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lipstickstainz · 4 years

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mismatched socks - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer's girlfriend (reader, FBI agent too) always wears mismatched socks and when they have their first night together at his apartment he notices, and his brain goes to mush, and falls in love with her even more

Warnings: fluff, some talk about Spencer being insecure Word Count: 2.2k A/N: thanks for the request, love! I really enjoyed writing it! requests are open guys! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had always known he was different. He had always been the smartest in school, which could be attributed to his eidetic memory. He wasn't invited to birthday parties because he liked to tell facts that were funny to him, but that no one else found funny. And he had been rather an oddball in other ways, too.

All his life this fact had made him insecure. He thought of himself as too skinny, too unathletic-especially when he compared himself to Derek, which was pretty stupid, of course-and his hair always lay funny, no matter how hard he tried to tame it. He wore cardigans over shirts-the watch over the cardigan, of course-which was pretty weird, but he wore Converse with them and two different socks every day. He loved magic and physics jokes. Spencer couldn't talk about the latest episode of Greys Anatomy, and he wasn't sure what Team Stefan and Team Damon were. Spencer didn't fit in perfectly anywhere and it had taken him time to accept that. He also never imagined anyone would find in attractive, or even want to be with him.

Until you came along.

On your first day at BAU, he immediately noticed three things about you. First, you walked incredibly fast, actually too fast to just walk from one office to the next. It seemed to her as if you were flying. Second, you tucked your hair behind your ears every few minutes, even when it wasn't falling in your face. He wondered why you didn't use a pin or a scrunchie. But it was a habit that didn't bother him in the least. From the moment he first saw you, he found you irresistibly pretty, and he was glad your hair didn't cover your face. And third, you could write ambidextrously. As the team sat in the conference room and you scribbled something in your case file - also something he noticed, you seemed to prefer paper as much as he did - you reached for your coffee cup with your right hand and continued to write undisturbed with your left, until the entire team looked at you as if you were from another star. It was a look Spencer knew all too well.

He had never met anyone like you.

Spencer liked you from the first moment he saw you. He liked that you took your backpack on both shoulders and that you preferred cocoa to coffee. He liked the way you smiled at him when he brought you one from the office kitchen and set it on your desk. And he liked the way your skin felt on his when you reached under the desk for his hand when you noticed a change in his demeanor. You then squeezed his hand twice. Once for "It's all right" and once for "I'm here, with you."

In your presence, everything seemed as easy as breathing. You listened to him when he blathered on about a subject you didn't understand, because you liked his intelligence and the way he explained things without looking down on others. You even asked when he had to explain something to you, which had surprised him so much the first few times that he had completely forgotten what your conversation was about. He had stared at you and the blush had come to his face. One feature that didn't escape you, but made him even more attractive to you.

When you went to his table one morning and told him that you had seen Star Trek for the first time the previous night, and now wondered how realistic the physics in the movie were, he could hardly stand it. You were beautiful and intelligent and interested in Star Trek? And when you asked him if he could explain something from the movie to you, he was sure his dream girl was standing right in front of him.

"I need your help", he told Derek that very day as they stood together in the kitchen. "How do I ask a girl out?"

Derek nearly choked on his coffee before turning to Spencer. "Since when do you want to date?" He noticed Spencer's gaze, which wasn't on him, but slid past him and lingered on you.You sat at your desk and tucked your hair behind your ears before looking up and over at Spencer's desk. Derek could see your gaze wander around the office and then linger on Spencer before you smiled and got back to work. With a grin, Derek looked at Spencer. "You're going to ask Y/N out on a date? Oh boy, it's about time you finally do. I already said to Penelope that -"

"Please, Morgan. I just want to know how to ask her out”, Spencer interrupted him, looking at his friend.

Derek's grin gave way to an honest, friendly smile. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Just ask her directly."

"And if she says no?", asked Spencer uncertainly, his mouth twisting into a thin line. He couldn't imagine you going on a date with him, but he couldn't stay in the dark any longer either. He had to at least try.

"She won't”, Derek assured him. The whole team felt that Spencer and you would be perfect for each other, but he didn't tell him that. Spencer should learn to walk before he starts running. "I can see the way she looks at you. And if she does say no, she's not as smart as I thought."

Spencer trusted Derek's words and took it upon himself to ask you out on a date that very day. He had phrased the question countless times in his head, even encouraging himself in the mirror in the men's room, but every time he stood in front of you and looked at your beautiful face, he couldn't get a single word out. They got stuck in his throat and he was so embarrassed that he fled from you several times. By the third time, he had red marks on his neck, which you noticed immediately, and you wondered how you had made him so uncomfortable without having really done anything. When he said nothing again, you put your hand on his forearm.

"Are you okay, Spencer?", you asked, and he just nodded. It's now or never.

"Wouldyougooutwithme?" He almost mumbled, but you had understood him perfectly. "If you don't want to, that's fine, and we'll pretend I never asked. We'll just keep being friends and -"

"Spencer," you interrupted, smiling up at him, "I'd love to go out with you," you replied, and he was able to breathe deeply again. The marks on his neck faded as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

He had done it. Spencer had asked you and you had agreed, but where was he going to take you? Nothing seemed good enough for him. Going out to eat was nice, but you didn't seem like someone who needed to talk the whole time. He thought movie theaters were dumb because you couldn't talk there at all. After two days he had thought of something and he wouldn't have minded if you thought the idea was stupid, but when he presented his idea to you, you smiled at him excitedly.

"I can't wait."

You spent your first date in Spencer's favorite library, surrounded by knowledge and stories. You walked the aisles together, telling stories of books you had read and found to be good, and books you had abandoned because they were so bad you couldn't finish them. As you walked through each aisle, which had actually taken an entire afternoon, Spencer didn't want the date to end. He was going to suggest something else, but you beat him to it.

"There's a couch over there. Shall we sit there? Then you can read me something from your favorite book."

You would be the death of him.

A few weeks later, you had arranged to go for a walk. The weather was nice, not too hot and not too cool, so you strolled hand in hand along the paths. He liked the fact that you worked together but couldn't just talk about the job. You were explaining to him why a certain Matt Donavan from a vampire series was incredibly annoying when someone stopped in front of you.

"Y/N! How nice to see you!", the young woman said, unceremoniously wrapping her arms around you. When she broke away from you, you looked at Spencer.

