in structure or their team. It would take them a few weeks to get used to a new person being around, and then once they were used to it, (Y/n) would be back and everything would shift again.

"Baby you'll be sick," Evan mumbled against (Y/n)'s hair as he moved his hand off her shoulder and pushed the drink down before she guzzled it all in one go.

(Y/n) nodded and capped the drink, setting the bottle down beside her but she could feel Evan tutting into her hair. She had downed three quarters of it in one go. He knew what would happen, she would down it all and then throw it up, especially since it was orange juice and very acidic. It was what happened when she had morning sickness.

She would throw up, become thirsty, guzzle too much of anything and then throw it back up again because her stomach wasn't settled.

(Y/n) reached her hand up and held onto Evan's hand that was resting on her shoulder. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes, wincing every time the truck went over a bump that jostled her stomach and sent her head reeling. She managed to cross one leg over the other and reached her foot out until she could brush the end of her boot up and down Eddie's leg.

She prayed her headache would lift soon. (Y/n) almost fell asleep by the time to truck rolled to a stop at the park. She shuffled to the right as Evan unbuckled and patted her knee to let her know they were here. She stayed in her seat to let Evan hop up and lead the way off the truck, followed swiftly by Chimney.

A gentle smile lit up Eddie's face as he took off his headset and removed his belt. He pushed up and leaned over (Y/n), swiping the headset from her ears before he squeezed her thigh, muttering a quiet 'come on baby.'

(Y/n) grumbled but complied, unclipping her belt as she shifted and cracked her spine back into place. But when she opened her eyes, her heart jumped up into her throat.

She couldn't see.

Horrible black and white spots sparkled in front of her eyes like shimmering diamonds, covering over half of her vision until she could barely see Eddie stood in front of her. Just when Eddie went to climb down, he stopped and turned back around when (Y/n)'s hands clamped down on his wrist and yanked him back to her. A panicked gasp caught in the back of her throat and her nails scratched into his arm and made him shiver in panic.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Eddie turned back to face her and crouched down until her knees pressed into his chest and he could smooth his hands up and down her thighs.

"I- fuck!" (Y/n) kept her hand deadlocked around Eddie's wrist but she moved her other hand to furiously rub her eyes and try to apply some pressure to her temple to see if it would help. Her head tilted back in the seat and she took a few deep breaths to see if it would do anything to make the air disappear and clear the spots from her eyes.

"Are you having pains? Baby look at me please." He pushed up to crouch over her and pinched her chin in his hand while his other hand moved to try and get her to open her eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to open her eyes in case the spots danced in front of her eyes again but when she dared to open them, a sudden wave of relief overtook her. She could see him again. The spots felt like flashing blinkers that were fading into the background. They became little dots and flickers that she barely noticed and she could see her loving partner hovering over her with a very panicked expression.

"No… oh, just a bad head. It's going now," She tried to smile and released the grip she had on Eddie's wrist when she realised she was squeezing him a bit too tight.

"Baby you should sit this one out-"

"Hey, what are you two doing? Come on, we gotta go." Evan hopped up on the bottom step and leaned into the truck far enough to swat his hand down on Eddie's backside. He grinned at the glare Eddie shot his way over his shoulder and reached out for (Y/n)'s waist when she stood up and held his shoulder as she bypassed Eddie and climbed down.

"She's not feeling well."

(Y/n) pressed her lips together tightly, praying Bobby hadn't heard Eddie's little remark. She didn't need him telling her to sit this one out when she was already here now. There was no point sitting and waiting in the truck feeling like a useless, spare part. She wanted to help while she still could.

Moving to the side of the truck, (Y/n) opened up the hatch and grabbed the medic bag but she barely hooked the strap over her shoulder before Eddie stood in front of her. She thought he was about to tell her to hang back but he just stared her down with a silent, unhappy expression before he took the bag from her and slung it on his shoulder.

"Hey-"

"You're carrying enough already, come on." Evan pressed his hand to her lower back and nodded at her to start walking.

She was about to tell him she wasn't carrying anything at all until she realised he was referring to the baby. Her hand absentmindedly moved to rub along her stomach as they walked just behind the rest of the team.

They cut across the grass and bypassed the crowds hovering around so they could get onto the track. They were in the local park. A bicycle race had taken place this morning but someone had crashed and caused a pile up. Another station and another two ambulances were in tow just behind them to help as they were told they had a few casualties.

"Alright, spread out team you all know what to do. Direct anyone that can walk over to the medic tent set up across the field. Shout when you're ready to transport."

Bobby waved his hand out as a signal for everyone to pick a casualty to help. They needed to get everyone prepped and stable to be transported down to the hospital if they needed treatment. A few of the bikers could get away with a bandaid or a few stitches here and now.

"Off we go," Evan whispered quietly against (Y/n)'s temple as he handed her his medic bag and moved to help Chimney.

(Y/n) took a deep breath to fight off her dull headache and plastered a calm smile on her face. She looked around before moving towards a man sat next to his bike. He looked rather calm and relatively unharmed, she could patch him up and send him over to the paramedics at the tent. It didn't take long to get his broken hand in a splint, bandaged up and him sent on his way to the medical tent for another quick observation.

But once he was off, (Y/n) bowed her head and pressed her hand to her back.

She felt sick.

Her head was swimming. She wanted to throw up, sit down and go to sleep all at once. The spots were coming back in front of her eyes. Little flashing sparkles glazed across her vision and made her head ache and spin and twist horribly. It felt like someone was hitting her repeatedly with a hammer. Maybe she needed another drink. Maybe she was coming down with something. Perhaps she needed to take things a bit slower from now on.

"Oh no- no, someone else can treat me."

Her head lifted up and she looked around to search for the owner of that voice. Whoever it was sounded angry, disgusted and full of sizzling pain.

Her eyes found Hen, knelt down beside a man who was laid just off the side of the track. He was propped up against a tree, both hands cradling his leg as he groaned and tried to stop fidgeting and moving around. But when he looked back up at Hen, he shook his head and leaned away from her. He was refusing to have her treat him.

Hen groaned and turned to look over her shoulder and when her eyes locked with (Y/n), she waved her over.

"Oh God," (Y/n) mumbled quietly as she straightened up and moved her hand from her back to cradle her abdomen. She tried to plaster a smile back on her face as she slowly walked across the grass verge towards them with apprehension in her steps. This didn't feel like it was going to go over well.

"This is (Y/n), is she more to your liking?" The sarcasm dripped from Hen's voice but she did well to control her expression as she got up and backed a few feet away.

He looked to be in his mid-twenties, his helmet was tossed on the floor beside him. He had a very deep gash cut through the back of his knee and it was bleeding out. He needed a turniquet on his leg to stem the bleed, some morphine and they had to check his artery wasn't cut in the process. Then he would have to be a priority to head to hospital to be stitched up.

(Y/n) leaned her hand on the tree and carefully lowered herself down on her knees next to him. She landed with a thud but it felt better to be knelt down than to be stood up with a what felt like vertigo overwhelming her.

"Sir, can I take a look at your leg?"

"God, don't you have any real medics in your squad?"

"I beg your pardon?" The headache pounding behind her eyes got worse and (Y/n) leaned back to rub her hand across her temple. She wasn't in the mood to have some racist, mysoginist demand the best help they had when he wasn't in peril and they were all perfectly adequate at their jobs.

When he refused to answer her and didn't even bother to look at her, (Y/n) turned to look up at Hen. Was he being serious? Was he really refusing their help, refusing treatment, because they were women? What time did he think he lived in, the nineteen-twenties?

"Diaz." Hen waved her hand over towards Eddie who was pointing someone in the direction of the paramedics.

"Diaz? What kind of name is that? Where's he from?"

A frown formed on Eddie's lips and he planted his hands down on his hips as he walked over towards them. He stood behind (Y/n), close enough that he could feel her shoulders pressing back into his thighs. He caught his breaths back and looked between both girls as he waited to be told what was going on, but they didn't need to say much. Their expressions told him they had a tough patient here.

"My dad's Mexican," When the man tutted, Eddie almost smiled. "My mother's Swedish, would you like me to help you with the Swedish half… although I don't know which half that is." Eddie held his hands out before he placed them back down on his hips. This man wasn't going to be satisfied with anyone but a white, privellaged male doctor with an old fashioned name.

"Oh come on, get one of the professionals-"

"Sir, you have three trained medics here trying to help you." Hen jutted a hip out to the side and clasped her hands together in front of her to stop herself from going off on a tangent.

"Trained? He's from the boarder, I don't want to guess where you're from and she's as good as a hormonal teenager. Should she even be here in that condition?"

A rumbling set in around them as the atmosphere changed and all of them could feel it. (Y/n)'s eyes widened and she turned her head to look behind her up at Eddie. He was fuming. She could see his hands starting to shake and his jaw tightened until his teeth were grating together and clicking from side to side. The end of his nose crinkled and he took a very deep breath to calm himself down before he said something he shouldn't.

"I'll inform my Captain that you've refused medical treatment. Feel free to sit there as long as you like." The smile on Eddie's face was laced with sarcasm while he reached down and picked up (Y/n)'s medic bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"I didn't-"

"Sir, you've turned down three medics, not to mention you've just insulted each of us. We have other patients we can tend to." Hen picked up her own bag and turned to find another patient.

When (Y/n) turned to the right, Eddie reached his hands out in front of her to offer to pull her up.

His hands curled around hers and he effortlessly hoisted her up to her feet. Once she was stood in front of him, his hands moved to hold her hips and he smothered his lips against the back of her head as he turned her around and started to guide her away. He wasn't having her around someone like that, he was getting aggressive and that was a danger. And if he refused all three of them, then he was refusing to accept treatment and they couldn't force him to accept their help.

Someone would come along who he was happy with and then he would get the help he needed. Eddie would keep an eye in this direction and tell Bobby what had happened. The man might be satisfied if Bobby helped him since he was a Captain, or they could send Evan his way.

Eddie kept his hand against (Y/n)'s lower back but just as they walked towards the middle of the field where Bobby, Chimney and Evan were all grouped, (Y/n) stopped.

She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth while her other hand clamped down on her hip. (Y/n) turned her head to the left and closed her eyes, doing her best to take in a deep breath and ward off the sudden wave of sickness that washed over her.

"You okay babe?"

"Hm." (Y/n) nodded, keeping her eyes closed as she swallowed and gulped a deep breath but it seemed to make her feel worse.

Her hands moved to grip her thighs and she doubled over, leaning as far forwards as she could to throw up onto the grass. She felt Eddie's hand curve round from her back to hold her hip and his other hand moved to grip her hand in case she lost her balance.

Her throat burned when her lunch crawled back up along with all the fluids she had tried to drink this morning. When she couldn't stop heaving, her stomach twinged and pulled inwards as she gasped for a proper breath.

"Try and breathe for me baby… let's get you back in the truck." Eddie rummaged around in the bag on his shoulder and found a wad of gauze. He handed it out to (Y/n) when she finally stopped being sick and she took it gratefully. His hands cupped her hips and he gently reeled her back up, letting her lean back into his chest while his eyes locked with Evan.

"Are you alright?" Hen bit the corner of her lip and smiled sadly at (Y/n). She had given the boys a reason to end her shift early. She couldn't stay on shift when she'd been sick.

(Y/n) couldn't find the will to speak but she managed to nod her head, covering up a wince when it made her head spin.

"We're almost done here, why don't you wait back in the truck?" Bobby's words were an order, not a suggestion and (Y/n) knew it. She let Eddie walk her back to the truck and when she got up, she felt like someone had drained her into a puddle.

She barely heard Eddie whisper to shout for him if she needed anything and she didn't realise she was nodding and smiling until his touch retracted and she was suddenly alone. Her head slumped against the window and her hands rubbed up and down her thighs until she was scratching her nails into her thighs through her trousers.

She didn't feel good.

It didn't take long for the team to finish up and pile back into the truck. Chimney drove the empty ambulance back to the station while Evan, Eddie and Hen rode back in the truck with Bobby and (Y/n).

(Y/n) felt Eddie sit down next to her and she didn't say a word when he pulled her belt round and placed the headset back over her ears. But when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, (Y/n) grumbled and pulled away. She slumped her cheek onto his shoulder and curled her hands around his arm. She just wanted to get back to the station and try to sit down and have a drink.

"You're flushed," Eddie commented quietly while he moved his fingers to grip her wrist and feel her pulse.

"It's just a headache." She murmured into his skin while Evan sat down on her left and moved his hand to hold her thigh. He took to looking out the window, he knew it was pointless trying to argue with (Y/n). He would talk to Bobby when they got back about taking her home and he and Eddie wouldn't give her a choice.

She needed to rest.

The journey felt a lot less frantic than it did earlier because they were taking a slow ride through traffic. No sirens wailing trying to deafen them, no sharp corners or twisting stomachs from the speed and sharp bends they took. Cruising in the truck felt a lot nicer. But (Y/n) could still feel every bump they went over. She could feel the jolts shooting up her spine and her head lolled back against the seat until it felt like she had a concussion.

When they went over a particularly hard bump, (Y/n) opened her eyes, unable to hide her groan when she realised the dots were blurring her vision again.

Her hands moved to run down her face before she leaned her head back and moved her hand to grip and pull on Evan's arm.

"I- I'm gonna be sick!"

"Cap, pull over, (Y/n) needs to get out." Evan reached his arm behind him and swatted his hand on Bobby's shoulder to grab his attention. They had nothing in the back here for (Y/n) to throw up into and no equipment to help her if she needed a drink or fluids or an exam.

Eddie swiped the headset off his head and did the same to (Y/n)'s before he got up and opened the door when Bobby pulled over on the curb. Eddie hopped down and turned around just as (Y/n) and Evan stumbled out. He was surprised how fast (Y/n) moved but his arms reached out for her when she doubled over and threw up when she barely got onto the pavement.

"Alright, baby let's sit you down." He kissed the back of her head and slowly lowered them both down until they were kneeling on the floor. While Evan moved to stand behind her, both his hands gripping her shoulders to try and give her some comfort.

"Hen-"

"I'm on it." She rounded the side of the truck and grabbed one of the medic bags from the compartment before she moved to kneel on (Y/n)'s other side near Evan.

Eddie placed a monitoring clip on her index finger while (Y/n) closed her eyes and tilted her head back into Evan's chest.

She let Hen take her left arm and slip a blood pressure cuff up around her bicep. The tightening, numb feeling made her head spin and sent her stomach jolting again. Having her blood pressure taken always made (Y/n) feel like her arm was being chopped off and it made her hand go numb.

"BP's elevated and pulse is racing." Hen slipped the cuff off (Y/n)'s arm and listened to her heartbeat. She tried to keep a calm expression, despite feeling both men staring into her when she moved the stethoscope to press it against (Y/n)'s stomach. "Fetal heartbeat sounds good."

Evan sighed and kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head, smiling into her skin as he whispered a quiet 'baby's good' into her hair.

"It's h-happening again."

"What is?" Eddie looked (Y/n) up and down before he glanced up at Evan but his expression was blank, morphing into confusion. Neither of them knew what she was talking about.

"Spots." (Y/n) flailed her free hand around her face until she could point to her eyes. She tried to open them but all she ended up doing was blinking furiously like she was trying to get sand out her eyes. She couldn't see properly. Black spots were dancing across her eyes like they had earlier in the truck with Eddie. She was either going to pass out or she was having vision problems as a sign for something else.

Her hand gripped Evan's wrist on her shoulder when Hen leaned over her and lifted her eyelid so she could flash a light across her pupils. "I think you might be developing pre-eclampsia."

"Dispatch, this is Captain Nash. We're going to redirect to Mercy General, we have a firefighter down. Please advise a midwife to be on standby." Bobby placed his free hand on his hip as he did a quick sweep around. Chimney would be back at the station by now which was a good thing, he could man the station while they turned right and made a quick stop to the hospital.

"Let's get you back inside, babe."

Reaching down, Evan looped his hands beneath (Y/n)'s arms when Eddie and Hen held one of her hands each. He bent his knees and slowly pulled (Y/n) up until she was back on her feet but his lips pressed together tightly when her head fell back on his shoulder and a groan tumbled past her lips.

"Don't you pass out on us, hm?" Evan pecked her temple and turned her around to face the truck. His arms cocooned into her waist and his hands held her stomach.

He could feel Hen hovering nervously behind him while Bobby got back in the truck and Eddie climbed up in front of them so he could reach down for (Y/n)'s hands and pull her up.

Once she was up, (Y/n) let her head slump forward into Eddie's chest and her knees caved. She didn't feel Evan digging his hands into her skin as he pulled her back into him and twisted to the side to ease her down into one of the seats. They strapped her belt round her and Eddie let her head slump back on his shoulder so she wasn't at risk of falling forwards and crumpling over like a piece of paper.

Evan kept one hand on (Y/n)'s stomach while he stretched his other arm across the back of her and Eddie's seats. He leaned forward to kiss the back of (Y/n)'s head while Eddie brushed his thumb across her jaw.

"What're we gonna do with you, hm?"

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #pregnant! reader #911 imagine #imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #eddie x buck #eddie diaz imagine #buck x eddie #eddie x reader #bobby nash

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shogunish · 1 year

Text

𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆.

pairing. pervy roommate! gojo x f! reader

genre. (implied) friends to lovers, smut

warnings. panty sniffing, gojo jacks off with reader's panties, hair-pulling, pet names (doll, love), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick gojo, choking, gojo and reader are in their late teens ok (18 - 19), fingering

words. 6k

summary. satoru always hated laundry day, but now he's quite fond of it. after all, he gets to see all your cute panties and steal a pair for his personal use.

note. i want to use his cum as a face mask and this is the result 👩🏻‍🦯

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

"Satoru, you're–"

"Handsome, intelligent, charming and funny." A smirk graces Satoru's features and he probably would've flipped his hair if it was any longer. He sends you a cheeky wink as he leans against the kitchen counter, as full of himself as ever as he strikes a pose that would make any girl swoon for him. "Yeah, I know."

Well, any girl but you.

Sometimes, you wonder why you agreed to be Satoru's roommate. Maybe it was the fact that Jujutsu dorms cost so much that you couldn't handle the finances on your own and like the snake in Adam and Eve's garden, Satoru seduced you into this hilarious arrangement.

"I've got the money," he said.

"It'll be fun," he said.

A sigh slips your lips and if it weren't for the laundry basket in your hands, you would've put your palm to your head. This man is the sole cause of all your headaches. "You're doing the laundry today."

And with an echoing smack, you drop the laundry basket in front of his feet with your infamous are-you-kidding-me look.

"Again?!" Satoru pouts as he begrudgingly picks up the basket of dirty laundry and glares at the clothes like they're his sworn enemy, his arch nemesis. "I did them like two weeks ago, right? This counts as roommate abuse, I'm certain!" Is that a whine you hear in his voice?

Crossing your arms over one another, you pop your hip to the side and raise a fine eyebrow at your stupidly handsome roommate. "And I did them last week. It's your turn now, Satoru," your voice is stern as you bend over slightly in an accusing way. "While I signed up to deal with your chaotic ass, you signed up to do the laundry every two weeks!"

The daggers your eyes throw at Satoru make him think twice about dishing out another smart comment, but he can't help it. He thinks you're cute when you glare at him like this, hands on your hips and the hint of your cleavage blessing his Six Eyes. It's the only reason why he winds you up like this.

"Whoa there! If you keep glowering like this, you'll get wrinkles!," Satoru snickers as he dashes into the bathroom before you could cuss him out or toss another piece of laundry at his head. For some reason, you had once managed to toss a pair of his dirty boxers at his head from around the damn corner.

Satoru swears up and down that you put cursed energy into your throw, but you deny all accusations like you're a saint.

"No idea what you're talking about," you smiled.

"Maybe it got possessed by the laundry curse," you said.

He still calls bullshit on your claims.

Satoru finds himself sitting on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It's a little small with the laundry basket by his side, but he'll survive..right?

A bored look settles down on his face as he glances at the laundry, sighs in agony and grabs two articles of clothing, one being white, the other being a bright baby blue. In the back of his head, he can hear you nagging him about something..something seemingly important.

What was it again..?

Ah, right.

"Remember to separate the whites from the colored ones," Satoru mocks you in a high-pitched voice as he disregards your advice with purpose and stuffs your baby blue summer dress into the washing machine along with his snow white dress shirt.

Honestly, what could go wrong? The laundry coming out fresh and clean? Boohoo, what a bummer. It'd be a shame if the two of you had good-smelling clothing. How scary.

Pettily, Satoru tosses the laundry into the washing machine piece after piece. As he reaches the bottom of the laundry basket, interest gleams in his eyes as he spots the couple of bras and panties you hid underneath all the clothing and his underwear (which he always boldly and responsibly puts in the laundry!).

After several months of living together, Satoru has seen your underwear more times than he can count and he wonders why you're still so embarrassed about it. He's seen all your granny panties.

A pair of simple, dark purple panties catch his attention. Nimble fingers are quick to pick them up and Satoru regards them with..intrigue. They're plain and it's obvious you haven't gotten laid yet, but there's a cute little bow at the front. These must be new, he concludes.

Your nude feet are still parading around the kitchen as you diligently clean the space just like the two of you agreed on and it'd take a while for you to finish your part of the deal. Nevertheless, Satoru quietly shuts the door just in case..

"These are cute..," he muses to himself and stretches the fabric with his two index fingers. Lips pursed in thought, brilliant blue eyes scrutinize the panties with a certain glint like he's assessing, judging them over the rim of his pitch black sunglasses.

This is a good pair of panties, but nowhere as cute as the ones with the floral patterns; those are Satoru's personal favorites that are still hidden in his nightstand's drawer. He swears he's no pervert, but he can't help himself!

You're nothing but sweet to Satoru, always offering him the last slice of pizza and taking care of him when he's sick. A cute red hue dusts your cheeks whenever he teases you and oh, the way you stumble over your words when he compliments you! You get so awkward, it's cute.

What does Shoko call you? Ah right, a girlfailure.

Luckily for you, Satoru is very much into the girlfailure he shares the dorm with, although he hides it well behind an exterior of teasing, banter and his natural charm.

Once Satoru is done inspecting your panties, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling a little ball of heat form in the pit of his stomach. He gulps down the lump in his throat. There's no scent sweeter than that of your pussy when you got your own panties wet. It's obvious on that little wet patch darkening the fabric a tad bit.

Oh, how adorable you have to be when your little cunt gets excited, soaks your panties and you can't do anything about it.

"Hmm..," Satoru hums in thought before stuffing that certain pair of panties into his pockets. "I'll keep these for research purposes."

It's late at night when Satoru tosses and turns in his bed. It's not the summer heat that makes it hard to fall asleep, but the thought of you. The way you'd show off your legs in those little shorts, your cleavage blessing his glimmering eyes from underneath the top and the way you are..you around him.

All of it gets to him in ways that he could never say out loud or else you'd kick him out in an instant.

"This sucks," Satoru groans and tosses an arm over his eyes, rolling around in self-pity. Who would've guessed that he'd fall for the cute new classmate who has as much of an attitude as he does? Maybe if you weren't like this, he wouldn't be lying on his back, fighting back a raging boner as he thinks about your sweet smile.

Satoru tries ignoring it. He thinks of Yaga's cursed corpses, Shoko calling him a loser for staring at you like a love-struck puppy and the way you felt in his arms when he had to save you from a curse.

He sighs in agony. Enough is enough!

Satoru hooks his fingers into the elastics of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. A wet smack bounces off the walls as his cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, twitching and throbbing. Satoru groans.

The tip is flushed a pretty shade of red and pre-cum oozes from the slit, pooling on his heated skin. His cock is curved upwards and certainly doesn't lack in thickness or length. A pretty vein runs across the sensitive skin, starting from the base and going all the way up to the flushed tip.

Shit..," Satoru cusses softly and briefly leans his head back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just thinking about you wearing those cute panties, pushing them to the side and sheathing his cock in your tight hole is enough to get him this hard, to get him this eager to fuck you.

But he can't.

You'd likely slap the living daylights out of him.

Satoru wraps your used panties around his hand like he's done many, many times before before he fists his cock. One drag up and another one going down. The soft fabric of your panties rub him just the right way, drawing a deep groan from the depth of his chest.

"Fuck, [Name]..," he breathes out and gradually begins rubbing his cock at a steady pace. "You'll be the death of me.."

Satoru can no longer help himself. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, thinking of your cute smile. The way you call out his name, come crawling to him when you need comfort and not to mention you accidentally flashed him your panties when you were up against a curse.

But that's not all. He can only imagine sinking himself into your cunt, stretching you out and making you cry as he fucks you into the mattress. Certainly, he'd leave your greedy pussy leaking of his cum and wanting more until he'd overstimulate himself.

Satoru moves his fist faster and tightens his grip around his cock. Pre-cum stains the dark fabric of your panties that slide along his length so effortlessly, like you've chosen that specific pair just for him to use.

"Crap, just a bit more..," he mumbles, voice thick with a mix of longing and lust alike.

One tight drag upwards, he uses his thumb to massage the swollen head of his cock, squeezing some more pre-cum out. The white essence stains his fist, your used panties and trickles down the length of his cock until the drops pool at his heavy balls.

Would you let him use your hand like that?

Scratch that, why would he cum over your delicate hand when he could fuck your mouth, have tears streaming down your cheeks and cum down your little throat?

Yeah, that seems much better.

"Fuck, yeah.. Just like that.." Satoru's abs twitch in anticipation and his cock twitches in his hands as he gradually speeds up. The scent of your panties invades his nose, making him delirious and clouding his mind. All he can think about is cumming in your pretty panties.

His hips buck up into his fists and he quickly wraps the crotch of your panties around the tip. He's so close he can taste it. "Ah.. Ngh.. Fuck.. Yes, yes, yes!"

The movement of Satoru's fist is messy, almost needy as he finally cums with your name on his tongue. "Ah fuuck, [Name].."

Pearly white cum stains the fabric of your panties and soaks them as Satoru rubs himself through his orgasm, milking himself of every last drop. Groans and moans generously spill from his lips as he thinks of you, your perfect lips wrapped around his tip and swallowing his cum like a good girl.

Sweat trickles down his temple as he comes down from his high, soft huffs escaping his lips. Pulling the panties away from the head of his cock, Satoru stares at the pool of cum like he's entranced.

He wonders if you'd wear those with his cum on them, his seed sticking to your pretty pussy all damn day.

"Shit.." Satoru wants to discard the panties, let them join the laundry basket so you wouldn't notice but when his brilliant blue eyes flutter open, they suddenly meet your gaze.

Your eyes are wide, lips parted and your tongue slides out to wet them. A glimmer of shock swims in your eyes and a hue of red dusts the apples of your cheeks.

All you wanted was to seek out his company since you had trouble sleeping, but when you opened the door just a tiny bit, you suddenly watch Satoru shamelessly jacking himself off with your newest pair of panties. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot deny the throb between your legs or the wetness pooling there.

He looked..pretty when he came.

Satoru groans. "Instead of watching, you could help a guy out, you know?"

"Excuse me..?" Your ears must be deceiving you just like your eyes. Certainly, this has to be a very realistic dream in which you catch Satoru jacking off, but you'd wake up soon, right? You'd wake up and keep this dream to yourself to save yourself from Satoru's onslaught of teasing words.

Clicking his tongue, Satoru sits up on his bed and pets the spot beside him. "You can't sleep, right? C'mere, I'll help you out."

Yes, this definitely has to be a fever dream of yours.

Against your better judgment, you sit down right next to your roommate who still has your panties - which are stained with his cum - in his fist. The mattress dips with your weight and you shyly fold your hands in your lap. You can't bring yourself to look Satoru in the eyes. Not when his cock is out in the open and standing at attention again.

"Look at me," Satoru demands and for a brief second, you do look at him only to bashfully avoid your gaze again. He thinks nothing of it. Grabbing your chin, he makes you look at him and your lips part in shock once more. "What's wrong, hm? You're usually not so..shy," he teases in low, raspy tones.

In the dim light of the little lamp on his nightstand, being dipped in soft orange hues, your eyes glimmer. Words don't come to you easily, your throat feels tight. How the hell are you supposed to react?

"This is..weird," you manage to squeak out and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment.

Satoru looks at you and then down at himself. He must admit that it is quite the entertaining situation with his dick whipped out, but with the way you're not pushing him away, he knows he's got you on the hook. All you need is a little bit of..coaxing.

"It's only weird if you want it to be." Satoru leans in until his lips are on your ear, whispering right into it. His hot breath sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and his lips press a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear. The kissing sound is soft, yet so wet.

"Satoru, you're–"

"Shh, just relax..," he whispers into your ear. Cupping your jaw lovingly, slow kisses travel from your ear to your cheek and end up on your lips. His kiss is firm, slow, yet there's a certain amount of desire laced into it like he wants you to drown in the pleasure along with him.

You hold Satoru's gaze through half-lidded eyes as your lips move in perfect sync; the result of having worked together for several years now. A firework of butterflies goes off within your tummy, sparking a fire and setting the blood within your veins ablaze. You can't fight it anymore.

Not when he kisses you like he loves you.

When Satoru sneaks his tongue past your lips and draws a soft moan from you, he smiles into the kiss. He finally has you where he's been wanting you for so long. You melt into his strong arms and paw at his chest like you want something more from him, but all he does is chuckle at your silent plea.

Breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his and your breath comes out in short huffs. Satoru smiles as he sees the hazy look on your face. "That's a good girl," he praises. "In the end, you're just my girl, aren't you?" He's oh-so-gentle when he strokes your cheeks and you swear..you're falling for him. Hard.

You nod your head. "Yes. I'm..your girl."

"Come here." Satoru cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss, this time sneaking his tongue past your lips. He draws a surprised gasp from your lips, but he pays it little to no mind as you melt into the kiss. Freely, he explores your mouth and shoves his tongue in just a bit deeper.

Your fingers bury themselves in his hair as you let your back down onto the mattress, pulling Satoru down with you. He gets comfortable between your legs and uses one hand to caress the skin of your upper thigh. Oh, you're so soft compared to his calloused hands.

He trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck where he playfully nibbles at the sensitive skin. Frisky lips suckle your skin between his teeth, sucking pretty hues of purple and blue into your skin. Your hands grasp his tee, a pleasured hiss slips your lips. "S-Satoru.."

Satoru smiles. You sound so cute.

But he doesn't stop there. No. Calloused hands grip your waist and Satoru trails his kisses and bites lower towards your collarbone and furrows his brows when he comes into contact with the sorry excuse of a top you're wearing. It irritates him, but he knows just the way to solve it.

"Off with it." With one swift motion, he pulls your top up and off, tossing it into some corner of his room. Sitting up on his knees, brilliant blue eyes drink your body in.

Those rosy cheeks and shimmering eyes, the curve of your collarbone and your perky little tits begging for his attention. Your waist feels just right in his large hands.

Satoru can't help but smirk. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?," he muses more to himself than you and before you can say anything, he dips his head low and greedily. sucks your nipple into his mouth.

Arching your back off the mattress, you moan his name in broken syllables. White strands of hair tickle your skin, but that's not even the most distracting thing. It's the way he grabs your tits, gropes them and swirls his tongue around your nipples.

"A-ah, Satoru!" Your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots, but Satoru pays you no mind. In fact, he groans in appreciation. "Slow down!," you beg but he skillfully ignores your pleas like always.

"Are they sensitive?" Satoru pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop and smirks as it glistens in his saliva. "They look sensitive." Grabbing a new handful of your tits, he squeezes them harder until you whine, kiss-swollen lips parted and all. You curl your toes and dumbly nod your head. "Of course they are.."

Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, Satoru leans in until his lips brush against the conch of your ear. He gives it a slow, tantalizing lick. "You're so responsive and sensitive. I can't wait to hear you when I sink my cock into you," he whispers into your ear, voice rough and thick with primal lust.

"Then do it," you whine and buck your hips up into his. Your clothed pussy grinds into his cock in delicious ways. You can feel his size through the material and briefly wonder how he's supposed to fit. "Just fuck me already, Toru.."