"Spencer, this is Lisa, my college roommate. Lisa, this is Spencer, my boyfriend”, you explained before you could think about what you had just said. You chatted briefly before going your separate ways again. You noticed a change in Spencer's behavior and feared you had misinterpreted everything. When you couldn't take it anymore, you stopped.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you my boyfriend”, you said, looking down at the ground in shame. "We've never talked about what exactly we are, but it feels like you're my boyfriend and I wish you were, so I -"

"Y/N”, he interrupted you and tenderly reached for your hand. A smile spread across his face. He couldn't believe himself that he would ask you that. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

The bar was crowded and the later it got, the more crowded you felt. The team had been in the mood to celebrate after a difficult case, so everyone had gathered in the regular bar. Penelope was putting on some dance moves on the dance floor while Emily and JJ were bawling out the song, which neither Spencer nor you knew. He had his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly to his side, which you enjoyed very much. He didn't fit in here with his shirt and cardigan, but he fit you, you were one hundred percent sure of that.

As you stifled a yawn, he looked down at you. "Shall we go? You seem tired and I'm getting ready to go to bed too”, he suggested and you nodded. Outside, he hailed you a cab and as you got in, you gave the driver Spencer's address.

"We're going to my place?", asked Spencer, looking at you in confusion as you nestled into his side.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay”, you replied, "If it's too soon for you for us to sleep together, then you just have to say so. I won't be mad at you."

How could he be mad at you? You wanted to spend the night with him. You wanted to fall asleep next to him and wake up next to him. He had hit the jackpot.

"Would you like to drink something?", he asked as you sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. It wasn't the first time you'd been in his apartment, but you'd never entered his bedroom before and you didn't want to take the step without him. It was still his apartment and his privacy and you respected that.

"Just water, please”, you replied, pulling your legs up so he could sit next to you. He handed you the glass and you took a big gulp.

In your presence, Spencer had never felt like an oddball. You never made him feel like he was different or weird. You didn't laugh at him, you laughed with him, and you had assured him many times how incredibly attractive he was to you, even if he couldn't see it. He wasn't too skinny or too unathletic for you. He dressed askew, but it suited him like a glove and you had imagined more than once what he would look like without clothes. It didn't bother you in the least that he wasn't interested in the technology of today. For you, he was just right. For you, he was perfect.

Even though you often assured him how much you liked him and how happy you were with him, he was still insecure from time to time. But as you sat there together on the couch and you put your legs on his thighs, he was one hundred percent sure that he didn't need to be insecure. On your left foot was a green sock, while on your right dangled an orange sock.

You wore the socks like he did. Two different ones. Had you seen this on him and copied it or had you always worn socks like this? A question that could be answered later. His heart stopped for a second, his brain turned to mush, which is why he couldn't control his following words either. "I think I love you."

Surprised, you looked to him and noticed that his gaze lingered on your socks. "You see my socks and then say you love me? Maybe something isn't going right in that clever head of yours”, you grinned and leaned towards him. Blushes shot up his face. "I love you too, Spencer."

Gently, you placed your lips on his. The kiss was tender, hesitant, but Spencer saw his chance and gently pulled you onto his lap before wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His heart threatened to overflow with love. As he placed his hands on your butt, you moaned softly into his mouth. He smiled.

In your presence, he didn't feel like he was different.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid gif #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #Jennifer jereau

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roanniom · 4 years

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The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield.

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?”

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn��t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