Your begging catches Satoru off-guard. He blinks at you once, twice before his lips crack into a mischievous smile. "My, my, you're so impatient and demanding for a virgin." It feels like he's mocking you as he's pulling his tee off, revealing his toned abs to your greedy little hands. "I've gotta prep you a bit, doll. Or else you'll whine about how it's too big."

With blazing, fond eyes, Satoru watches you as your hands appreciatively wander from his toned stomach all the way up to his muscled chest. Your gentle touch is enough to leave a burning path behind that makes his muscles twitch underneath the tips of your fingers.

"I would never..," you mumble absent-mindedly, soft palms stroking his flexing biceps all the way down to his forearms. You've seen Satoru shirtless countless times and yet, you never quite realized just how..built he really is. It's about damn time you appreciate him, right?

"Oh baby.. Yes, you would.." Satoru grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding it to the elastic of his shorts and boxers, encouraging you to pull them off completely.

You take a steady breath through your nose and hold his gaze while pulling off the rest of his clothes, tossing them away like he did earlier. For a moment, you don't dare to look any lower than his mesmerizing eyes. It felt..indecent, but isn't that the fun part?

"There we go," Satoru snickers once the remaining clothes are off your body and on his bedroom floor. He's shameless as he grabs your knees and forces your legs open to stare at your leaking cunt. The lips are glossy and sticky with arousal. If he looks closely, he can see your tight walls fluttering around nothing. "Fuck..gonna loosen you up a bit first, okay? It'll feel good, trust me."

"Y-yes.." You nod your head, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru kneels in-between your legs and uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips open. Long fingers massage your messy lips to get you used to the feeling, steadily rubbing them up and down before his fingers go to brush your clit.

"Ah!" You curl in on yourself, your thighs want to squeeze shut but are stopped by Satoru's slim waist. "Satoru, that's–!"

"Good, isn't it?" He finishes your sentence with a smug expression on his face and cocks his head to the side as he watches you squirm. His thumb teases your clit in slow circles, playfully flicking the nub a few times until you're moaning his name. Oh, Satoru's having way too much fun touching you like this.

"Yes, yes! O-oh!" Your eyes go wide as Satoru lathers his fingers in your essence and glides his middle finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it into your tight cunt. "It feels..funny.."

Satoru laughs. It's loud and melodious and makes you blush deeply. "Don't worry. You'll feel good in a moment. Just relax and enjoy it, doll."

Gently, Satoru curves his finger upwards and thrusts it in and out of your cunt. The initial uncertainness on your face morphs into pleasure and your head drops back into the pillows. Soft moans and sighs spill from your lips, your legs fall open. Pleasure begins to cloud your mind.

"Good girl," he praises you and lowers himself on top of you to press a kiss to your cheek. "All you have to do is take my fingers one by..," Satoru trails off and eases his ring finger into your cunt, gently rubbing that sweet spot within you. "..one."

"Ngh..ah..oh god.." You dig your fingers into the sheets below and arch your back, pressing your tits flush against his hard chest. With twitching thighs, you grind your hips into Satoru's skilled fingers and moan your praises right into his ear. "More.. Need more.."

"You're still a bit too tight for my cock, love," Satoru chuckles as he picks up the pace, fingerling your little pussy in scissoring motions. "I don't wanna see you cry about it..yet."

Each time he drills his fingers into you, his skin smacks against yours, making your hole squelch embarrassingly loud. Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as Satoru effortlessly pokes that sweet spot that you could never reach. Excitedly, your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and welcoming his index finger.

The stretch burns in delicious ways as he spreads his fingers a bit, making sure to spread you a bit before he'd fuck you.

"There we go," Satoru murmurs once you can take all three of his fingers and your juices drip onto the sheets. The smile gracing his lips almost seems to be one of pride. "Think you can take me yet, doll?"

Hastily, you nod your head. "Yes, please! I want you so bad, Toru.."

Satisfied with your answer, Satoru slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, a thin string of arousal following the tips of his fingers. Your juices are webbed between his fingers and he can't help but admire it for a moment before licking his fingers clean.

"Mhh..I can't wait to put my mouth on you next time," Satoru muses as your taste clouds his taste buds. But where's the fun when he's the only one tasting your juices? With a smirk, he pries your lips open and slides his fingers into your mouth. "Go on. Taste yourself."

A soft expression falls over your face as you wrap your tongue around Satoru's fingers and suck on them. The taste of your cunt has you flushing from your chest up. This is filthy, something you've never even thought of doing, but with Satoru..you'd nearly do everything he demands of you. And so you eagerly suck his fingers clean with a little moan.

Once he's certain you've done your job right, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your mouth and absent-mindedly wipes them dry on the sheets. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls your body flush to his and pushes you into the mattress with his weight. His breath fans across your cheeks.

"This might sting a bit, doll. But you'll get used to it, yeah?," he assures you. Although he appears so composed and level-headed, one glance towards his cock is enough to let you know that he's just as impatient as you are.

Your eyes fall back to his and you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay..I can take it."

Satoru smiles and locks your lips with his as he swiftly thrusts his hips against yours, sheathing his cock within your tight walls. It's a messy kiss; you whine into his mouth as he stretches your cunt out and slowly goes deeper, deeper, deeper. Your nails are buried in his scalp, pulling at his hair and your breath comes out in pathetic huffs.

Once he's balls deep in your pussy, Satoru breaks the excuse of a kiss and rests his forehead on your own, composing himself. A steady huff slips his lips as he tries his best to keep still. "Fuck.. I loosened you up and you're still so fucking tight," he groans.

Satoru's words send a shiver down your spine and your walls seem to suck him in a bit deeper. "Shit.. You're b-big..," you say, voice a bit high-pitched but sugary sweet.

He laughs, gently. That's the sort of ego boost someone like Gojo Satoru definitely doesn't need. "I told you it'd be a tight fit."

Large palms caress your thighs and hips while he's peppering kisses up and down your neck. "Tell me when I can move, doll.."

For a moment, you bask in the attention Satoru so generously provides you with. Little kisses, gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The pain of the stretch slowly ebbs away and you nod your head. "Move, Toru..," you mumble with a desperate edge. "Please move.."

You don't have to tell him twice. Satoru pulls his hips back until only the tip remains and slowly thrusts back into your cunt with a deep grunt. Dull fingernails bury themselves into the skin of your hips as he sets a slow pace and draws moan after sweet moan from your lips.

Your toes curl. Satoru's cock presses into all the right spots that you could never reach on your own. He wipes all worries and every possible thought from your mind. You throw your head back into the pillows and arch your back, tits bouncing with each thrust he delivers to your freshly popped cunt. "Ah..mh..fuck yes.."

Your moans increase in volume and pitch; he picks up the pace and buries his face in the crook of your neck where he bites into the skin to muffle his own noises, claiming you as his. "Crap..so tight..so wet.." A few curses fall from Satoru's lips.

Pushing you further into the mattress, Satoru grabs your wrists and pins them up above your head; you don't even seem to notice. He finishes each thrust with a roll of his hips and groans whenever your gummy walls flutter around him, needing him to stay right where he is.

Suddenly, your eyes go wide and a little scream is torn from your throat. "Ah! Toru! Right there!"

"Right here?," Satoru rolls his hips into yours again, placing his large palm on your lower abdomen, only to draw the very same reaction from you. You rapidly nod your head, lip bitten between your teeth. He smirks. "So that's the spot, huh.."

Satoru interlaces your fingers together and begins abusing that spot for good measure. His cock drills into your poor pussy over and over again as you moan and squirm underneath him. Around his waist, your thighs shake. Your juices drip down your ass and his balls, making each smack just a tad bit louder, filthier. His groans mix with your moans and little babbles.

The way you look at him through half-lidded eyes, taking his pounding like you're made for him specifically and offering your body for his pleasure. It's all too much for Satoru.

"Shit..can't make love to you when you're looking at me like this." Letting go of your hands, Satoru swipes his sweaty strands of hair back and briefly pulls out of you. Calloused palms grip your waist and easily flip you flat on your stomach.

A squeak of surprise slips your lips as your face is suddenly in the pillows and the way you look at him over your shoulder is probably awkward, too. "Toru..?," you ask through heavy pants.

Hands still on your waist, Satoru uses his strength to push you into the mattress, to keep you from squirming. "Hold still. I need to fuck you, doll."

There's no need to question what exactly he means by that when his cock bullies its way into your small cunt again. This time, you cry his name into the pillows and lightly kick your legs as he drills right into that spot that makes you see stars.

Satoru is no longer gentle with you as he fucks into you over and over again, shamelessly using your body like he's dreamed of for so long now. All the cute noises you make only fuel him more until he's pounding you into the mattress.

Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, all you can do is moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. Any bit of decency or shame is wiped clean from your mind as Satoru drills his cock into you with precision.

"Still such a tight little pussy..," Satoru laughs, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. "Do you like it that much when I use you like this? Tell me."

A rough hand grips the roots of your hair on the top of your head as Satoru leans over your body, pressing his front flush to your back as he continues to pound away at your pussy. His mouth is right at your ear, groaning into it. "C'mon, use your big words like you always do, doll."

Tears gather at your eyes and they're quick to run down your cheeks. You can hardly think straight, much less form a coherent sentence with the way he's treating you. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together before your voice comes out as a broken moan paired with sobs. "I love it, Toru! Don't stop, please.. Please, please don't stop.. Feels too good.."

Satoru groans at your words and rewards you with a particularly sharp thrust. The hand in your hair slides down around your throat, choking you lightly as he catches your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.

Your eyes roll back again as Satoru easily dominates your tongue. The slippery muscles slide against each other, getting all tangled up and making saliva slip from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts into your mouth, his lips finding yours a few times like he needs more of your taste.

"Toru..," you whine, lips swollen from all the kissing and glossy with his saliva. "I'm gonna.. Ah! Oh God!"

"I know baby," Satoru hushes you softly. By the way your cunt clenches around him sporadically, your shaking thighs and those hot tears rolling down your cheeks, he can tell you're close. "Let it go. I've got you."

Your orgasm comes crashing down on you with one skilled roll of Satoru's hips. A yell of his name tears through your throat as you cum all over his cock, making a mess of his lap and the sheets below. He keeps you in check as you squirm and sob and he whispers sweet praises into your ear that go in one ear and out the other. He helps you ride the waves of your high.

"Fuck, gonna fill this sweet pussy up..," Satoru groans and thrusts into your abused cunt a few more times before he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name loudly as he squirts thick ropes of cum right inside. His hips come to a halt as he grinds his essence deeper into you until it seeps out from where he's plugging your hole so deliciously.

For a while, you bask in Satoru's weight collapsing on top of you as he holds you impossibly closer and caresses your lower stomach with sweaty palms. Lazily, he peppers sweet kisses along your neck and pushes your sweaty hair away from his path so he can nuzzle into you all he wants. Snowy strands of hair tickle your face.

"That was..," you start, still out of breath.

"..amazing," Satoru finishes for you with a chuckle.

Not long after, Satoru is kind enough to pull out of you and clean up the mess he's caused. Every once in a while, he claims that it's mainly you who caused the mess since you were, quote "dripping wet", but he's just teasing you, changing not only the sheets but cleaning you up with a damp cloth as well.

Satoru slides right underneath the covers with you and lets you rest your head on his chest while holding you close to his body. Although the room smells like sex, the two of you savor the post-orgasm glow and just..hold each other.

"You know, you're quite the pervert for watching me jack off," Satoru breaks the silence and draws a faux offended gasp from you. Playfully, you smack his chest and he snickers. You always give him such perfect reactions.

"It's you who's the pervert! You jacked off with my panties!" It explains why all your panties disappear for a while only to suddenly spawn from the washing machine.

Satoru rolls his eyes. "Duh? How could I help myself when they're so cute? It's your fault, obviously."

The both of you banter back and forth for a while, mixed with laughter and giggles that fill the room. Despite the fact that Satoru is a panty stealer, the moment is quite sweet. You're glad that you can still laugh with him like this after having done..unspeakable things.

Once the laughter dies down and your eyes grow heavy, you feel like you should confess one more thing before drifting off to dreamland in Satoru's arms. Your voice is quiet and soft as you speak. "I've..used a pair of your boxers.."

Satoru tightens his arm around you and takes a breath through his nose. "Have you touched yourself in them?"

Silence follows, speaking volumes about the deeds you have committed.

"..Can I sniff them?"

"You pervert!"

"Objection! You're just as messed up as I am!"

feel free to send me your jjk thirsts/thoughts and i'll write a lil' something <3

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo satoru smut

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

lucky

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt finally gets to take out the girl that's been leaving care packages at his door for two months.

warnings: swearing, slight angst, tooth rotting fluff (might need to call your dentist after this one)

word count: 3k

a/n: the highly requested fluffy sequel to care packages. thank you to everyone that requested this. i hope you enjoy your first date with matty. ❤️ as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

“I hate you, you know that?”

Matt nearly spit out his coffee as he lurched over the conference table slightly, forcing the lukewarm bitter taste down his throat as a wave of incredulous laughter tore through his chest.

“What? Why?”

“Because it isn’t fair. It’s bad enough you’re so goddamn charming, and it’s borderline offensive that you’re like the most attractive dude I’ve ever seen. Not to mention that whole wounded duck routine you’ve got going on that makes all the girls fall at your feet-”

“Foggy, I don’t-”

“-but what’s exceptionally unacceptable is that you somehow managed to find a girl that knows about the horns, and not only didn’t run away, but still agreed to go out with you. Like the fact that you’re a vigilante and a walking human disaster totally didn’t phase her at all. That’s…like…against the rules!”

Matt couldn’t help but snicker at the disgruntled tone lacing his best friend’s exasperated voice, and the way the edges of Foggy’s mouth dipped in displeasure.

“What rules, Foggy?”

“The rules of the universe, Matt. You’ve had too much good fortune-

“Right, like being blinded and orphaned-”

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m talking about-”

“Guys, please. If you two keep bickering, Matt’s gonna be late. He’s lucky she’s even going out with him at all. Can we finish this?”

Karen glanced between Matt and Foggy with an arch of her brow, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to capture her lips as Matt’s teasing grin faltered into a purse of his lips from that bruise to his ego.

“Wow. Thank you…for that vote of confidence, Karen.”

“It’s true and you know it. Now, both of you sign these damn papers so we can get out of here before she changes her mind.”

Foggy’s expression suddenly turned serious as he focused his attention solely on Matt, staring at him with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.

“I swear to God, Murdock. If you fuck up my pipeline to those crack cookies, I will never forgive you. You better turn that Matthew Murdock charm up to a million, you got me? I want those cookies, Matt. Cookies.”

»»———　　———««

It had been five days since Matt had asked you to dinner, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Between the slew of court cases he was elbow deep in and the extra patrol he’d been doing at the docks to bust a trafficking ring, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to you again. He couldn’t feel your presence when he awoke past his alarm in the mornings, and when he finally got home at the Devil’s hour, he could hear you below him sleeping soundly in your bed.

For the past five nights, the harmony of your heart’s rhythm had eased him into a peaceful sleep like a serene lullaby.

But Karen’s words had anxiety filling every single cell in his body as he navigated the bustling streets of Hell’s Kitchen.

What if you had changed your mind?

It had been five days. Five days without getting to speak to you again. Five days without another care package.

That wasn’t unusual, right?

You didn’t follow a strict schedule with them. The drop offs were usually every few weeks. It just wasn’t time for one.

Or maybe you didn’t want to deliver any more of them.

Maybe the reality of who and what he was sank in and gave you cold feet.

Maybe this was over before it began.

“Fuck.”

Matt felt like he was losing his mind playing the role of the plaintiff and the defendant in the case of had he royally fucked this up already. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous to go on a date. Maybe it was because you were the first person he was going on a date with as himself. Not one half concealing the other. Not with a pre-spun web of lies to cover his tracks. Not with a rehearsal to remember to play down his abilities.

All his cards were out on the table, and while he felt an absolute rush of liberation that you knew the truth already, the consequences of that truth were daunting and seemed to be lurking around every corner of his mind. By the time he reached his door, his clammy hands kept slipping over his key, and sweat had started to bead uneasily along his hairline.

Should he call this whole thing off?

He really didn’t want to.

Did you want him to call it off?

He prayed you didn’t.

Had you been thinking about him for the past five days too?

He really hoped so.

»»———　　———««

When Matt finally made it to your door, he was nearly out of breath and his cheeks were flushed with heat. He had changed three times because you had, and he didn’t want to be over or underdressed. He focused his senses intently on you, trying to decipher the materials and textures of the outfit you finally settled on. You had music playing as you got ready, and for a few moments Matt just paused and listened to you hum along. You seemed to be in a good mood, and that eased his nerves considerably.

Was it wrong for him to invade on your privacy like that? The angel on his shoulder was already adding it to the laundry list for his confession on Sunday. But the Devil in him argued that he was going to hear you anyway. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help what his senses picked up.

Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet you at your door, Matt panicked and realized he hadn’t got you any flowers, and promptly ran down the street in search of a vendor. He spent eight minutes trying to pick some out. He didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, and roses felt too cliche and insincere. He wanted to pick something special, something that showed he put thought into them, even if he had run to get them right before he was supposed to pick you up.

The vendor had talked him into a bouquet of violet peonies, and since he didn’t have time to spare, he raced back praying that this was the one flower you didn’t hate or God forbid were allergic to.

Matt took a moment to gather himself outside your door; wiping the sweat from his brows with the back of his hand, attempting to steady his rapid breathing, smoothing his windblown hair back into place, and reciting a quiet Lord’s Prayer for good measure.

When his knuckles finally collided with your door to knock, he didn’t know if his heart was racing from the marathon he had just run, or because of you.

The light patter of your feet eagerly approaching the door caused a smile to grace his lips, and once he tuned out the sound of his own heart raging in his ears, he could hear yours fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird.

You were nervous too.

There was a bright smile on your lips, and a light twinge of embarrassment from how quickly you had flung your door open, and you let out a quiet laugh at your own expense.

“Hi Matthew.”

God, he had forgotten how melodic your voice sounded, and how much he suddenly loved his own name hearing it fall from your lips.

“Just Matt, is okay. Only my priest calls me Matthew. And, well…a few judges in the courtroom. And my partners when I cause them undue stress in the workplace. I mean you…you can call me whatever you want, whatever’s more comfortable. It’s just-it’s kinda formal, and you don’t have to-”

“Matt’s nice. I like Matt.”

“Matt likes you.”

Matt internally grimaced as those words slipped past his lips, and the mixture of disapproval and mortification on his face from his own blunder caused a fit of giggles to erupt from your mouth.

“Well, then we’re on the same page. Glad we’ve covered that base for tonight.”

He let out a breathy chuckle as he dipped his head for a moment, trying to find the source of his usual easy charm to refuel his glaring depletion. He cleared his throat as tilted his head to the side slightly, gazing blankly past his crimson glasses in the direction of your face with a somewhat shy smile on his full lips while delicately handing you the bouquet.

“I uh…didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, but the guy said these were the prettiest ones he had.”

Warmth spread across the tops of your cheeks when your fingers lightly brushed against his to retrieve his thoughtful offering, your lips immediately splitting into a wide grin.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Matt. I love peonies. How did you know purple was my favorite color?”

Matt perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter as a proud, dimple-showcasing, toothy grin took over his mouth.

“Lucky guess.”

“Do you always get so lucky?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

Matt’s dazzling grin immediately dropped, and you could see his eyes widen behind the cherry tinted lenses. As his face paled and his lips parted in horror, his brows shot up above the frame of his glasses.

“Oh God, I didn’t-that wasn’t…I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not-you’re not-this isn’t…I meant the date. Not that I’m expecting anything-I wouldn’t-I just…meant I hope it goes well. I didn’t-Jesus fucking Christ.”

You were nearly in tears with laughter as Matt stumbled over his words. A part of you felt bad for laughing at the clarity of his humiliation, but it was so endearing knowing he was just as affected by his nerves as you were. This man that went out every night to take down dangerous criminals, and was arguably the most feared man in the city himself, was standing in front of your door stumbling over an apology about an unintended double entendre.

Reaching out to place your hand on his arm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze, momentarily distracted by the dense muscle you felt beneath the soft material of his shirt, before smiling at him in sympathy as you attempted to control your laughter.

“Matt, it’s okay. Really.”

He let out a deep exhale, his tongue darting out to wet his lips quickly as he let out a short and dry chuckle. Matt nodded his head in your direction, a faint curve of self-deprecation on his lips.

“Is this the worst first date you’ve ever been on?”

There was a teasing tone accompanying the timber of his voice, but layered beneath you could detect a chord of genuine curiosity intermingled with trepidation. The smile on your lips only grew as you looked up at him.

“Actually, it’s one of the best.”

Matt was completely in awe of you. There wasn’t a single falter in your heart’s rhythm. He felt his lips easily mirroring the smile that was on yours, reaching his hand out to lightly grasp your elbow as your hand was still comfortably placed on his bicep.

“What would I have to do to make it the best?”

“Hm. What’s for dinner?”

“Italian. That I know you like.”

A soft noise of content hummed from your throat, and the grin that bloomed on your lips triggered his own.

“Yeah, you’re definitely in my top three right now. But, the night is still young.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful invitation that flowed from your voice.

“Top three? I can work with that. I like a challenge.”

»»———　　———««

The restaurant Matt brought you to was a quaint, family owned spot just a few blocks away from your shared apartment building. It’s a place he had passed by on several instances, the aroma of fresh produce and homemade pasta sauce passed down through generations capturing the intrigue of his senses every time he crossed its path, but he had wanted to save it for a special occasion like a celebratory fifty year old bottle of champagne.

And tonight, he was popping the cork on it with you.

The space was incredibly cozy. Tea light candles flickered romantically on every table and cast an amber glow in the somewhat dim lightning. Collections of sepia and noir photos of large families and historic Italian architecture decorated the walls. The imported Sangiovese was rich in tannins and bold in flavor, caressing your tongue like bittersweet velvet. And the loud personality and thick accent of your waiter repeating your orders off in an alluring symphony of Italian made you feel like you and Matt had somehow been transported straight from Hell’s Kitchen to Italy just by passing through the door.

Both of your nerves seemed to evaporate into the breeze flowing through the open windows with every splash of burgundy against your lips and exchange of exquisite flavor from your dishes. Matt asked you questions with childlike excitement, eager to learn more about you, studying you with the exact same enthusiasm he showed important cases that were of the utmost importance to him.

In return, he found himself answering your own inquisitions easily without having to spare the devilish and more complicated details. It was so incredibly emancipating to not have to pretend with you. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t having to play a character. He could just be…Matt.

You approached every question with genuine curiosity and a respectful distance of where his invisible boundaries might be, and it made his heart soar that you were trying so hard to carefully craft his comfort. Matt had known that he was enthralled with you the first time he met you, but by the time dessert came, he was absolutely smitten.

He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he also didn’t want the night to end.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Hm, I don’t know. You sure it isn’t too out of your way?”

Even if Matt couldn’t feel the way your lips parted into a huge smile, he could hear it in the cadence of your voice. The subtle joke made him chuckle as he nodded his chin in your direction, his own mouth pulling into a charming smirk.

“I’d still offer even if you lived in Long Island.”

The sudden spill of heat across the tops of your cheeks and the quiet sharp intake of your breath had his heart pounding faster in his chest.

“I suddenly wish I did.”

Even though your tone was playful, he could detect the implications behind your words. You didn’t want this night to end either, and that had him soaring up to cloud nine. Feeling emboldened by your indirect confession, Matt reached his hand out slowly to brush his fingertips against the palm of your hand, easily threading his fingers through your own, reveling in the softness of your skin that he had missed. He felt a spark every time your pulse resonated against his own, and his cheeks nearly hurt from how much he was smiling.

“I prefer you living a floor below me.”

By the time the two of you reached your front door, Matt couldn’t tell if it was the electricity from the building buzzing in his ears or the anticipation that kept building the entire walk, growing larger and larger like a snowball ready to plow into his chest to cause an avalanche when you turned your body to face him. As your thumb lightly brushed against the back of his scarred knuckles, a question that had been bouncing around in his head all evening could no longer go unanswered.

“So, as far as first dates go, what’s the verdict? Did I move up at all?”

Matt splayed his most charming smile across his plump lips, and while the flirtation in his voice was evident, so was the unmistakable undertone of uncertainty. The blood rushing through his veins was roaring in his ears like tides crashing against the shore during a storm.

“I’d say you made it to the top two.”

Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, seemingly surprised by your answer, his brows raising above the browline of his glasses slightly.

“Second place?”

“Unless you’ve got a last minute testimony for me to rule in your favor, Counselor.”

Your voice remained soft and teasing, but your heart was fluttering violently in your chest, like the hummingbird was trying to escape its cage. Matt carefully let go of your hand, reaching up to pull his glasses away from his face, baring himself completely before you as he slipped the crimson lenses into his pocket. The slight gasp from seeing his eyes for the first time that caught in your throat caused a bashful smile to appear on his lips.

His tongue darted out to wet them quickly, catching a taste of the tiramisu you shared still lingering on your tongue. He wanted to devour it from your lips. Taking a bold step forward, he did his best to fix his gaze where he thought yours was, leaning in slightly until your noses were merely an inch apart, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips.

“May I?”

His voice seemed to have dropped an octave lower, coming out in an intimate whisper that you answered all too eagerly.

“Yes.”

Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly closed the sliver of distance between you, pressing his lips to yours with a satisfied groan, feeling a surge of pride at the way your breath caught in your throat. For a good thirty seconds, you actually stopped breathing. When he reluctantly broke the kiss, he brushed his lips against yours and whispered into them softly.

“Breathe.”

The second the command slipped off his tongue, you exhaled heavily before sucking in a sharp drag of oxygen, and Matt couldn’t stop the smug grin that overtook his entire mouth.

“Well, sweetheart? What’s the verdict now?”

“Yeah…yeah, yeah definitely in the number one spot.”

Matt beamed at the breathlessness of your voice, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest as he purred into your ear.

“Lucky me.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @danzer8705

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #daredevil #daredevil fic

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myscenic · 6 months

Text

Pairing: lee taeyong x 10th member!male!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers

Warnings: top!taeyong, swearing, blowjob, cum swallowing

Word Count: 1.2k+

Synopsis: a peaceful photoshoot day at the beautiful maldives island led to a confession and a spicy activity...

𓇼 Note: i felt really dirty writing this😭 you can tell that the opening kinda sucks. and honestly i'm not really good at writing smut, and this is my first one too!

the crystal-clear waters of maldives stretched out before the nct 127 members, a paradise of turquoise hues and white sandy beaches. their hearts brimming with excitement, the members had gathered in the tropical paradise for a highly anticipated magazine photoshoot.

the sunlit sky embraced their vibrant energies, as they embarked on a journey that promised to showcase not only their captivating charm but also the undeniable chemistry they shared as a group.

during the photoshoot, taeyong couldn't help but let his mind wander to the countless times he had fantasized about y/n's body during their practice sessions. the way his sweat-soaked clothes clung to his skin, accentuating every curve and enticing movement, had always been a tantalizing sight for taeyong.

he had often found himself stealing glances at y/n when the other members were too engrossed in perfecting their choreography. taeyong's eyes would trace the lines of y/n's body, from the way his hips swayed to the graceful arch of his back. it was as if y/n's movements held an irresistible magnetism that drew taeyong's gaze.

and now, in this stunning paradise, with the sand beneath their feet and the ocean breeze caressing their skin, taeyong's fantasies were on the verge of becoming a reality. he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through his veins as he gazed at y/n, his body radiating an aura that screamed sensuality.

as the photographer captured the essence of their chemistry on camera, taeyong's mind was filled with thoughts of how he would ravish y/n's body once they were alone. the mere thought of unveiling his bare skin, of tracing his fingers along the contours of y/n's figure, sent shivers of excitement down his spine.

with each click of the camera, taeyong's imagination ran wild, painting vivid images of their bodies entwined in a sinful dance of pleasure. the thought of hearing y/n's moans, of feeling y/n’s nails dig into his skin as he fuck y/n on the bed, was almost too much to bear.

but for now, taeyong had to contain his longing, to wait for the opportune moment when they could both give in to the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them. as the photoshoot continued, he couldn't help but to think about what they could do with each other later.

"okay, that's a wrap for this set," the photographer called out. "let's take a 15 minute break and then we'll move on to the next location.”

taeyong took this opportunity to approach you, his gaze intense.

"hey, i want to show you something," taeyong said, breaking the silence between them. he grabbed y/n’s hand and led him away from the set, towards a beautiful spot on the beach he found earlier.

"where are we going?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"you'll see," taeyong replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

as he arrived at the spot, y/n couldn't help but gasp at the beauty of it. the crystal-clear water lapped at the shore, and the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over everything.

"it's beautiful," y/n said, turning to taeyong with a smile.

"just like you," taeyong replied, his gaze intense.

before y/n could respond, taeyong closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to y/n’s in a passionate kiss. taeyong’s hands roamed around y/n’s body, squeezing and groping him as he deepened the kiss.

"t-taeyong," y/n moaned, his hands tangling in the taller’s hair.

taeyong pulled back, his lips trailing down to y/n's neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. he nipped and sucked at his collarbone, marking y/n as his own.

"i've wanted to do this for so long," taeyong whispered, his breath hot against y/n’s skin.

"then why haven't you?" the shorter asked, his voice trembling.

"i-i was too shy," taeyong admitted, "too shy to ask you out."

"but i don't care," y/n said, his hands reaching down to cup his bulge. "i want you, taeyong."

taeyong's breath hitched as he rubbed his dick through his swim trunks. he groaned, his hips thrusting forward.

"fuck, y/n," he moaned, his hands reaching down to grab y/n’s ass.

he pulled him closer, grinding his dick against his hips. y/n could feel the heat radiating off of him, and y/n knew he was ready for more.

"get on your knees, now," taeyong commanded, his voice low and needy.

y/n did as he was told, sinking to his knees in the sand. taeyong's cock was already hard, straining against the fabric of his swim trunks.

"suck it," taeyong said, his voice rough.

y/n reached up, pulling his trunks down and freeing his cock. it was thick and long, and he couldn't wait to wrap his lips around it.

y/n took him in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock. taeyong groaned, his hands reaching down to tangle in the lower’s hair.

"f-fuck, y/n, you're so good at this," he moaned, his hips thrusting forward.

y/n eagerly took more of taeyong's cock into his mouth, his lips stretching wide to accommodate him. he could feel the thick veins pulsing against his tongue, and the salty taste of pre-cum oozing from the tip. y/n moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers down taeyong's spine.

taeyong's grip on y/n's hair tightened, pulling him in deeper. y/n could feel his cock hitting the back of his throat, but he didn't resist, instead he relaxed and let taeyong take control.

taeyong's thrusts became more insistent, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as he fucked y/n's mouth. y/n could feel his own cock throbbing in time with taeyong's thrusts, precum dripping down his shaft.

taeyong's breathing became more labored, his moans growing louder. y/n could feel his cock swelling in his mouth, and knew he was close.

"i'm gonna cum," taeyong warned, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

y/n moaned in response, the vibrations sending taeyong over the edge. he came hard, his hot cum filling y/n's mouth. y/n swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him.

taeyong pulled out, panting heavily. y/n looked up at him, his lips swollen and red from the rough treatment. taeyong reached down and kissed him gently.

"you're mine now," taeyong whispered against y/n's lips. "mine forever.”

"break time's over," a voice called out, breaking the silence. "everyone gather and let’s move on for the final shoot."

y/n and taeyong quickly cleaned up, their bodies still tingling with love.

"i can't wait to do this again," taeyong whispered, his lips brushing against y/n’s ear.

the shorter smiled, heart racing with excitement.

"me neither," y/n replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

the final shoot went off without a hitch, and y/n couldn't help but steal glances at taeyong, his mind still reeling from what had happened.

as the day came to a close, y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for what was to come. he knew that this was only the beginning, and he couldn't wait to see where things would go with taeyong.