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gojology · 4 years

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Jealousy. (3/3)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS AND I RLLY LOVED HOW THE ENDING WENT BUT IF U WANT ME TO WRITE A LITTLE EXTRA OF WHAT HAPPENS AFTERWARDS JUST SPAM MY INBOX K THX ENJOY!!!! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo x Gender Neutral Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2286 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Cursing. ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS. 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Your plan with Geto finally unfolds, and Geto thinks with the information he has gathered, that it’s a perfect time for you to confess to Gojo. Shoko answers your suspicions about her and Gojo before Geto crashes the scene, telling you last second that he had set you up with Gojo for a confession, you had almost no time to prepare. Before you could even hold a proper scolding, Gojo arrives, it’s time to confess. “Okay, here’s the plan.” Geto slapped his hand onto the table, handing you a fizzy drink. You watched the bubbles rapidly float upwards. Inside, there’s various fruits, strawberries, kiwis, some lemons for added fanciness. “(Y/N), the drink is not what we’re focusing on.” he snaps his fingers, you glance up, he’s shaking his head and smiling. “Sorry, uh, I’m not good with serious conversations.” you twiddle with your thumbs, studying the table. Your fingers itch for your something to fidget with, the whole reason why you two met up was awkward anyways. You had conspired with Geto to make Gojo jealous. Having already tried being subtle, you had eyed him across the room, flirted with him, and he still hadn’t realized. You had bought him free stuff whenever you went to the store, and once again, he never really realized. Geto did, though. He always raised his eyebrows when you handed Gojo a bag of kikufuku from his favorite shop, or if you got him a stupid cheap trinket from the night markets. The point being, you were much more affection with Gojo then anyone else. Even when you tried to conceal this jealousy, the cracking point was when you had found out that Gojo had gone out with Geto the night before and had sex with a few random girls. You had chewed Geto and Gojo both out, while Gojo was yawning and tousling his hair, boredom evident in his face, Geto examined every single little thing about your body language. How your face seemed to drop a little more when you talked about Gojo, and how you seemed so self conscious when you talked about the girls that he had had fun with. He had approached you, with no time for small talk. His arms crossed, he blew a strand of hair away from his face, looking at you. He had oh so casually asked you if you had a thing for Satoru, and here you were now. Just short of having a heart attack from sheer panic. “Hey. Don’t be scared.” placing one of his hands on your shoulder, he smiles. “I know Gojo, did I ever tell you how we compared dick sizes once? Wild, I’ve also had a few foursomes-” You retch, and Geto snickers. “Moving on, that guy gets jealous EASILY. He’s also as dumb as a rock, probably can’t define the word love.” he looks down, the easygoing expression on his face wiped off, replaced with a rather saddened one, “but I guess he hasn’t experienced the feeling a lot.” He looks back up at you, brushing his bangs behind his ear. “This brings me to Operation: Make Gojo Jealous Because That’s The Only Way I Know How To Get Him To Realize If He Likes You or Not!” He leans over the table, looking left and right before leaning into your ear. “What do we say if Gojo doesn’t like you back?” Your stomach twists as the words, “Gojo doesn’t like you back.” echoed in your mind, you sigh. “That’s okay Gojo, and whatever your opinion is, I will respect.” “Perfect, if you have any objections, tell me now.” A deafening silence settles between you two, he chuckles again. “Also, Shoko’s smart as shit. She can probably catch on, or maybe she already knows that you have a crush on him. Maybe she’ll play into this, fair warning. Alright, ready? Listen close.” He stops leaning over the table, sitting back down normally. “We start spending a lot more time with each other, as in, we spend more than half of our day with one another.” you open your mouth to complain, as Geto would be sure to annoy you knowing that you had to spend half the fucking day with you, but he shushes you up with his finger. “I’m a good stalker, so I’ll be watching Gojo. If he doesn’t have a crush on you, he’ll be just fine. Albeit, just a bit lonelier, because his best bud is ditching him for you, maybe talk to Shoko or some shit. If he DOES in fact have a crush on you, he’ll watch our every move. He doesn’t hide his anger very well, so I’ll be able to tell.” “You’re a good WHAT?” “Shut up, and I have everything planned out. We’ll probably have a celebration at this park after we get back from wiping out all the curses from this village, and by then I’ll have enough information to see if that’s a good day to confess to him. Understand?” You nod, shocked that he had literally planned this all out. He gets up, nodding at you and waving, giving you a playful wink before leaving the room. — Here you were now, sitting on the picnic blanket. Shoko digs her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few cigarettes. You eye them as she whips out a lighter, delicately placing the cigarette into her mouth and lighting it. Taking in a deep breath, you watch her exhale, a hazy cloud of gray swirled around into the air. You never took Shoko as a person to smoke, but your gut wrenches. Does Gojo like smokers? He seemed interested in Shoko, and maybe Shoko was trying to confess with him before you and Geto had crashed the party. Nervously shoving the marble in your ramune down, you stutter, Shoko glanced up. Her lukewarm eyes stared into yours. “Have a question, honey?” her cigarette between her pointer and index, she coughs before placing it back into her mouth. “Uh, yeah. A-actually.” A pleasantly surprised face covered her calm expression, looking at you with curiosity, she nods, telling you to continue. “...Do you have a crush on Gojo?” She looks at you, bewildered, before pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. Chortling turning into coughing, she spits into the grass. “Oh NO honey, I can’t even picture dating a guy, actually, especially not that monkey. What made you think that?” Waves of relief rushed over your body, and you realize how stiffly you were sitting up. Relaxing your shoulders, you take a swig out of your ramune. “Uh, I-I don’t know. I saw you two u-uh... Really close...” Shoko smiles, her eyes crinkle at the side as she did. Scoffing a little, she places the cigarette back between her lips, taking a deep inhale before exhaling. “We were talking about shit, no bother, oh hey, Geto’s back.” You stare at where she’s pointing, Geto’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He had a toothy grin on his face, and strands of hair strayed from his bun as the wind whipped against him. “(Y/N)! I have news~!” he screams, approaching the picnic with long strides. Your heart jumps out of your chest, did he talk for you instead, and got Gojo to confess? “I set you and Gojo up!” he sang, sitting down with a heavy thud and digging his hand into the picnic basket, sticking his tongue out as he searched for snacks. He looks at you sadistically, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expression on your face. “WHAT?” Shoko snickers a little, before changing it into a cough as you glare at her. “Yep, he’s coming back now, so you better prepare!” yanking out a snack, he peers down. “Fuck yeah! Dried squid!” “ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING IGNORE HOW YOU JUST SET UP MY CONFESSION WITH GOJO SO CASUALLY?” He looks up at you, sharing a look with Shoko before both burst into laughter. “(Y/N) being angry is a fucking knee slapper, isn’t it Shoko?” ‘Who the fuck uses the phrase knee slapper, Geto?” Ignoring Shoko’s sarcastic comment, Geto stared up at your figure. “Anyways, go for it sweetheart.” Geto calmly responds, Shoko still laughing. You splutter, cursing Geto under your breath and everyone under his family tree for raising such a child. “Aw hey now (Y/N), no cursing me! I know you’re doing it, and hey look, here he comes! Shoo lovebirds!” he waves his hand. Shoko, in an attempt to calm down, pulled her knee into her chest and giggled into her arms. You match your line of sight with his, Gojo’s lanky build was quickly approaching. Instead of his usually scowling face, he seemed more relaxed. “Yo.” he scratched the back of his neck as he walked up to the group, studying the grass. “Sorry for blowing up.” Geto stood up, patting Gojo’s back. “There there, truthfully no one gives a fuck! Actually, I don’t know if you remember but (Y/N) over here requested your audience, bye bye now!” shoving Gojo in your direction, he stumbled a little, before scrambling and placing his hands on your shoulder. ‘Sorry.” he murmured, a light blush crept up to his cheeks. “had to try to grab onto something or else I fall flat on my face.” You found your cheeks also getting warm, you touched your skin, thankful that he was looking in another direction. “Yeah. No problem.” “Fuck off, you two! Flirt somewhere else!” hollered Geto. “OKAY, HOLY SHIT!” hollered Gojo back, rolling his eyes before he looked down at you. “Geto told me you wanted to talk to me about something.” Your breath hitched, and you nodded nervously, he cleared his throat, arm snaking around your waist. Shocked by the sudden realization that he had his arm wrapped around your fucking waist, your heart was now pounding out of your chest, eyes wide. “The plot thickens.” Shoko lazily laid her head down on Geto’s shoulder, he grinned. “That’s my fucking child right there.” — Gojo walked with you on a long, narrow path. Trees as a sort of canopy hung over your head, rustling with the wind. No people in sight. He cleared his throat again, looking down at you. “Uh, here looks really nice. Pretty peaceful, and there’s seating.” he gestured to a bench with his unoccupied hand. You nod as he pulled you a bit closer into him, before letting go. A whine almost leapt out of your throat before he slammed your hands over your mouth, for all you knew he wasn’t going to ask you out, and rather ask you directions to the nearest bathroom or some shit. “Hey, sit down.” Snapping out of your daze, you nodded, sitting down and staring at the opposite direction of wherever he faced. You wished you had the courage to stare at his face, to look at his sunglasses while he ruffled his snow white locks. His defined collarbones, and his chiseled jawline and... “So! What did you wanna talk about, (Y/N)?” you whipped your head to stare at him, jumping a little as you did so. “Um.” FUCK, what were you supposed to say? “...Lovely weather we’re having?” Gojo scoffed, leaning towards you. He really did know how to work a person. Breathing heavier then you were when he pulled you closer to him, you looked at him, anticipating whatever he would say. “I know that’s... Not what you were asking to talk to me for. Let me guess, you have a crush on Geto and you want to ask me how to get him to like you?” ‘What! No!” you responded exasperatedly, hiding your face with your hands. “I... Don’t have a thing for Geto!” “What was that?” Gojo paused, before pulling at your sleeve. “Hey, I couldn’t hear you.” joking teasingly, he fixed his askew sunglasses. “I DON’T HAVE A THING FOR GETO!” He jumped back, rubbing his temples and sighing before chuckling. “You didn’t have to be that fucking loud! Holy shit that hurt my ears.” rubbing them, he looked at you with a laugh. You noted that his friendly behavior was back in business, as opposed to the serious one he had adopted as soon as you started hanging out with Geto. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed as his laughter died out, both of you silent. “Then... Who do you have a thing for?” Gojo whispered breathily, crossing his legs. You opened your mouth, about to respond with every bit of power that you had left inside of your already frazzled body that he was the one that you had a thing for, and the one you had a thing for for multiple fucking months. You closed it before you could, taking a deep breath in. “Hey.” leaning closer into your face, you swore you could count every hair strand that he had. He breathed heavily as well, and his chest heaved, he placed a hand onto your shoulder. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” You shook your head, looking away once again. He cursed to himself, was he too straight forward? Or were you that stupid, did he have to confess himself? No, he didn’t want to damage his pride. He wanted you to confess, to tell him how much you loved him, and the things you wanted to do together. But what if you were going to tell him that you had a thing for Shoko or some shit? “Come on, (Y/N), I won’t judge you.” ‘No!” you shook your head furiously again, “you’re going to judge me!” “I wont, come on, spill!” You bit your lip, twisting yourself to look at him, tears dawning on your eyes. Diving headfirst into his chest, you whined. Fuck it all. “I like you, Gojo.” “...What?” he wrapped his arms around your head, looking down at you sniffling on his t-shirt. “I like you, I like you, I like you DAMN IT!” you whined, banging your fists against his chest weakly. “Woah, hey there little baby.” he pushed your head gently off of him, kissing your red, sweating forehead gently. “I like you too, (Y/N).