#kpop fanfic #kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #kpop x male reader smut #nct x male reader #nct 127 x male reader #lee taeyong x male reader #taeyong x male reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

Omg I am in love with your writing, I want to eat it-

A humble request for a Soap Drabble-

In the aftermath of a mission where Reader is kidnapped and tortured for information (the 141 saved them) Reader seems like her usual sunshine self, like she wasn’t just beaten within an inch of her life. Some accident happens while everyone is hanging out that triggers a flashback. Reader feels like she has to escape the base facility where she’s being held and the 141 chases reader, not knowing that it’s making it worse-

Basically a PTSD episode that leaves reader going all Rambo and Soap calms her down- lots of Hurt/Comfort and hugs :)

—Find Me

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞

The worst part is that you don’t even remember most of it. By whatever coping mechanism that you’d been cursed with, all you can bring forward is snippets. The doctors tell you it’s a blessing in disguise, of course—if you remembered how they had broken you over, and over, and over again, you would be…unrecognizable.

But not knowing and having this paranoia in the back of your skull was far worse than guessing where the new scars started and ended; how they got there in the first place.

It was like everything was one second away from falling apart again.

Sitting in the rec room on base, you may have managed to fool the therapists and pass through the medical evaluation, but you can’t, not for one minute, fool Johnny.

It started with a casual comment.

“We don’t have to be here, y’know?” The Scot had said. “Let’s just go someplace a bit quieter, aye, Dearie? It’s gettin’ late out.”

You had sent him a side-eye, your arms crossed. It had been wrong to ignore the pound of your heart like that—to ignore how your skin was sweaty and your voice shook as you spoke above the laughing of fellow soldiers.

But you had to keep the act up. Even with him.

“It’s nothing, Soap,” you ease. “We’re all here to have a good time. I’m fine.”

Those cobalt blues were tight, worried. Every part of his face was tight with concern as his feet shuffled, elbow moving back to the table behind the two of you.

“You’re not actin’ right, Little Lady,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he watches you closely. “There’s no shame in it—”

“Would you just quit it, Johnny,” you snap, looking over sharply. “God, I’m not gonna break apart like some weak bitch, okay?”

He’s quick to clarify, hand moving up in a display you would use for a feral animal. “I never meant it like that.”

Your head turns away, and you roll your eyes. Simon and Price watch closely from the corner of the room, their conversation from previous falling silent.

But you couldn’t have accounted for the way Gaz strolled past, or how the soldier was walking back over from the pool table, swinging his cue stick in some wide arch to mess around with his friends.

But you also couldn’t have accounted for the sudden flash you’d have to the breaking of bottles over your head—of glass being ripped out of your shredded flesh and thrown to the ground.

Your body seizes up as Gaz’s cup shatters, and your eyes all at once go far away.

Johnny’s shocked face had snapped to the scene in front of him, blinking quickly as he stood and was about to go get a broom.

“Best watch where you’re swingin’ that thing there, eh?” He says to the soldier who looks highly embarrassed, Gaz frowning down at the remnants.

“Oi!” Everyone’s eyes dart to Ghost’s outburst, but he’s not addressing anyone left in the room—the Lieutenant dashes out of the hallway, Price hot in his heels.

Johnny turns back and you’re gone.

Racing away, your blood is hot and rabid, taking corners with record speed; the pounding feet behind you don’t help, the shouts. Every moment you try to get your head under control the sounds make it worse.

You end up outside, lost in the trees as the branches slap your face and body—running with no destination, no thoughts. And you just keep going. Panting, your stomach is stuck in knots, and your aching legs shake until you fall over and heave into the grass; sobs breaking through. Your lungs can’t get air down.

You don’t know how long you were out there, you don’t know how long it took for Johnny to find you, but when he did you heard his quick call of your name—his desperate plea for you to breathe when he grappled for your shoulders.

Your eyes stare blankly at him, gone to all else but your ringing ears.

Hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s me, Bonnie,” he rubs along your flesh, petting your skin with his thumb. You’ve never seen his eyes so afraid before. “Hey now, hey. Come back to me, we’re both right here—just focus on me. You’re back home, then, aye? Back with me on Base. There’s nothin’ that’s going to happen to you long as I’m here. I made that promise, yeah? I intend to keep it.”

His voice is grounding for you—for your failing body as your addled mind tries to calm down.

Johnny.

You pull on that shred of remembrance of when he’d found you, beaten within an inch of your life. His tiny pupils, stuck in a sea of deep blue. His callouses holding you to him as he raggedly breathed into your hair, screaming for med-evac.

“That’s it, Dearie,” right here, right now, you sag forward. Widened eyes quiver as your lower face is pressed into his shoulder, Johnny’s hand hard on the back of your head. “That’s it—it’s just Johnny.” The man is shaking just like you are, even when your wheezed sobs make his chest tighten painfully. How your hands weakly grasp at his shirt in desperation; clawing for purchase.

“It’ll always just be me.” Soap breathes, swallowing the saliva in his throat. “I’m gonna get you all the help you need….you bet on it. You’re going to be better, and I’m going to be with you through all of it.”

The side of his face nuzzles into yours as you breathe in his scent, choking on the air but slowly starting to get it down.

“No one fights alone.”

“Johnny,” you gasp.

“Shush, now,” he whispers, wrenching his eyes shut. “I’m here. Breathe. I’m here.”

“It hurts.” Your tears soak through his shirt, and his arms hold you tighter until he reminds himself to be gentle.

All he can do is try to hold back his own tears, his throat raw from his mad dash after you—he’d never run that fast in his life besides the moment he’d found you alive.

“I know,” his voice cracks, rocking you back and forth like a child. “I know, m’sorry, Dearie. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t let go,” you plead. “Please don’t let go.”

“Never,” he growls. “Never in my life.” He says it with every ounce of goodness left in him.

“I’m never lettin’ you go ever again, aye? They’ll have to pry me off you.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

The Quiet Ones 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: like Staind said in that one song, it's been a while.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd brings you down the flight of stairs, his arm through yours as you teeter in the heels. You’ve never been one for anything besides flats or sneakers. You’re getting acquainted to the painful arch of your feet and it’s doing little for your agitation.

While this man might be entirely too direct at times, he can be just as vague. You still have no idea why you’re dressed like some dainty rose. Whatever delusion he’s living in, it’s not the fairytale he believes it is.

Savoury aromas waft in the air and draw your nose towards the kitchen. You glance at Lloyd curiously. He puts his hand over yours and winks. You quickly turn your head straight.

“Don’t worry, jelly bean, I got everything sorted. Can’t have you sweating up a storm in the kitchen. Private chef,” he clicks his tongue, “besides, our guests won’t settle for anything less.”

You arch a brow but don’t ask. As much as you want to know who he’s expecting, you dread finding out. You highly doubt it’s good company.

He takes you into the living room. A large chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, the long crystals casting marbled pale light around the space. The tall windows peer out onto the green lawn, dim in the rising evening hue. The ornaments are just as sleek and precise as every other room. Polished marble and spotless porcelain.

As you take in the curved couch and round ottoman, Lloyd shifts your hand from the crook of his arm and tugs you to face him. He raises your knuckles high and kisses them. You blanch and resist the urge to pull away. His mustache tickles your skin.

“Baby, you look spectacular,” he purrs, “did I mention that dress hugs your ass in all the right ways.”

You bite down and nearly snatch your arm away. No. Don’t rile him. Tolerance will keep you safe.

“You didn’t,” you murmur as he clings to your hand and places it against the chest of his jacket. He wraps you up in his arms as if he means to dance with you.

“Well, shit, it really does,” his hands crawl down your sides and he scoops your ass up in his large hands, forcing a squeak from you as you press against his chest. “How about an extra dessert tonight?” He winks. “I bet it’s sweet, huh?”

He leans in, nuzzling your forehead as he growls. You shudder, but he might mistake it for excitement. His nose brushes yours but his lips stop short of yours as a chime interrupts him. He freezes and reluctantly draws away.

“Wait here,” he smirks and flutters his fingers longingly as he struts away.

You blow out through your lips and swivel to glance around. It’s a nice place but you miss your apartment. You miss being alone. You miss when you didn’t know this man.

You mash your hands together and wring them. You hear voices. A man and a woman. Great. This is really strange. You don’t understand what exactly he’s up to. Is he not afraid you’ll start begging for help? Somehow you don’t think that would do you much good.

“She’s in here,” Lloyd’s voice carries through ahead of him, “mom, dad, my lady,” he waves towards you.

You stand frozen to the floor. Uh. Mom? Dad? Oh gosh, it’s a family dinner. You blink and slowly step forward as Lloyd waves you closer.

“My mother, Delores, and father, Lawrence,” he introduces the two other figures.

The woman is tall and blond and statuesque. You feel even smaller in her presence. She looks down her long nose, her irises blue as ice, and her lips a soft shade of rose. Her hair is so icy, you can’t tell if it’s blonde or silver.

The man is as tall as Lloyd, a little broader, and wears a cerulean jacket over black. His hair is streaked with the same sandy shade as his son, mingled with shocks of white. He tilts his head as he measures you, his eyes narrowing.

“Hm,” that’s all you get. You feel much the same.

“We’ve come all this way, tell me supper is ready,” the woman, Delores, tuts. “Crab cakes, right, honey?”

She looks at her son and he frowns. His mustache makes the expression even more theatrical. You hate to disappoint but what did he expect? I mean, look at you.

“And I appreciate you coming,” Lloyd says, sounding unlike you’ve ever heard him in your short acquaintance. Something about it is disingenuous, for as honest as that man can be. “We’re super excited to have you.”

“Have you had those windows looked at?” The man stops to scope the ceiling to floor panes, “impractical things.”

Lloyd’s shoulders square. You can’t see his face but you’re certain he’s not happy. You don’t see anything wrong with the place. It’s a bit over the top, too sleek, too shiny, but it’s not horrid. Most people can’t afford anything like it. People like you in your boxy apartment.

“This way,” Lloyd says and waves them towards another doorway.

He takes them across the entryway and you follow behind. The dining room has high ceilings and an overly long table. You can’t imagine anyone would ever need that many seats.

Lawrence sneers with disapproval as Lloyd pulls out a chair for his mother. Delores primps herself as she sits, popping a compact out of her purse to touch up her lipstick. You stare from the doorway, drawn forward as your host clears his throat and eases another chair away from the table.

You near and sit. His parents have even you on eggshells. You can tell they won’t be much help to you. You’ve got more than enough with their son.

“I’ll just go check on dinner and you can get to know each other,” Lloyd declares as he claps his hands.

You wince as his mother snaps the mirror shut and puts it away. She looks you up and down as you keep a dull stare. His father examines the butter knife as if searching for any speck of filth.

“So, dear,” Delores begins. “Aren’t you a quaint one?”

You scrunch your nose up. Quaint? You’re not a house.

“Quiet, aren’t you?” She chuckles, “well, what do you do then? How’d he find you?”

“Probably one of those websites again,” Lawrence grumbles and curls his lips. “Women these days, they’ll jump at a dollar sign.”

You shake your head and tilt it. You’re not a mean person. You wouldn’t consider yourself malicious at all but he annoys you. And her. Their judgement reminds you of your schoolyard bullies.

“I do data entry,” you answer, ignoring the snipe. “We met... uh...” you frown and look at the table.

We met when your son stalked me and starved me out of my apartment. Yeah, you don’t think that’s going to get more than another condescending trill from her and indifferent grunt from him. You pick at your nail, the movement catching her eye, and you pull your hands apart and hide them behind the table.

“We met...”

“At the cafe,” Lloyd strides in and approaches the chair next to you, standing behind it, “supper will be out shortly.” He sits and grabs your hand, bringing it onto the tabletop, “you know, I saw her from across the coffee shop. Just waiting. I was just taken by her. Her effortless beauty--”

“Effortless indeed,” Delores comments.

You flick your lashes and glance over at your abductor. How is he preferable in this moment? You blink and turn your dull gaze ahead, staring through the blonde. You don't do well with confrontation, you're more the type for avoidance.

Lloyd quiets and brings his other hand up, chewing his fingertips before ripping them away from his mouth. He keeps his grip on you with his other and sighs. He looks up and shrugs.

The silence doesn’t last long as several bodies enter and lay out plates in front of each seat. A man in a black jacket and chef’s cap emerges and announces the appetizer; crab cakes with black truffle crostini. You stare at the food. It doesn’t look very tasty; it’s too curated.

“Mm, crab,” Delores sings as she picks up her cutlery, “how delightful.”

“Yes, see, I remembered,” Lloyd utters.

“All this flash,” Lawrence clucks as he lifts his fork, “you know, there’s more too life than show. Your fancy car, the house, your women...”

“Dad,” Lloyd goes rigid, “she’s not just another woman. I wouldn’t bring you here if--”

“Oh, no? The last one, I recall, was wearing a bright red thong. How do you think I know that?” The older man snips.

“She’s not like that,” Lloyd rebuffs. “I told you, she’s different. She’s the one.”

“Well, she definitely doesn’t talk as much as the last one,” Delores remarks tritely. “And Lawr,” she nudges her husband with her elbow, “she does have a certain allure. She definitely is... different.”

Your brows nearly meet in the middle. You close your eyes to hide the roll. You exhale through your nose. You don’t care about these people. You don’t even want to be here. So, why try?

That's it. Don't try. You don't need to impress any of them. You're not going to dance for them like they want you to. They aren't your parents and your own parents don't earn enough of your concern. You don't care about them and you definitely don't care about the man beside you.

Defence is the best offence, right? You're not going for an outright attack, that won't work. It's about repulsion.

You wiggle free of Lloyd’s grasp and surpass the cutlery to pick up the crostini with your fingers. You shove the whole cracker in your mouth and chew without caution. You hum and nod as you swallow it down. Maybe if you can disgust his parents enough, they’ll make him get rid of you. It’s not much of plan but more than you had before.

“Oh my,” Delores hovers her cutlery over the crab cake and gapes at you.

“Mm, oh my, good,” you speak through a full mouth.

“Uh, right, mom,” Lloyd raises his voice, “did you try the wine?”

“The wine,” you say through another mouthful, “mmm.”

You slurp messily. Your heart is racing and your skin is tingly. You don’t talk in front of strangers often. Always mindful of every single action. You never want to draw attention. Never step out of line but now, you’re toeing every one. It’s embarrassing.

“Lloyd,” Delores breathes.

“Honey,” Lloyd touches your shoulder, “let’s slow down.”

“I’m starving,” you argue and nearly choke, coughing into your hand.

“We still have several courses,” he lowers his voice, “please, jelly bean, don’t do that.”

“Do we have any more of this stuff,” you hold up the second crostini.

“Please,” he begs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing.

You smile, food in your teeth, and show it to the table. You’re going to barf, not just from the soft cheese but your humiliation. Hold it together, just a little longer.

“She definitely is... something,” Lawrence says and sends his wife a look of disgust.

You clear your plate as quickly as you can. The food is like rocks in your stomach. You’re not used to eating that much, not to mention, that sort of fare. It’s rich to the point of too much.

You wiggle your nail between your teeth and pick at them until Lloyd grabs your hand. You flutter your lashes in his direction. You really think you might throw up. Not only because of the fishy taste in your mouth.

Before you can think of your next move, the plates are cleared away and replaced with the next course. An entree of filet mignon and seasonal vegetables, as announced by the chef. You imagine it’s similar to what they serve in those fine restaurants you could never afford.

“Fine cut,” Lawrence offers as he turns over the steak with his knife and fork.

You saw through your own and look at the middle, “ew, is it supposed to be this colour?”

The table is quiet as you poke at the steak with your knife. You push it to the edge of the plate and make a face. You poke at the roasted potatoes instead.

“Rare,” Lawrence sniffs, “I’ll take the chef’s name.”

“Can he make cheeseburgers?” You ask.

“Jelly bean,” Lloyd hisses, “what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and look at your plate and huff, “fine.”

Like a bratty kid you pout. You pick up the steak with your hand and gnaw on it, making it into an effort. Lloyd reaches over and takes it from you, putting it back on your plate.

“Stop, please,” he begs.

You shrug and wipe your hands on your dress. He latches onto your hand, gripping it tight until your joints hurt. You wince as he stands, still clinging to you.

“I was meaning to wait until dessert but... she’s had a long day. She’s not feeling herself,” he reaches into his jacket with his other hand and turns. He looks down at you and clears his throat, lowering himself to his knee. His blue eyes meet your grimace. Oh, god. “Jelly bean, sweetheart,” he pulls out the velvet box and your stomach lurches, “will you--”

You bend over your lap as you lose all control. You spew onto the floor, the sick splashing onto your feet and Lloyd’s pants. You cup your mouth as you puff, bile staining your tongue. You groan and stay folded over your knees.

“Oh, Lloyd, you can’t mean to marry that?” Delores sneers.

“Truly, son, you brought us here for... her? Really?”

Lloyd looks at you and his forehead lines. He shakes his head and opens the ring box, picking the ring from the cushion, and grabs your hand. He shoves the row of large diamonds onto your finger. You stare at the sparkle in horror as you slowly sit up and he stands.

“We are getting married,” he insists, “and I didn’t bring you here for your blessing. I only brought you to let you know.”

“Married?” You and Delores echo in fraught unison.

“Yes!” Lloyd stomps his foot, nearly stepping in the puke. “You can’t stop me, she can’t stop me,” he jabs his finger in the air, “no one can stop me!”

“Settle down, boy,” Lawrence says.

“Come on, baby,” Lloyd snatches your wrist and pulls you to your feet, “let me get you cleaned up.” He winks and wiggles his tongue out at you and his parents groan. He curls his arm around you and lowers his voice to a whisper, "I got something else for you to choke on."

Well, that didn’t work.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the quiet ones #series #the gray man

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wynnyfryd · 7 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 52

part 1 | part 51 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobia, canon-typical violence, blood

"I'm just saying!" Eddie laughs as he swings himself around the slender base of a young tree, cigarette dangling from his lips. "I could absolutely rock the blue eyeshadow look the main chick was wearing."

Steve doesn't disagree. They're in a dark alcove on the side of the movie theater, Eddie's hair all lit up from behind, a frizzy halo of pinks and blues from the neon radiating off the front of the building, and he looks fucking gorgeous, and he smells like menthol and strawberry shake, and he's been tapping Steve's wrist so much tonight that he might as well be drumming up a new song just for them.

"Can't argue with that," Steve murmurs as he steps up onto the concrete planter. Gets up in Eddie's space; borrows his cigarette, his words floating out on a thin wisp of smoke. "You look beautiful."

"Beautiful," Eddie mimics, tasting the word, looking unbelievably pleased with the flavor that he finds. His eyes go hooded, and there's a sly tilt to his mouth as his tongue slips out to tease the edge. "You tryin' to start somethin', Harrington?"

Steve's answering hum rumbles deep in his chest. His cock aches in his jeans. God, he wants him; wants to back him up a good ten feet until his body scrapes the bricks. Wants to rough him up a little, like Eddie did to him the first time they kissed — make his breath hitch and his skin buzz and his back arch under his touch.

"Oh, you are," Eddie purrs. He takes the cigarette back, their fingers brushing on the exchange, and they're standing so close now, nothing but this skinny tree between them, just a twig of a thing, really, the toes of their shoes touching on either side of the base.

Steve looks down at the snowy soil. Taps Eddie's wrist. Desperately. Frantically. Take me home right now, so help me—

A low whoop echoes off the pavement.

A predatory jeer, and Steve looks up to see three men approaching — three boys, about their age, and drunk, by the looks of it. He grits his teeth.

Their ringleader looks like a caricature; classic bad boy who thinks too highly of himself, some cheap knock-off mash up of Billy Hargrove and Rob Lowe. Steve eyes the shaggy mullet, the dangly earring skimming the lapel of his black jacket, the silver flask and the stupid swagger, and his blood runs hot. Thrums with the promise of a fight.

“Well shit, boys,” the guy grins to his sidekicks, taking a long swig and wiping his mouth. Gleeful malice in green eyes. Little asshole gets close enough for Steve to make out the color; gets right up in Steve’s face and sneers, “Looks like we got ourselves a couple of queers to smear.”

Really? Steve thinks. We’re doing playground games right now? He folds his arms over his chest, flattens his voice; disinterested. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

Eddie smokes his cigarette, and the smoke curls around them in short, unsteady puffs.

The guy snarls, “Do you?”

Beside him, his friend’s hands ball up in fists. A vicious voice in Steve’s head whispers: plant your fucking feet.

“Nah,” Steve answers. He takes a step in front of Eddie; widens his stance, digs his heels into the mulch. Slight crouch; deep breath. “Think I’m right where I need to be.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” the guy spits at the ground. He sways and pivots just a little, like maybe he’s about to slither back off to wherever he came from. Or maybe he’s about to throw his full weight into a swing.

Eddie’s breath whistles. His nose still healing from the break. “Seriously, man,” he tries as he drops the cigarette, crushing the butt under his boot. His voice is thin; hands up; don’t shoot. “Just- just fuck off, alright? We don’t want any—”

The first punch is slow. Sloppy. Steve sees it coming and dips low to dodge, and the jab cracks against the tree, spraying ice and splintered bark, the sound sharp in his good ear. It’s a plate over his head; it’s Billy cackling while the world dims, and Steve sees fucking red. Tastes metal and acid and rot, and all his ghosts are with him; all of Eddie’s, too. Hargrove, and Andy, and Jason fucking Carver; all the faceless specters of whoever pummeled him that night at the bar, whoever dared to lay a finger on him when Steve wasn’t there to be a shield.

But he’s here now, and his answering punch lands hard — sickening crunch as his uppercut connects with the kid’s ribs, knocks the wind out of him. The guy grunts and doubles over, but he gets in a good swing on the way down.

Steve tastes blood at the edge of his lip.

Someone grabs him by the collar.

One of the guy’s friends, freezing fingers pawing at his shoulder, at his throat, and he pulls back hard until his shirt rips at the neckline and frees him from the hold. Ducks again to dodge a blow, swivels and pops discount Rob Lowe right under the chin.

The kid’s teeth clack together as he bites his own tongue. Steve watches his head fly back like it’s about to fall off — like a ragdoll, like a bobblehead, like it’s happening in slow motion. He collapses on the sidewalk and cracks his head against the bricks, and he's down, he's out, but there’s two more still coming, one in front and one on Steve's right, and that one looks tall and broad enough to do some real damage.

Steve squares his shoulders; braces himself for another concussion, because this is— fuck, is the guy on the ground bleeding?

This is bad.

This is really bad.

And then he hears it.

A familiar thwick, a metallic slice through the sudden stillness in the air as Eddie pulls his knife out of his boot and flicks it open.

"Back the fuck off!" he growls; lunges forward with the blade and stabs at empty air, the metal gleaming like an oath. His expression is wild, sweat on his lip and at his temples, bangs sticking to his brow.

Steve spits blood onto the concrete.

Everyone backs the fuck off.

—

"Holy shit," Eddie pants as they haul ass out of the lot. Fingers trembling on the steering wheel, knee jiggling so badly it jangles all his pins and chains. His whole body is shaking. The radio is off.

In the rearview, Steve gets a glimpse of their attackers dragging their limp friend by the armpits through a snowy flowerbed. He thinks he sees a streak of blood.

“Did you know them?” he asks, his eyes glued to the reflection.

Eddie rolls the next three stop signs.

“No,” he finally says. Swallows hard in the simmering quiet. “They were just some guys.”

—

part 53

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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little-diable · 5 months

Text

Because the rain keeps falling – Tommy Shelby (smut)

This story is very dear to me, I don't know why, but it feels awfully personal. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: It's April 23rd, time for (y/n)'s yearly visit. But this year it'll be the last visit, giving the two of them one last chance to search the love they foster for one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, melancholic vibe, I don’t want to give too much away lol

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.6k words)

He had his eyes focused on his documents, rereading the typed lines for the fifth time that night. Tommy’s head was hurting, pounding as if he had forced two bottles of liquor down his system only hours ago. Not even the smell of his cigarettes managed to distract him from the uneasiness clinging to him.

A sigh clawed through Tommy as he placed his glasses down to let his head roll back. His eyes fluttered close, inhaling and exhaling a few deep breaths like he had been taught years ago, swallowed by darkness whenever he had to move beneath the ground.

“Evening, Tommy.” His eyes shot open, body thrown into a fight or flight reaction as the unfamiliar voice wrapped itself around him. A voice so unfamiliar, it instantly snapped into place as his eyes found her piercing ones. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her chest, lips pulled into the breathtaking smile he hadn’t seen in exactly twelve months.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you, how impolite of me to just barge in.” Her dark boots met the ground, covered in mud and soil. Slowly she moved towards Tommy, only to plop down in the chair placed in front of his desk. “Can I?”

“Of course, here.” He reached a cigarette out for (y/n) to take, rising to his feet to light it for her. His bright eyes didn’t stray from hers once, watching her every move to try and figure out what her next words would sound like.

“It’s April the 23rd.” (Y/n)’s words left a pregnant pause, seconds Tommy used to study her, the dirty fingers that were covered in the same soil as her boots, the holes in her trousers that exposed parts of her legs, and the knitted sweater she had worn the last time he had seen her. And yet she was as breathtakingly beautiful as she always had been.

“I must have forgotten. I’m sorry, how foolish of me, eh?” A laugh rumbled through Tommy, a sound that managed to grow her smile, paired with a soft shake of her head. Smoke kept leaving her nostrils, wrapping (y/n) in a blue cloud that only made her eyes appear more dangerous, adding that twinkle he’d see late at night when his thoughts start to wander.

“Forgotten? I highly doubt that, Mister Shelby.” (Y/n) stubbed out her cigarette before she rose to her feet, rounding his desk to plop down on the expensive wood. She cupped his cheek with her fingers, letting him inhale her scent, the mixture of rain, soil, and incense. His eyes fluttered close as she stroked his lips with her thumb, smiling down at the man who seemed to instantly relax at her touch.

“This is the last time we can do this, Tommy. He is focused on me lately, I can’t risk anything, for both our sakes.” His low hum left her chuckling, a sound that turned into a laugh as Tommy pulled her into his lap without a warning, lips finding (y/n)'s before a reply could claw its way through Tommy.

Their lips moved in sync, hands finding one another’s body to search the closeness both had been aching for since her last visit. Her cold fingers undid the buttons of his vest, desperate to expose his body to her wandering eyes, a sight she had longed for. Tommy was just as impatient, momentarily breaking from the kiss to tug her sweater over her head.

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ll ever be fortunate enough to marvel at.” He mumbled the words against her lips, letting his hands move up her naked upper body, cupping her breasts. (Y/n) arched herself into his touch, while grinding her core against his hardening cock, desperate to feel him beneath her.

“You were always good with words, weren’t you?” Her teasing words were stuck in her throat as Tommy rose to his feet, holding onto (y/n) before plopping her down on his desk. Tommy towered over her as if he was the one guiding her every movement, the guiding hand she’d reach for in the depth of the night, the last Hallelujah rolling off her tongue.

“If tonight is all I have left of you, I want to taste you, remember you for as long as I’ll get the chance to.” He pulled her torn trousers down her legs, letting his warm mouth find her aching cunt without another spoken word leaving him. (Y/n) choked on his name, letting her dirty fingers tug on his hair as Tommy brushed his tongue through her slit.

“Fuck, I almost forgot how good you’re at this.” Breathy chuckles left her as Tommy ate her out, pushing her closer towards the edge within seconds. Two of his fingers were pushed into her tightness, spreading her walls as his tongue kept brushing against her pulsing bundle, high on her taste. (Y/n) was everything his body was aching for, longing for her the second she left his side, promising to return the next year, and the following, all up until this very day.

“I need you inside of me, fuck me, please.” Their eyes met, his full of love and lust, hers full of longing and sadness. Slowly, Tommy pulled away, only to free his twitching cock from his dark suit trousers. He reached for her throat to tug her closer, lips finding hers again while he pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her wrapped around him.

For a moment, neither of them dared to move, clinging to one another like lost ships sailing through uneasy waters, knowing they could only trust one another. Tommy held her as if she was the treasure keeping his heart safe, locked away from all the pain he had to face; and (y/n) held him as if he was the soul she had been searching for all this time.

Only slowly did he begin to move, fucking her on the table like a lover would fuck his significant other beneath a starry sky, fuelled by unspoken promises. Their bodies searched one another’s closeness, letting her walls flutter around his cock, wordlessly begging him to add more speed to his thrusts.

Even though both wanted to drag out this moment, knowing that it was the last time they could hold on like this, their bodies were desperate for their highs. Soon enough, they would cum in unison, letting go of one another’s name like a prayer spoken in a moment of need and loss. A moment of loss they’d soon enough live through, letting their hands drop as their eyes met for the last time.

“It’s an old story, a story I never believed in. But now I do,” her whispers rang in his ears as he pressed his lips to her throat, sucking on her cold skin to try and leave his mark on her body. “I love you, Tommy Shelby.”

His eyes met hers, momentarily allowing his pace to falter to wipe away the one single tear managing to leave her sad eyes. He kissed her to distract her from her pain, a distraction she needed to give in, to choke on his name as her high wrecked through her. Tommy kept fucking (y/n), searching his own release with his lips still pressed against hers.

Their bodies stayed connected as he came, imprinting himself on her walls as if this could change the outcome of this very situation. It was a foolish thought, a thought both clung to as he pulled away, careful not to hurt her.

No words were spoken as they redressed, not daring to let their gazes meet while doing so. Only as Tommy sat down in his chair, reaching for another cigarette to let a few deep exhales pass his lips, did they dare to lift their eyes. She cupped his cheek with sorrow swimming in her pupils.

“What will happen? Will you come and pick me up?” It was nothing but a whisper, and yet his words sounded like screams to her, burning through her body. (Y/n) matched the deep exhales leaving him, leaning back against his desk to properly study him. He had aged since the first time they had met, deep beneath the ground, and yet he looked even more handsome than all those years ago.

“I will. Can you promise me not to make it any harder on us?” (Y/n) took his cigarette from his lips to take a drag herself, staring down at Tommy as he nodded his head. It had been their deal for years, adding another year to the list while he promised that when the day would come, he wouldn’t fight it. “Good. There is only so much parting from you I can endure, all I ask of you is to make this last voyage bearable for us both.”

“Dying with you by my side will be an honour, (y/n).” With one last kiss pressed to his lips, (y/n) left his office. Her dirty fingers reached into her pocket, pulling out the old, leather-bound booklet to cross out Tommy’s name like she had done for the past years, only to add it to another page. Another year she granted him to live, one last year to be on this earth before she’d guide him towards the cemetery, to dig out his grave with her hands buried in soil, and her boots stuck in the muddy ground.

Because the rain keeps falling whenever she guides another soul away from this world.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders

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whiskersz · 7 months

Note

Hellooo👋

Saw that your requests are open and would you write a head canon about gn or fem exorcist reader where they're already in a relationship with adam and they are training together. So mainly fluff I think but I wouldn't mind some suggestive content thrown in there

Tyyy

Hello dear reader and thanks a bunch for requesting Adam! I think I'm getting better at writing him. Emphasis on Think. Anyways, enjoy the First Man being kiiind of a simp ^_^

Decided to go with fem! reader btw for a badass woman trope.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Adam x Fem! Exorcist! Reader HCs + Scenario

Warning for : slightly suggestive near the end.

✦There are times where Adam loathes training Exorcists, and times where he loves it, it highly depends on which side of the bed he wakes up in; either way, him and Lute admittedly do a pretty good job at it, turning even the meekest of Angels into bloodthirsty killing machines who wait for nothing but Extermination day.

✦You’re one of these killing machines, and he couldn’t be prouder to have a girlfriend who’s not only strong and – in his words – a badass, but who also shares his exact morals; you’ve been a part of this army of Exorcists for quite some time now, and both Adam and Lute respect you for both your physical strength and tough personality.

✦You’re obviously Adam’s favorite Exorcist to train; even though you don’t need much training anymore, he still makes sure to check up on you between a scolding and the other while dealing with the newbies. Maybe your shoulders are sore, or maybe your wings need a quick massage...you never know what excuse he’s going to come up with next to come see you, but it’s usually something about a part of your body being in pain, even though pain itself is a rare concept in Heaven.

✦Lute scolds him, for sure, every time that this happens; “Stop making shit up to see your girlfriend, Adam, we have a job to do!” or other sentences along those lines are often hissed towards him, as she drags him away from you.