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semischarmed · 4 years

Text

Clarity

My hot roommate Zach is the perfect man. I think I won the cosmic lottery when we got paired freshman year. “Roommates for life!” he shouted, as he wrapped a tone arm around me in a side-hug. I chuckled, of course. Who knew the cutest guy in our dorm was such a dork. I remember that moment vividly, committed every last detail to memory. In what he likely only barely remembers, I recall to the last detail. I play it back often -even moreso, nowadays: The crisp autumn breeze. The filtered sunlight through amber trees, bathing us both in golden afternoon. The warmth of his touch, and the unintended taunt from his arm pulling me towards him and his jacket ever so slightly wrapping over my back. The slight, dense smell of coffee wafting from him and his minty breath cutting through. Thats how I remember him. Warm. Sincere. Safe. Zach would probably say that was the moment we became best friends. I, on the other-hand, would say that was the exact moment when I fell for him.

We did everything together from then on: Ate together, joined the same clubs, signed up to the same classes- that first year we were inseparable. Best friends to a tee. I’m not even sure what he saw in me- the guy was a hell of a lot more sociable than I was. He could literally find anyone else on campus, yet I had the privilege of being his roommate and friend. I commit that wonderful first year to my life. It is my happiest year to date. I commit that version of Zach to myself as well.

Trouble started early in our second year. He spent all summer back home, hanging out with his high school friends and his brothers. When we finally met back in our new room, he seemed distant. Still, I made the effort, getting closer and closer to him every day. He’d been sending signals too, I think. A stray touch, just a half second too long. A lingering stare in my direction. A gentle smile when I ask him a bout his day. I had to know for myself with certainty.

So, one terrifying October night, I asked him straight up.The fucker laughed. Cruel, hideous, insensitive laughter. I’d never felt more alone in my life than when he laughed at my confession. That broke something in me. I quickly ran to my bed, crying myself to sleep. Without skipping a beat, Zach left the room to grab a bite to eat, seemingly unchanged by my outright confession. I had never been so humiliated in my life, yet only he would ever know. Still I felt him hold that over me in the weeks to follow like a dark cloud. Of course he’d still offer hangouts. He’d ask for help with some dumb assignment or try to get me to open up by faking some issues about himself. He was mocking me. I felt his sneer, ever-present from behind. Thats when I began researching alternative methods to exact what I needed from him.

Why a private university had a book like this is beyond me. It was a spellbook. A dangerous one, at that. All manner of incantation and processes regarding the human soul. I poured myself the next few weeks on its pages religiously. Translation is a massive pain in the ass but it gets done.

“Love cannot be created by spell,” it stated. Leave it to a fucking book to let me down too. I wiped away stray tears until I caught sight of the last batch of spells. I sighed at its contents. Fine. I couldn’t make him love me through magic, but I could have him the next best way. His body. The final section of this book of spells is, of course, the curses and enchantments required to possess another being.

———

The preparations have been made. It’s another late, awkward night in our room, where he just passes by, gives me a nod and a grimace and then heads to bed. This night would be different. I chant the words. The price is steep. Half of my body’s lifespan for the ability to take someone over in their sleep. That’s the one I settled on. Of course, there were more permanent spells outlined, but this seemed to be a happy medium.

The magic is dark in nature, and I feel the cloud over me deepen. I feel myself detach. It’s weightless, but grounded. Makes sense, given the purpose of this spell. I watch my target and lick my astral lips. There he was, happily dreaming without a care in the world. I study every curve, like sculpture. He is muscled, but tone. Zach likes to sleep with his shirt off, so I get to see what powerful chest up close. I watch as powerful lungs, drawn in air before gently dispersing it. Perfection. I watch that beautiful face lie still in a satisfied smile. Angelic. This body is power, incarnate. My power, soon.

I follow closes until I am but inches from his face. I stir around him, slightly. I want him to know it’s me. Bleary eyes open and he gives a weak smile when he sees me. “Dude-” the smile quickly fades to shock. “Wait what the fuck...” in sinful glee I push into my man. He involuntarily absorbs my particles, my spirit. He tries to push me away, to get me off him. Hands are useless to stop me. I phase through them with no resistance. His breath quickens as he begins to panic. This only further brings me into him, as he is forced to breath in the only air around him-me.

Then, he starts choking, trying to force the parts of me in him out. I am unfazed. Instead, in I keep filling into him until all of me is inside. This is the way we were meant to be. He pulses and convulses and chokes while I align myself into him. I revel in Zach. In being Zach. Despite all the shit he pulled this year, he still is perfection. My perfection, now.

I command his lips mine. “Invoke me. Become me. Manipulate this body. Explore us. Stay, in me. I want you here, forever.” They’re not words he usually uses. I rile in a frenzy when these phrases leave his lips at my behest. When his voice becomes my own and I make us moan. When his body complies with my every whim. When Zach’s flesh is mine. It is euphoric. Orgasmic even. I intend to follow through, to reward it. To pleasure it. God it feels good being in him. Being him. He may not love me, but love me he will, even if indirectly. Every waking moment I spend inside this man will be a moment of him loving himself, loving me. Now, And then I feel it. I clutch my head in pain. Zach.

Veins strain in his forehead as he puts every last effort to exorcise me out. Resistance almighty in this body. In tears I feel myself stripped from momentary heaven. He chokes as a dense fog that is me escapes his mouth. He is successful.

When I am kicked out of his body abruptly, I flare in anger. How could he do this? How could he? I look back at my slumbering form. No matter. My resolve is steel. Somehow, somewhere deep inside me, I knew somewhere it had to come to this. I chant the final curse mentioned in the spellbook. The price is the steepest of them all.

I watch as my physical form dissipates. I writhe as I am renewed with newfound energy. Potency. Virility. I’ve put in everything. Everything I ever was into becoming him. Zach would be mine, no matter what.

Before he can readjust, before he can even think about what had just occurred, I flood back inside my man. Inside my body. My one true body, now, given what I had to sacrifice. I make him smile while he takes me in. Smile in preparation of a new, permanent driver. I thrust my astral form inside its new home. It’s warm. Roomy. muscular. We make this body grin, shout, cry, writhing all the way in its sheets in our battle for control. I’m not even sure he knows what he’s doing when he fights me- but he always was a natural in everything he picked up. I feel our shared muscle contract and relax as it is forced to accept its two masters- soon to be one. Soon to be me. Zach’s soul was strong but no one was a match for the full force of an entire human body-turned-spirit. I feel his soul start to lose footing. Jackpot. Immediately fill take its place. My place.

I was far deeper in Zach now than I was before. His essence struggles, trying to escape me but I keep us steady, hold us tight. Our minds begin to connect this time around and we sync. The book said this was a necessary step. I blink away our tears into a satisfied smile. Our face is flush from the fight, flush from my greatest victory. “You’re mine forever,” I think to myself, My words. The verbalization of my invasive thoughts in his head- they’re spoken in his tongue. In his jock-like inflection. I even now think in his voice. Of course, it’s relatively minor in the grand scheme of things. Yet it is undeniable proof. The finality of it all. Proof that my body no longer existed in this world. Proof that for me, forever, Zach would be my default. Just one last step to it all. One last push- I’ve already given this much, there was no going back. I would displace Zach as the true owner of this body. It’s as the final line in the book states: “Encapsulate their soul, devour it, digest it, make it yours. Then, true control at long last.”

Tears stream down our shared cheeks as we both realize the true gravity, the true consequences of my actions. We are synced now, but I haven’t yet completed the process. So, our emotions are a mix. So, it’s bittersweet. He’s mine. We’re one. I’m finally with Zach in a way most intimate. Despite it all, he isn’t fighting back. Why?

I rage inside him, wanting him to be mad, wanting him to hate me, to give me justification my ultimate transgression. He offers none. Instead, I am hit with borrowed clarity. More of his memory floods into me and I begin to cry.

I watch my every worst moment through his lens, relive the demons of my past and yet, from his perspective they never looked quite as dark or traumatic as I had made them out to be. Even my confession itself, my initial catalyst, had merely been a blip in Zach’s mind. If anything, he had been more concerned that his own nervous laughing was the cause of my spiraling. I quickly realize how much wasted time I spent, building up Zach into this god in my head. My god. In the end, he was human after all.

I feel Zach pull instances of himself from my memories in turn. It turns out he had many, many insecurities as well. Many moments where he needed validation or support. Many moments, even in recent memory, where I had never picked up on on his fear and self doubt. An offhand comment here. Some self-deprecation there. Of course, stupid me always there to respond by telling him to quit joking around. I felt the months of torment he felt in my coldness after my confession. He wasn’t making fun of me or being an ass, he wasn’t even patronizing (well, he wasn‘t trying to at least)- he thought he was losing a friend. The guy was just a bit oblivious. God I was so dumb. Of course, he blames himself for my eventual actions. Poor guy. Zach didn’t deserve any of this- he never did. “Thank you” he cries in new clarity.

In mental tears I begin to undo my connection to him. It’s not something he had the capacity to do himself- I made that a reality when I used my physical form as tribute. I know the price which must be paid, for my greatest sin, born from misunderstanding. There wouldn’t be much left for me- the price for the spell was my physical body after all. It didn’t matter. I made that choice for myself when I recited the spell. But Zach... he had no choice at all. He still had a chance at a life. A life well-lived with knowledge and confidence gained from my memory. It was the least I could give him.

I begin to drift away as I balance the cosmic scales. I detach the last of myself from Zach, ready to give him back his body, ready to return him to his life. It’s merely a reverse of the process from before, yet it all feels lighter somehow. I take it as a sign of karmic justice. Of course, I am scared. Who knows what awaits me? Maybe I can find another body to inhabit. Maybe one in a coma. Maybe i’ll be reincarnated. Maybe nothing. Maybe I’ll just vanish on the spot...

Zach doesn’t give me the chance to find out. I feel his astral hand holding on to mine. His face is sympathetic. Kind. Warm. Like it used to be. Like it always was. His body leans up to pull me into a warm embrace. I start crying in spirit. “You, you don’t have to do this-”

“I know” he says. He pulls me tighter. “Roommates for life, remember?” Now he’s crying. “There’s no way to go back- we both know that, but you still got a life to live-we both do.” He smiles as he guides me to himself. I reattach to him. We weave our souls as one. “C’mon man, I told you I grew up sharing a room.” I am a complete mess of emotions at this point. Unworthiness, Love, Relief. I feel his mess too. Neither of us knew where to go from here, but we both knew we’d face it together.

The experience was sobering, to say the least. We cried together that night. We cried at newfound realization. We cried at irreversibility of what I had done. Hell, we even cried at the extra rent that had to now be paid. I had no way of undoing what I did, and Zach wouldn’t let me go. In the end, we decide to just give it a go, a resolve to live as one person. “Zach 2.0,” as he jokingly put it. Dork.

———

“A happy accident,” is what Zach called the events of that night. He always was the optimist. Although, these days, I’m a bit of an optimist now too. I am Zach now too, after all. All things considered, we’ve done quite well together. Zach 2.0 was everything. We were smart, intuitive, confident, compassionate. We’ve made this body the healthiest it’s ever been. Hell, together we even graduated with honors, something neither of us could ever hope to do alone. Both our parents were real proud of that one- he told mine at my funeral that we had been together and we’ve been in close contact ever since. By no means were we the perfect man though. There was no perfect man. We’ve had our share of fights, struggles, times where one of us would take full control of this body we share, shut the other out.