✦When he does get to train with you though, don’t expect him to go easy on you; he might be your boyfriend, but he knows damn well that after all these years you can take a hit. Strumming his guitar like he’s on the stage and you’re nothing more than one of his admirers, he will direct a full-force attack at you that you will dodge every time before counter-attacking with your own Angelic weapon.

Adam gives one strong flap of his golden wings, moving out of the way just before you can hit him with your Angelic Spear. He turns around just in time to dodge your next attack, a kick directed at the back of his head; he would wonder how you managed to reach him in such a short time, if only he didn’t know how much strength your wings hold.

“Woah, easy babe! You’ve got privileges alright, being my girlfriend and all, but don’t think you can break my fucking face!” his voice is boisterous, though the tone it holds is playful.

You huff, wiping away a drop of sweat from your forehead. His comment indicates that the training session is over, so both of you slowly flutter your way back to the ground, your feet gently grazing the soft grass of the secluded field you often head to to train.

Noticing a fairly large tree nearby, you and your boyfriend walk towards it for a quick break, sitting down once the shadow of it casts above the two of you.

Adam’s hand slithers around your back, and soon enough he’s kneading the sensitive spot where your wings connect to it. You let a sigh escape your mouth, trying to filter out the quite annoying yells of the Exorcists training in the distance.

With a sly smirk, he runs his thumb down your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure. Blood flows to your cheeks and you swiftly push his hand away, causing him to burst out laughing. You playfully kick his ankle, which he moves to hold in fake agony;

“Save that one for the bedroom, will you?” you say, picking up your spear to go back to training.

“Boooring, go back to kicking those noobs’ asses instead of having some fun with your boyfriend, I guess.”

He’s in a cheeky mood today, you guess. And you also guess that he’s going to follow you in about five seconds, which he predictably does.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #adam x reader #adam headcanons #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam hazbin #gender neutral reader

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xo-cori · 1 year

Text

because second’s not the same

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: morals become blurred in a motel room with your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend.

warnings: smut (MDNI), comphet on reader’s end, internalized homophobia, lots of angst, cheating, sorry owen you seem cool, submissive top!abby ftw, hair pulling, fingersucking, facesitting, abby makes reader answer a call while getting down n dirty, they both hate men (real)

a/n: my first fic on this godforsaken app, hopefully it’s okay! this is based off of an old halsey song called “is there somewhere,” i highly recommend listening while you read

When your phone chimes twice at exactly ten o’clock on a Friday night, your heartbeat quickens and the air is stolen from your lungs. Your body seems to know who it is before you do. Maybe that should concern you or serve as a reminder of how much of a problem this is becoming, but instead, you unlock your phone and read the much anticipated message.

abby: Hey

abby: What are you up to tonight??

you: hey, i was just reading a bit before bed

abby: Sounds like a real party

you: shut up lol

you: why do you ask?

abby: Don’t make me say it

you: i’m making you say it

There’s a hesitance on Abby’s side, made obvious by how the text bubble appears and disappears as she types and deletes a response. It takes her a good minute to send another message.

abby: Just wanted to know if you’d meet me

abby: Please

you: there we go. be there in 20

Before you know it, you’re driving fifteen miles over the speed limit, chest tight and craving a release that only Abby can bring. You eventually step out of your car and into the near-empty parking lot of the old motel that you’ve become awfully familiar with these past few weeks.

Your feet guide you along the farthest side of the building, straight towards a room marked ‘93,’ and you invite yourself in.

In less than five minutes, your shirts are on the floor and her hands are on your hips and god, her thigh feels so good between yours. She always seems to know exactly what you need. More importantly, she wastes no time with giving it to you.

“Fuck,” Abby says, “been waiting for this all week.”

You nod in agreement, lost in the way she grinds you onto her with seemingly no effort. She sighs contentedly when your back arches, chest pressing into hers, enveloping her in your warmth and melting away all the stress of a long day. There’s a piece of heaven in this room with her. How could she worry about anything outside of it?

“Me too,” you reply. One of your hands grasps at her shoulder in attempt to steady yourself, caressing the tense muscle, while the other gently tugs her hair. The dirty blonde strands feel like silk between your fingers and you can smell the pine shampoo that she uses. It invades all of your senses. It makes you desperate for more. So, you tug harder. Her head falls back against the headboard with a groan and you use it as an opening, diving in to press your lips to her neck.

It’s messy, just how Abby likes it. Her grip on you tightens and she lets out a broken gasp.

She needs this just as much as you do, if not more– but you’re much more generous with the teasing.

“Feel good?” You mumble into her throat, before picking another patch of skin to suckle on. Every touch sends a bolt of electricity up her spine and decorates her freckled skin with goosebumps.

Still, Abby does what she does best, and clings to any power she still has. You don’t resist when she grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you back onto the bed. In fact, you only spread your legs wider so she can situate herself between them. Then, without wasting another moment, her lips come crashing down onto yours.

It’s always your favorite part of the night; when she kisses you so passionately that you can almost fool yourself into thinking it means something.

This isn’t supposed to mean anything, though.

You assure yourself that the sparks you feel are all make-believe, silently wrestling with the fact that you’ve never once felt this with Owen. Not even close.

Her tongue quickly finds yours in a heated battle for dominance that she’s already lost. There’s no telling just how long this goes on for– you’re so focused on the feeling of her large hands running up and down your body, soothing all the shame you feel about this arrangement as you caress her cheek with your thumb.

It’s a loving gesture. Too loving, Abby thinks. She shouldn’t enjoy it so much, but she does.

When she pulls away, your half-lidded eyes land on the redness on her face, her swollen lips, her hair that’s all messy from your wandering fingers. The dim light from the bedside lamp casts a glow to one side of her face, and a shadow on the other. The thumb that was once on her cheek starts moving toward her mouth, until it pushes past her waiting lips and she accepts it with a pleased hum.

You watch her intently as you press down on the center of her tongue. Her brows furrow up and she lets out a whine.

After a few more moments, you pull your thumb from Abby’s mouth and smear her own saliva across her lips. She opens her eyes to look down at you, finally, and you offer a warm smile. “You just take it.” You observe aloud. “Whatever I want, you just let it happen.”

It’s a stark difference from your relationship with Owen. There’s never any concern for what you want; though, to be honest, you wouldn’t be in a relationship with him if you could get actually get what you want. It’d be Abby’s apartment you go to every weekend. There’d be no motel and no deleted messages and no acting like mere acquaintances when Owen gets all of his friends together, including her and you.

If you could get what you wanted, you don’t think you’d ever want anything else ever again.

“Yeah.” She agrees, slightly muffled until you fully pull your hand away. “Whatever you want.”

Part of you feels bad. You have this woman wrapped around your finger, and you have to act like it’s nothing more than a convenience.

In reality, it’s everything to you.

So, the other part of you plans to take whatever you can from her.

“You really mean that?” You ask.

“Would I lie to you?” She asks in return.

You pat her cheek. “Lay down, then.”

Without another word, Abby does as she’s told. The two of you switch positions and she watches you peel off the rest of your clothes, while she lays in a grey sports bra and a pair of boxers.

She starts to feel excited when she thinks you’ll move down further like usual, your face nestled between her legs until you’re pulling orgasm from orgasm out of her.

Her heart nearly stops, though, when she sees you pull off your own panties and begin crawling up her body.

‘Excited’ doesn’t do it justice. You’ve hardly done anything and she already feels like she might die of happiness.

You feel her hands grab your ass, encouraging you to move much faster than you are, and you hesitantly oblige. “You can push me off if you need to, yeah?” You clarify. “Don’t wanna suffocate you or anything.”

Abby nods with a quiet mm-hmm only to appease you, but in her mind, suffocating to death while you sit on her face would be an honor. She’d probably die beneath you before the thought of pushing you off ever crosses her mind. For now, though, you do your best to be gentle as she ushers you to fully hover over her mouth.

Then, she pulls you down onto it.

A strangled moan escapes you when her tongue immediately finds its target, her patience clearly worn thin as she latches to your clit. Your hands fly down to grab her hair in attempt to ground yourself, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you’re having an out-of-body experience.

The worst part? Only Abby can make you feel this way.

Guilty, and so, so good.

Maybe she doesn’t know the extent of your feelings, but she knows your body like the back of her hand, and she uses that to her advantage. Her fingers dig into the pillowy flesh above your hip bones, surely hard enough to leave a few bruises, but you never complain about marks until you see them in the morning.

“Abs,” you manage breathlessly, “ease up, baby–”

You’re cut off by another moan as she somehow manages to pull you down further, unrelenting and making it impossible for you to escape. Not that you’d want to, anyways. So, you just grab her hair with one hand and grab the headboard with the other as your eyes flutter shut.

That is, until you hear your phone vibrate on the bedside table. Once, twice, three times; you soon realize that it isn’t stopping.

“Fuck.” You groan.

Abby looks up at you and slightly moves you down so she can speak, seemingly much more entertained by this than you. “Who’s calling?”

“It’s Owen,” you say truthfully, “I was supposed to go over to his place tonight, but here we are.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, you blew him off for me?”

“No shit. I’ll just silence it and pretend I fell asleep.” You grumble. Then, you reach over to grab the phone before she takes a hold of your wrist.

“Answer it.” She says.

You can’t help but laugh despite the forming pit of anxiety in your stomach, because you know that she’s dead serious. “What?”

“You heard me. Answer it or I’ll stop.” She repeats, making your eyes widen.

“…Fine, but can you please—” You’re interrupted by Abby pressing the green button for you, and you quickly bring the phone towards your ear.

The sound of Owen’s voice makes your chest feel tight. “Hey,” he says with an obvious concern in his voice. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you can only let out a gasp when you feel Abby’s lips wrap around your clit. Thankfully, her tongue moves more slowly than before, deciding to show you some mercy. “Yeah,” you breathe, “yeah, I fell asleep– I’m sorry, I really don’t feel good today. Think I might’ve caught something.”

It’s a pathetic excuse, but you can only hope he buys it. “Oh, that’s… uh, not good.” He mumbles, which makes you roll your eyes. “Do you want me to bring anything to your place? I have this cold medicine that could literally heal the bubonic plague, and I’m pretty sure I have some soup in one of these cabinets somewhere,”

You can hear him rummaging around on the other line. “No!” You blurt out. The last thing you need is Owen stopping by just to find out that you aren’t home. “No, I’m okay. Appreciate it, though.”

“You sure? If you’re worried about me getting sick, I can just leave it outside the door.” He continues.

“Really, Owen, it’s fine. Pretty sure I’ll feel better in the morning,” you assure him.

He sighs. “Whatever you say. Just let me know if you change your mind, okay? I’ll bring whatever you need.”

He’s kind. Too kind, considering your current situation. Abby’s mouth is latched to the most sensitive parts of you, her blue eyes staring up at you as you try your hardest to keep your voice steady. She kneads at the back of your thighs, getting you into a rhythm while you rut against her tongue.

All the while, you’re on the phone with a man who deserves much better. You’re aware of this. You tilt your head back with a shaky sigh.

“Okay,” you reply, “thanks, Owen. ‘Night.”

You don’t even wait for him to say it back before you hang up the phone, quickly throwing it off of the bed onto the carpeted floor. Abby smiles, and you can feel it. You reach down to grab a handful of her hair and pull it as hard as you can– which isn’t very hard, but it still makes her whine. “Fuck you,” you huff, thighs tensing on either side of her head, “I’m so close, Abs.”

Any annoyance you feel is overshadowed by the orgasm creeping up on you much quicker than usual. You already know that you’ll never forgive yourself for being so turned on by something so horrible.

Abby sticks her tongue out so that you can ride it, letting out moans of encouragement as you finally tip over the edge. Your mouth falls open and a gush of wetness fills Abby’s, which she happily laps up with her warm tongue. Her hands wander over your shivering body, listening to your muffled moans with her eyes trained on your face; more specifically, the tears that begin to run down your cheeks.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to crawl off of her face and crash into the bed beneath you, much to Abby’s dismay, but she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she crawls to your side, placing a strong arm over your stomach so she can pull you closer.

Though all of your instincts scream to push her away, you just curl into her and bury your face in the crook of her neck. She thinks maybe, just maybe, everything is fine; of course, until she hears you let out a quiet sob. One of her hands comes up to rub your back, a soothing gesture that only makes you cry harder.

“Hey,” Abby whispers, “are you… did I do something wrong? Was it the phone thing? ‘Cause if it is, I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”

“It isn’t that.” You mutter.

It’s only a half-lie. Honestly, you aren’t crying because you spoke to your boyfriend as if you weren’t hooking up with his ex, no. You’re crying because you thought it was the hottest thing ever.

“Isn’t it, though?” She questions. “Seriously, I fucked up and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t fuck up, Abs– I swear, it’s not you, it’s just… this. All of this. I don’t like it.” You do your best to reassure her, but it only causes more confusion.

“What, and you think I do? Because I don’t. I like you, though, so I deal with it. That’s what we agreed to.” Abby says. You can tell she’s upset no matter how gentle her voice is. There’s a certain bite to it, a venom that you’re quick to pick up on. “He’s my friend too, you know. This isn’t easy for me either.”

This comment makes you rear back a bit, looking up at her with furrowed brows. “I know that, Abby. None of this is easy for either of us. He’s my boyfriend, and he was yours at one point, too.”

“Don’t remind me,” she scoffs.

You give her a stern look. “I’m serious. This is gonna end one way or another. Someone’s gonna find out.”

Her grip on your waist tightens. “No one’s gonna find out if we don’t let them find out.”

“You don’t know that.” You shake your head. “All it takes is one fuck up.”

“So, what do you wanna do? You wanna break this off now and go back to being acquaintances?” Abby asks, voice raised defensively.

“Obviously not!” You yell, sitting up and dragging the comforter along so you can cover yourself. “I love you, Abby. I love being with you and talking to you and—”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that.” She interrupts you, which is probably for the better.

It’s different for Abby, being one of Owen’s closest friends, because he’s unaware of how well she knows you and so he feels comfortable confiding in her about your relationship. A big problem he seems to have is that you’ve never once said the word love. Not to him, at least. Not about him.

Yet, here you are, throwing that word around just for her.

She wants to feel honored, but she finds herself only feeling guilt. The kind that makes her throat tighten and her heart drop.

You groan in frustration. “But it’s true!”

“So make it untrue!” She shouts back. “You can’t just… say shit like that, and expect me to be okay with it. You’re supposed to love Owen.”

A confession bubbles up in your chest, one that you know you should shake away, but your mouth moves before your brain can catch up. “But I don’t.” You mumble. “I want to. I just can’t.”

Abby stares at you like she’s seen a ghost. All conversations she’s had with Owen about you– ones about how he’d propose to you someday, wondering if you’d want to have kids, asking if it was too early on in the relationship to think about saving for a house– they all become null. The worst part? Abby thinks she might know exactly how you feel. “You can’t? What does that mean?” She asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like.” You reply. “I try, but I can’t. We go on dates, and the whole time, I’m just waiting for it to be over. We watch a movie together, and I pretend to fall asleep so he doesn’t try anything. It’s exhausting, Abby. None of it feels right. Every single fucking guy I’ve been with– it never feels right. The only relief has been you.”

Abby listens to your rant with a blank expression, reaching up to wipe some stray tears from your cheeks with her thumb. “So, you’re gay.” She says.

You quickly grab her wrist and shove her hand away. “I’m not gay.” You hiss.

She sighs. “You just sat on my face. You’re a little gay.”

“Okay, fine, maybe a little!” You throw your hands up defensively. “But I don’t like other women. I like you.”

Truthfully, it’s all too much for Abby to take in at once; she does her best to appear, knowing her best bet is to calm you down, but she can’t imagine how much it would break Owen to know this. To know that he’s now been left by two women due to a sexuality crisis. Would he think it’s his fault? Would he guess that Abby had something to do with it? She likes you too, maybe more than she knows, but it’s an impossible situation.

When you’re met with silence on Abby’s end, you continue. “You’re gonna think I’m horrible for this, but it’s true; I’ve been waiting for him to fuck up so I have a reason to leave him. Some nights, he tells me he’s going to a party and I’ll go to sleep hoping I wake up to a text from Manny about how Owen got a little too drunk and some girl looked enough like me,” you shrug, “I’ve had that scenario in my head for weeks. It’s so convenient.”