Once in a blue moon, we both dream of what our lives could have ended up as, had I not done what I did or had he let me disappear that night. In retrospect, I really do think my life had a lot of things going for it. Hindsight is always 20/20, as he likes to say. I saw many an opening, so many areas for improvement that my younger self was blinded by in lust and perceived betrayal. There was so much life I could have lived, had I just not opened that stupid book. I don’t dwell on it too much though. We’re both quite happy sharing this body. I’m living in one body with my crush, whats not to like?

The first few months were quite jarring. Our friends and family would see us happy and outgoing at one moment and then flip to quiet and reserved on a flip of the switch. Gratefully, they been patient with us, assuming it was the byproduct of a grieving boyfriend. The more years I grow with him, the more alike we have become. Sharing one body and living one life tends to do that. I’ve probably rubbed off on him a little too. He’s just a bit more analytical now, a bit more perceptive, and I’ve learned to let loose every once in a while. Altogether, we make a great team. We’ve even managed a slew of relationships along the way. Hell, he’s even gone out with some guys-no doubt a byproduct of my soul being a part of him. Of course, in the ultimate cruel twist of fate, they never last- he tells me “none ever match me”. Well of course they can’t. I’ve lived every moment with him, felt his every thought, lifted him when he was up, consoled him when he was down. Ironically, in a roundabout way, the spell did end up causing love, causing for him to fall for me- at the cost of us never being able to be a couple in the physical sense. Guess you really can’t have it all.

In the few years we spent together my love for him has only deepened. I know he feels the same way. We are one person, after all. All things considered, it’s not a bad setup. If love on the physical plane happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t- then we still always have each other. Regardless, I’m sure we’ll find someone out there for the both of us, someday-there’s that optimism again. Of course, we don’t pine for it. Our main focus has always been each other. Growing together. We’ve got a whole life yet to live. And he’ll have me with him every step of the way. And we can’t wait to face it all, together.

-End-

Eh, it’s a bit underdeveloped but I’m not a novelist and I didn’t want to spread this out over parts. Going for something a little different with number 14- hope y’all like it!

#male possession

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pascalpanic · 4 years

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Ten

Summary: you finally get to visit the boys at the embassy. You and Javier finally get to consummate the relationship.

W/C: 6k+ (I’m sorry it’s the FINALE I had to)

Warnings: language as always, mentions of injury, SMUT! (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation if you squint, p in v sex, Javier Peña is his own warning when it comes to sex

A/N: YOU GUYS. this is it! I’m so honored that you guys love it as much as you do. This series was originally only supposed to be a oneshot but I just fell in love. I’m so glad I get to share it with you all! BIGGEST thanks to @remmysbounty for being my Colombian culture expert in this and helping me with my spanish phrases, listening to my ramblings, and generally being my editor and idea helper.

previous chapter | epilogue

“Ana, phone for you,” Lorena calls as you walk past the nurses’ station.

You nod, but you’re carrying a tray of medicine for a patient. “Can it wait?” You ask.

Lorena asks the person and then looks back up at you. “He says it’s quick.”

Sighing, you walk behind the desk. “Will you take this tray for me? Room 429,” you ask, and she nods dutifully, walking off with it after handing the phone to you. You answer the phone with your name, sitting in the chair Lorena was just in.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” a familiar southern voice says from the other end. You panic for a moment, wondering why he called you, but his voice seems relaxed. It can’t be anything too bad.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, twirling the phone cord around your finger, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk.

Steve chuckles. “Not much. Just Javi bein’ a dumb fuck.”

“What’s new?” You sigh, but you both know that both of you have affection behind your teasing.

“Exactly,” Steve says in agreement. “Anyway, Javi’s back at work, as you know. The bandage he has is falling off, and he says it’s fine but I know enough from Connie to know that’s not good. She said you get off work soon, would you bring some stuff to the embassy?”

You look at the watch at your wrist. He’s right. You get off at noon, and it’s about 10 right now. “Yeah, of course. Could I bring you guys lunch too? Eat with you?”

There’s a small snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Listen, though, there’s some real shitty guys around here. You’re gonna get hit on and Peña isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“I’ll be wearing scrubs, Steve. What is there to talk about?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Lonely and horny men desperate for an American woman aren’t above much. Just… lettin’ you know now.”

“I think I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can hear it in your tone. “I’ll be there at 12:30 with lunch and supplies for Javi, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Thank you, kid.”

“I’m, like, a few years younger than you. You act like you’re my dad.”

“Whatever,” he laughs and hangs up the phone.

After your shift, you enter Valeria’s diner. Her eyes light up as she sees you, rushing your way. “¡Ay, mi hermosita! ¿Quiubo, chiquita?” She asks, grabbing your arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell her genuinely with a smile. “I didn’t know if… the bombing, if it affected you. I’m so glad it didn’t.”

“And me with you! Especially that Javier, dios mio,” she shakes her head.

“Actually...” you chuckle a little. It’s a nervous laugh, afraid to tell her what happened. “Javi was injured. He and his partner were very near the bomb. He’s okay now, but he lost a lot of blood and had to have emergency surgery. He’s got a big scar here,” you tell her and trace along your abdomen where his injury was. “He’s back at work already, but he spent a few days in the hospital and about a week or two at home.”

Valeria frowns. “Oh no. I’m glad he‘s alright now. I worried so much about him, but I figured he lived since there were no American casualties.”

You nod. “Exactly. I’m actually on my way to the embassy now, bringing him some bandages, and I wanted to pick up lunch for him and his partner.”

The woman claps her hands together excitedly. “And here I am, blabbering on! I’ll go get an order in for you. What would you like, dear?”

You put in an order that you figure Javi and Steve would both like, waiting contently at a booth Valeria seats you at and sipping a coffee she brought to you.

The little restaurant makes you smile as you think about the memories. Laughing with Javier for hours in the early morning, sharing life stories and experiences. You realize now that you think you loved Javier even then, on the night when you sat a few booths over, wrapped in his leather jacket while his mustache collected little grains of sugar and cinnamon.

Not long after, Valeria comes to your table with two large bags of food. “I couldn’t help myself- I threw a few extra desserts and snacks in. Javier needs to eat more, tell him that I said that and that’s why there’s so much.”

You laugh happily and stand. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

She takes your payment and hands you a large to-go cup of coffee- you deserve it after such a long shift, she tells you- before sending you on your way. The embassy is a distance away, and you hail a taxi to make your way there. The car fills with the scent of the fresh food, making your stomach rumble. When you arrive, you pay the driver and head inside.

A receptionist sits just inside. “May I help you?” She asks politely and without much interest.

“Uh….” you hadn’t expected this step. “Yes. I’m here for Agents Murphy and Peña?”

She nods, grabbing the phone. She dials a number and talks, making a face of annoyance as she switches to speaking English. She must’ve dialed Steve. She hangs up not long after. “Murphy will be here in a moment,” she tells you with a nod, and you back away to allow the next person to talk with her.

Steve finds you about a minute later. “Hey. That’s a lot of food,” he chuckles as he looks at the large bags you’re carrying.

“I went to Javier’s favorite place. This one waitress there absolutely adores him, so she gave me extra because he doesn’t eat enough,” you inform him with a smile. “She even threw in some free desserts.”

“Jesus. We could feed the whole embassy with those,” he shakes his head, taking one from you to lighten your load.

You walk through hallways and several sets of stairs, before entering the office area and finally reaching the two desks, one messy and one neat. Javier sits at the cluttered one, looking up and eyes lighting as he sees you. “Hey,” he laughs and even dares to smile: a rare sight when he’s at work. “What are you doing here?” He asks, rolling his chair back from his desk and taking your hand.

“Steve said you needed bandages,” you shrug and hold up one of the bags.

He gives him a dirty look and the blonde man simply shrugs, sitting at his own desk.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What’s all this then?” He asks, referring to the bags you and Steve carry.

You set one on a free space in his desk and untie the top of the bag, setting a takeout container in front of him. “Lunch,” you say simply, opening the styrofoam to release a drift of a delicious smell.

Javier sighs at the scent. “Did you see Valeria then? Is that why there’s so much food?” He asks with a little laugh.

You nod. “Exactly.”

Javier sighs and grabs a fork from the bag. “Here,” he says, pulling you to sit on one of his thighs. You squeal at the movement, laughing and grabbing the desk once you’re seated.

“At least warn me, huh?” You laugh and he steals a quick kiss from you, earning a whistle from a man who walks past.

“Wow, Peña has moved on from fucking the informants,” the man chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You both glare at him, though he finds yours more intimidating than Javier’s. “Mm, we’re projecting our sexual frustration, are we?” You ask, taking a bite of food in your mouth with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry about us, run on home to the wife who doesn’t want your dick anywhere near her,” you say with a sweet smile, turning back to Javier’s desk and sipping your coffee.

The man walks away with wide eyes and Murphy laughs genuinely. “Holy shit,” he shakes his head and smiles.

“What? It’s clearly true,” you chuckle, looking back at Javier and taking another bite of the food in front of you. He’s got his heart in his eyes, barely managing to hold back a grin.

“I fucking love you,” Javi laughs contently, waiting you to finish chewing. When you do, he kisses you passionately for a moment, releasing you a few seconds later.

“You got some observational skills, kid,” Steve snorts and shoves a bite of food in his face. “We should get you working here.”

You roll your eyes. “What is your thing with calling everyone kid, Murphy?” Javier laughs, and you nod enthusiastically. You were just about to ask the same thing.

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the phone on Javier’s desk rings. “Peña.” He makes several noises of agreement before hanging up a few moments later. “Trujillo needs something. Be right back,” he tells the both of you and presses a kiss to your head. You stand to allow him to, and he kisses your lips quickly before speed-walking up the steps from the bullpen area and out to somewhere else.

You sit back down and both you and Steve continue eating your food. A minute or so later, a woman walks past but stops as she sees you. “Oh my God, Steve, is this Connie?” she asks, leaning against his desk.

“No, this is Peña’s girlfriend. She and Connie work together,” he informs her. Her face sours at the word girlfriend.

You tell the woman your name and shake her hand with a smile. “Peña has a girlfriend? My god,” she laughs lightly. Javier walks back down to his desk and the woman’s eyes light up. You stand so he can sit again. “Javier Peña, all settled down.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles and sits, pulling you back onto his lap. You squeal again at the sudden movement, more so for the amusement of the woman in front of you. Laughing, you steady yourself on his desk. “Javi, warm a girl!” You chuckle, turning around to kiss him quickly. You’d discovered recently that you couldn’t get enough of it now that you were allowed to do it.

The woman shakes her head and chuckles as she walks away, heels clacking on the tile floor of the embassy.

Steve rolls her eyes. “Ah, Carolina. Last woman at the embassy Javi hasn’t fucked, and she’s been going after him for months.”

“Bullshit,” you and Javier say at the same time, laughing and turning around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Bullshit to the fact that she’s the last woman here I haven’t fucked. Yeah, she’s been all over me,” he admits and nods.

“Well that’s too damn bad for her, isn’t it?” You laugh and offer Javier your cup of coffee.

He takes a swig and sighs. “Goddamn, this stuff tastes good. The coffee here is shit. We really need to do something about that,” he says to Steve, earning a shrug in response as he forks more food into his mouth.

The three of you eat in content silence, Javier keeping one arm wrapped around you as he eats. Steve flips through a file as he munches on his food too.

A couple of minutes later, a stone-faced bald man in army green fatigues walks. He raises an eyebrow as he sees you sitting on Javier’s lap.

You bite the bullet and introduce yourself first, telling him your name and offering a hand to shake. “Javier’s girlfriend.”

Javier chuckles at the man’s confused expression. “Yeah. Ángel, this is Trujillo. We work closely with him and his men. What else do you need?” He asks the man, turning the chair toward him.

“It can wait, I suppose, until after lunch. Wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Trujillo says before walking off.

Javier shakes his head. “Now I see why the two of you can’t get shit done around here,” you tease and kiss the side of Javi’s head with a smile before taking the last bite of your food.

Not long after, the two men finish eating too. You stand from Javi’s desk. “Walk me out?” You ask him softly, and he nods. “I’ll see you later, Steve. Thanks for the invite,” you chuckle, taking Javier’s hand once you’re both standing.

As you walk through the halls, Javier is smiling. It’s a rare occurrence around the embassy, enough to draw stares. You smile proudly, lacing your fingers together as you walk. “So, Superman. I have a proposal,” you offer, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Shoot.”

“You get off work around six?”

“Sure do.”

“And I don’t work tonight.”

Javier chuckles as he looks down at you. “Where is this going, hm?”

You shrug a little. “All I hear about is how good you are in bed. How good of a lover you are,” you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. “Why don’t you prove it to me tonight, hm?” You ask, fingers tracing the seam where his buttons hold his tight shirt together- just barely.

“Oh god, cariño,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if my body is up to it yet, with the incision and-“

“I’m a nurse, Javi. Your nurse. I know medically that you’re stable by now. As long as it isn’t painful for you, we’re safe,” you tell him with a growing smile. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” You ask in a low voice, your hand sliding across the bare ‘v’ of his chest, exposed by his low-cut shirt.

“Yeah, it has.” Javier licks his lips as he looks down at you, a growing smile. “Your place. Sound good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you admit with an excited grin, placing a kiss to his cheek as you reach the door. “You bring the protection,” you murmur next to his ear before kissing him softly on the lips. You break away and smile at his dazed face. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” You tell him and squeeze his hand.