“You’re fucked up,” Abby shakes her head, “fantasizing about him cheating while you’re sleeping with his friend? Jesus.”

“But it’s true, right? Then I could just leave him. No goodbye, no nothing. I’d give him all his sweatshirts back and let him see me wearing yours instead.” You say, and she immediately recognizes that tone in your voice. Something dark, something you put on when you know what you want and you’re set on getting it.

It hurts to hear you talk about her friend like he’s nothing more than an obstacle. It hurts even more to know that, deep down, she’d felt the exact same way once.

Wishing he’d leave her, knowing that he never would.

“Yeah.” She huffs, now visibly doing her best to avoid eye contact. Her eyes skitter around the room and it doesn’t take long for you to regret speaking your mind. “That sounds like an easy way out, but you should know by now that there’s nothing easy about being with Owen. Nothing’s easy about cheating, either.”

You nod in agreement. There’s a heavy silence after that, one that leaves you both staring down and biting your cheeks and feeling like all your sins had been laid out in front of you. The weight of it all is overbearing, but still so worth it.

“It’s easier with you,” you mutter after a minute, “and I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel the same.”

“I wouldn’t.” Abby agrees, deciding to leave it at that. “Do you… uh, do you wanna stay the night? Here, with me?”

Finally, your eyes meet hers, and she hates the way this simple action reignites the spark inside of her. You tilt your head. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t really return the favor, huh?”

Her jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as she fights back a smile. She shouldn’t be so infatuated with you– your every movement, every word– but she is.

The smile escapes her efforts and she shakes her head. “No. No, you didn’t.”

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut

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pin-k-ink · 4 months

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ambrosia // chrollo lucilfer

tw ⇢ casual relationship, fluff, mild angst, highly suggestive content, mutual pining, unspoken feelings (kinda)

wc ⇢ 2.8k

a/n: this is about as short as i could make it 💀

The exhaustion weighed heavy in your bones as you trudged down the dimly lit hallway, feet dragging with each step. With a resigned sigh, you fumbled for your keys, missing the lock a couple times before managing to shove the door open.

Your bags and belongings hit the floor in a scattered heap, but you paid them no mind. The lure of your bed called out with the comforting promise of blessed respite from the day's tribulations. However, no sooner had you stepped into the bedroom did your gaze fall upon the mussed sheets - a tangible reminder that slipping straight into oblivion wasn't an option until you'd cleansed away the day's grime.

Letting out a soft groan, you cast a longing look towards the balcony doors, curtains billowing gently in the wake of the warm evening breeze drifting in from outside. With leaden steps, you began peeling away the sweat-dampened layers, leaving a trail of discarded clothing in your wake as you shuffled towards the bathroom.

The simple act of submerging into the lavender-scented bathwater leeched away the worst of the day's stresses. You allowed your head to loll back against the tub's rim, eyes drifting shut as the tension slowly bled from your body in time with the low, ambient melody drifting from the speaker.

For a few precious moments, you simply existed - unraveling into the tranquil cocoon of heated water and fragrant steam. Until a niggling sense of unease began to prick at the edges of your consciousness. Something...wasn't quite right.

Your eyes snapped open, suddenly hyperaware of every minuscule sound and movement within the apartment's confines. Wasting no time, you surged upright and hastily wrapped yourself in a plush bathrobe, not even bothering to secure it before hurrying back towards the bedroom.

The bag you'd carelessly discarded still hung undisturbed from the door handle, instantly dismissing any fears of an intruder having slipped in behind you. No, whatever raised those subtle alarms originated from--

The balcony.

Those billowing curtains no longer danced upon an uninvited evening zephyr. Something...someone had allowed that inner sanctum's privacy to become violated.

You barely registered the faint footfall before suddenly being enveloped in an overwhelmingly familiar presence. A solid wall of warm strength molded itself against your back as a calloused palm cradled the sharp line of your jaw with surprising tenderness, tilting your head to allow the searing brand of heated lips to crash against yours.

For an eternal beat, you simply surrendered - muscles unlocking as your body instinctively arched back into that solid masculinity pinning you from behind. Your lips parted with a trembling sigh, allowing the sinuous glide of his tongue to delve deeper as you basked in the sensual possession.

A rumbling groan reverberated through his chest, reverberating against your water-slickened skin as thick fingers buried themselves in your damp tresses. He drank you in like a desert wanderer gulping down the first rain sublimely offering in a century of barren torment.

Just as abruptly, he tore away - both of you gasping for air in the wake of that searing conflagration. You blinked up at him through a heavy-lidded daze, reveling in the sight of his usually severe features slightly disheveled.

"Chrollo..." you breathed out his name like an oblation to the heavens. "Can't you ever enter through the front door like a normal person?"

One dark brow arched in a wordless exhibition of sardonic amusement. You could practically see the gears turning behind those fathomless black eyes as he studied your bemused expression through the lens of near-alien inscrutability.

"I was merely...testing your instincts," he finally rumbled in that rich baritone that never failed to ignite smoldering embers low in your core. "You've certainly improved in that regard, at the very least."

There was no need for clarification on what he referred to. This game of shadows and subtle violations was one you'd danced a thousand times before - each encounter carrying the same deliriously heady undercurrent of hunter and hunted.

Chrollo's hands drifted in an almost absent caress, parting the plush terrycloth folds of your robe to fully drink in the vista of your bare form. A muscle ticked in the hard line of his jaw as his gaze roved over every subtlety and curve with unhurried intensity.

"As beautiful as I remember," he murmured in that same deceptively mild timbre that somehow conjured visions of forbidden passions and nameless risks.

You couldn't resist the shiver that cascaded through you at the sheer, unrestrained honesty in that simple avowal - spoken so matter-of-factly. As though remarking on the weather or making philosophical commentary over an ancient text.

Chrollo's intense stare finally tore away, a ghost of something indefinable flickering through those black depths as they traced over the unmarred expanses of your throat and collarbones. "The marks I left have faded..." he noted with the barest undercurrent of what might've been disappointment or perhaps chastisement for your audacity in letting them fade.

Unable to resist puncturing the momentary tension, you let out a soft peal of hushed laughter. "It's been months since your last visit," you reminded gently, allowing your own hands to roam with deliberate seduction over the lean muscularity of his form. "If you require me to bear your mark so desperately...I'm happy to offer up a new canvas."

A low, rumbling growl spilled from between Chrollo's lips as he drank in the naked invitation burning in your eyes. In the next breath, his mouth had descended to scour heated, opened-mouth kisses and wordless growls of possession along the sensitive column of your neck and the upper swells of your bare breasts.

You rewarded each blazing caress with soft mewls and stuttering gasps, fingers spasming against the rigid terrain of his back as your head lolled shamelessly to allow better access. Only when Chrollo's avid ministrations had painted your skin in an intricate latticework of blossoming bruises did he pull away.

The self-satisfied smirk curling his mouth should've looked unbearably smug. But there was a fierceness, a rawness to his expression that stole the breath from your lungs and kindled flames throughout your core.

"There..." he rasped, onyx gaze roving over the fresh marks dotting your skin with undisguised relish. "That's better. Now you look more...yourself."

And with those few, softly uttered words, the final crumbling damns of propriety surrendered to the sweeping tide of unspoken wants thrumming vibrant between your essences.

Chrollo's fingers danced with unhurried reverence along the edges of your robe, allowing the plush material to slither free and pool in heavy folds around your feet. You stood before him in all your naked vulnerability, yet the searing intensity blazing behind his obsidian stare ignited no shame - only the delirious thrill of being so utterly laid bare before this singular force of nature.

His head dipped, mouth capturing yours once more in a searing conflagration of heat and restrained ferocity that had you melting back against the solid wall of his body. Chrollo kissed you like a man dying of thirst, desperate to drink down every nuance and subtle cadence that made your essence so intoxicating. So all-consumingly addictive, despite the countless others who might offer similar ambrosia.

You whimpered into the searing brand of his kiss, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the rigid musculature of his shoulders and back. Seeking any handhold, any corporeal tether to keep you anchored against the steadily mounting vertigo as Chrollo plundered the depths of your mouth with relentless passion.

Then, he was guiding you backwards - one large hand splaying against the small of your back to urge you towards the tangled haven of your bed. The backs of your thighs hit the mattress edge with a breathless jolt, momentarily breaking the heated melding of your mouths.

Chrollo took full advantage, dragging his lips in a scorching trail over the sharp bracket of your jaw and down the fragile collars of your throat. His tongue laved at the fresh marks already beginning to mottle and darken under the rough abrasion - a silent lay of claim and possession over every inch of your pliant, willing form.

"I can never seem to stay away for long," he confessed in a low, heady rasp muffled against your damp skin. "No matter how far my travels may take me, I always find myself pulled back into your orbit like a comet chasing the gravity well of a newborn star."

You shivered at the darkly poetic murmur, fingers combing through the thick silk of his hair in a silent beckoning. A part of you wanted to respond with levity, to deflect the undercurrent of visceral need thrumming through each graveled consonant. But the sheer intensity of Chrollo's presence - the overbearing weight of his focus - robbed you of any coherency beyond stunned capitulation.

So you simply held him closer, drinking in the ephemeral closeness while it lasted. For you knew the truth of things, didn't you? That this impassioned reunion, no matter how desperately you might wish to prolong the fever-pitched raptures, would all too swiftly reach its crescendo.

Leaving you once again awash in the cold solitudes of his absence. Merely another in the long succession of devastatingly finite encounters to be savored until his all-too inevitable departure from your world.

Yet even that unshakable understanding of your transient circumstance failed to dampen the rising swells as Chrollo continued his unhurried, sensual worship of your body. If anything, the sharp undercurrent of bittersweet temporality only amplified the profound catharsis of surrendering your every truth and vulnerability to inevitable brevity.

When at last he surged upright, features taut with an exquisite rictus of rapture and firelit shadows dancing across the harsh planes and angles, you drank in the sight with unabashed relish. Here was the man you knew in those fleeting ephemera - passion distilled into its most primordial essence and given razor-edged focus by the promise of imminent passing.

"Now," Chrollo rumbled in that dark, impossibly rich timbre that resonated straight into your depths. "Let's see if I can't reacquaint you with what it means to be truly...undone."

And with that softly uttered promise thrumming betwixt your essences, he began a slow, inexorable descent into the rapturous oblivions you'd both been chasing from opposite celestial shores...

The soft sounds of late night traffic eventually roused you from your contented slumber. Blinking slowly, you took a moment to let your eyes adjust to the dim, reddish glow filtering through the curtains from the neon city lights outside.

As wakeful awareness seeped back in, you became intensely aware of the warm weight pressed against your side and the steady puff of breath fanning across your bare thigh. Slowly, carefully, you pushed aside the heavy white comforter to reveal Chrollo's sleeping form beside you.

Even in the depths of slumber, his chiseled features held an intensity, an uncompromising edge that made your breath catch momentarily in your throat. He looked every inch the powerful, self-possessed man you knew him to be - not soft or vulnerable in the slightest despite the naked vulnerability of true rest.

Unable to resist, you reached out and lightly trailed your fingertips along the rigid planes of his back before sinking them into the tousled ebony waves of his hair. He was achingly beautiful like this, you thought. Not merely handsome in that overtly masculine way, but strikingly compelling in a manner that transcended the physical.

As if he could sense the weight of your reverent regard, Chrollo stirred beside you - obsidian eyes fluttering open to meet your enraptured gaze. He blinked once, slowly, before the hard line of his mouth curved into the barest hint of an amused smile.

"You've only been asleep for a couple of hours," he murmured, rich voice still rough and graveled from your earlier lovemaking. "It's still far too early to be waking up."

There was a hushed tenderness to his tone that caught you momentarily off-guard. As if speaking any louder might somehow disrupt the cloistered sanctuary you'd managed to carve out from the relentless momentum of the world beyond these walls.

"Tomorrow's your day off, isn't it?" Chrollo continued in that same soft timbre as one calloused hand drifted up to splay possessively across the dip of your waist. "We can delay my departure for a little while longer then."

You hummed a wordless affirmative, unable to tear your gaze away from the piquant lines of his profile as he settled back against the pillows. Unable to shake the strange sense of melancholy that always crept in during these afterglows, no matter how fleeting or indulgently you tried to immerse yourself in the present.

Unconsciously, your fingers resumed their idle combing through the silken strands of his hair as you struggled to commit every nuance, every detail surrounding you to the most indelible corners of your memory.

"When do you leave again?" The plaintive question slipped out before you could rethink it, immediately followed by a soft indrawn breath at how desperate, how painfully vulnerable you sounded in that singular query.

Chrollo's wandering hand stilled fractionally at your words. You watched, holding your breath, as a myriad of inscrutable micro-expressions flickered across his severe features before smoothing out into that same unstudied mask of characteristic impassivity.

When at last he responded, you could've sworn you detected the faintest rasp of reluctance roughening the normally impeccable precision of his diction. "Is that truly what you wish for me? To leave so soon while we still have time together?"

His gaze swiveled towards you with that uncanny, penetrative intensity that never failed to scour you down to the utmost core. As if he could already sense the treacherous undercurrents of yearning and unvocalized hopes battening against your restraints.

"Or perhaps..." Chrollo's deep timbre lowered to an insinuating rumble that catalyzed the fine hairs along your nape into an exquisite frisson. "Perhaps you’re unsure about…the nature of my attentions. Wondering if I have lovers waiting in every city I visit."

Slowly, too slowly for your rattled composure to fully process, he shifted until the hard planes of his body were aligned flush against your softer curves. One corded arm snaked beneath you, fingers splaying in an unspoken claim across the exposed expanse of your lower back as the other palmed your nape in a grip just shy of bruising. Holding you utterly subsumed and immobile against him without leverage or option to retreat.

"Let me be clear. These encounters we share are not mere dalliances to me. Meaningless flings I indulge in from city to city only to discard and forget," Chrollo's mouth hovered a teasing hairsbreadths from your own, each precisely enunciated word seeming to reverberate straight into the most primitive root of your nervous chassis like a forbidden tuning fork. "You are the only one, the singular connection I allow myself in this life. I don't share myself with others the way I do with you."

His fingers stroked the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. "If you wish for me to be here more often, to spend more time in your presence, you need only say so. But do not doubt that what we have is uniquely mine...and yours alone."

You searched Chrollo's eyes, letting the weight of his candid confession settle over you. His unwavering intensity made it clear he spoke nothing but the unvarnished truth.

For a long moment, you could only gaze at him in silence, struggling to make sense of the profound intimacy underlying his words. This went far beyond mere physical satisfaction for him, you realized. He had anchored some part of himself, his truth, to you in a way you hadn't grasped until now.

Slowly, you lifted one hand to trace the sharp line of his jaw, marveling at the way his penetrating obsidian stare seemed to strip you bare in more ways than one. You opened your mouth to respond, to try giving voice to the tangle of emotions binding your chest.

But Chrollo merely shook his head in a minute negative, silencing you with the faintest brush of his thumb against your parted lips. His expression took on a softer, almost wistful aspect as he pulled you flush against his body, burrowing his face into the haven where your neck and shoulder joined.

"Don't ruin this with words just yet," he murmured lowly, the rumble of his voice reverberating through you. "For now, just...exist here with me. Like this. While the moment still lasts."

You acquiesced without protest, slipping your arms around his waist as you allowed the solid reality of his embrace to surround and enfold you. Chrollo seemed to grasp your need for this elemental connection in the wake of his soul-baring admission.

No more words were spoken as you lay intertwined. The intimacy you shared transcended the physical, reaching an almost metaphysical resonance where the simple act of coexisting became a form of profound communication unto itself.

For now, this was enough. More than enough. As the night deepened and the reassuring thrum of Chrollo's heartbeat lulled you back towards contented slumber, you knew this truth:

No matter how far the tides of circumstance temporarily swept him away, the invisible tethers twining your souls together could never be severed. Not truly. This was your northstar, your truth - an unshakable constant at the core of your very beings.

#hunter x hunter x reader smut #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter smut #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader smut #hxh smut #hxh x reader #chrollo x reader smut #chrollo smut #chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo #chrollo lucilfer

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