“Fuck, I love you too, ángel,” Javi smiles and kisses your forehead, opening the door for you. “See you then.”

Six o’clock rolls around. You know Javier won’t come right from work, but you wait excitedly anyway. You treated yourself to a long hot shower, cleaning up and waiting. You’re dressed in a wrap dress and nothing else, waiting on the couch and trying to distract yourself with reruns of a telenovela. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on your counter.

Surprisingly, a knock comes at your door around 6:15. You shout for them to enter and it’s Javier. “I thought you didn’t get off until 6:00,” you smirk a little as you look at him, closing the door behind himself.

“Steve covered for me. I left at 5, went home and showered, changed bandages and everything,” he chuckles, locking the door.

You smile and stand, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How kind of him,” you chuckle softly, an arm around his waist. “Listen, I thought about it. If you’re still in pain, this can totally wait,” you offer, looking up at him with big and concerned eyes.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you, ángel,” he murmurs, putting both hands on your waist. “Nothing could hold me back now.”

You throw your arms around his neck as Javier’s lips crash against yours, in a deep kiss that wastes no time. You make a soft noise of content against his lips and that spurs him on, his hands roaming all across your body. He breaks away, eyes wild and lips swollen already. “How many times have you cum in one night?” He asks, smirking.

You can’t help but moan in response, kissing him again deeply, your mouth exploring his. He breaks away again. “Answer.”

“Uh… three. On my own. Only once with someone else,” you tell him breathlessly, your brain so wrapped up in him that it’s difficult to think about anything other than him.

“Alright, then four’s the goal,” he chuckles, kissing you deeply and pulling your hips against his. His hands grope your ass and you moan softly.

It’s already the best you’ve ever had and he hasn’t even touched you. The passion and love you have for each other is evident in how deep and intense every little movement is, from the way you drag your nails down the back of his neck to the way he smooths his hands over the curve of your ass, feeling no panties beneath the dress. “Fuck,” he murmurs into your lips.

“My bedroom, please,” you whine, breaking away from him.

He nods, glancing in the direction of the hallway that leads to your room. He catches sight of the bottle of whiskey. “What was that for?” He asks, breathlessly chuckling.

“Confidence,” you admit with a laugh. “Don’t know why I thought I needed it. Not with you.”

“Well, it’ll go perfectly with cuddling in your bed after, hm?” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. You sigh softly at the feeling and he walks you along to your bedroom, backwards, until you feel the backs of your legs pressed against your bed. “Let’s see what’s under here,” he mumbles breathlessly, kissing at your neck as he frantically fumbles to untie the knot around your waist that holds the wrap dress in place. He’s clearly experienced at removing all kinds of clothing, and you can feel your arousal starting to slide down to your upper thighs.

“Javi,” you whimper, and he swears he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“Oh fuck, dulzura,” he shudders at the way you sound, lifting his head and catching your lips in another intense kiss as he slips the dress off of your shoulders and it falls to the floor. “No bra, no panties,” he chuckles as he looks down, finding your exposed body. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He mumbles, his lips trailing from behind your ear to your neck to your collarbone to between your breasts.

“Please,” you whimper and Javier pushes you to lie down on the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees and spreading your legs. “Javi,” you mumble, gripping your breasts.

He looks up at you and swears he could cum in his pants right now, just from the way you look spread out for him. You’re already dripping and he bites his lip as he takes a long look at you. “Fuck, ángel,” he says with a shudder, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “Play with your tits for me,” he commands as he slips the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and the large gauze bandage covering part of his equally muscular abdomen.

You nod, though it doesn’t do much at this angle, and he finally gives in. His last bit of self control leaves his body as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into you at the way you taste. You whimper and your hips squirm softly before Javier brings a large hand up, pinning you down. “Javi… go slow, please,” you murmur. “It’s… been a while.”

He nods. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he breathes out, dark eyes even darker with his widened pupils. He’s just as entranced by you as he was by those heavy drugs in the hospital, his mind foggy from the way you taste. His nose nudges at your clit, causing you to make a soft noise. Javier slips a thick finger inside of you, shuddering at the way your walls flutter around it. “God, that’s gonna feel so good around my dick,” he mumbles, slipping in a second finger and lapping at your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, one hand sliding into that dark hair, gripping it. “I lied. You don’t have to go slow, do whatever you want to me,” you shiver and whine out, bucking your hips up only for Javier’s hand to push them back down.

“Patience,” he mumbles, latching onto your most sensitive spot and sucking on it softly. His fingers push in a little deeper and curve against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, wishing you had him to do it. You knew he would, with his reputation. Of course he would. He already feels like he knows every inch of your body, every sensitive little spot he can stroke to drive you wild. You squeal softly at the movement, your back arching. He smirks but continues, not bothering to stop and comment.

You’re already close, and it’s driving you wild, the other hand clutching at the comforter beneath you. “Not gonna last. Feels so good,” you murmur to him, almost ashamed at how quickly he’s going to make you reach your peak.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he mumbles into you, his eyes closing in concentration as his tongue works hard against your clit.

“Thought about this all the time. My fingers couldn’t get anywhere near as deep as yours, Javi,” you coo, brow furrowing. “Just wanted you inside of me, doing this to me. I thought about it every night since I met you,” you whimper. “Nowhere near as good- fuck, I’m about to-” you groan but it’s cut off as your orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake and your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the word tumbles from your mouth over and over again as it washes over you. After you come down, there’s a delicious oversensitivity inside of you. Javier doesn’t let up. “Javi,” you murmur softly.

“Gonna get another out of you, ángel,” he murmurs for a moment before going back with renewed intensity. You thought it was perfect before, but the way he continues now allows you to feel every bud on his tongue, every line in his fingerprints inside of you, the way his fingers move at slightly different speeds as they drag against that spot deep inside of you.

Only a few moments pass before you’re there again, whining out his name as you feel something warm gush from deep within you. It’s all too good, all too much, feels like an electric wire threaded through your limbs and core. “Javi,” you shudder as you finally come to your senses. “I- uh, did I just-” you say, eyes widening as you see the damp spot beneath you.

“You sure fucking did,” he smirks, removing his fingers from inside of you and sucking on the two slick digits.

“I’ve never done that,” you admit, biting your lip.

“It means I’m doing something right,” he chuckles a little, sitting up to kiss you softly, slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you moan as his tongue probes your mouth ever so gently. “It’s all good, baby. Wanna see if I can make you do that again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. “You were promised four.”

You shudder softly, hands on his shoulders. “I was,” you chuckle with the little oxygen left in your lungs. “What do you say…” you trail off, reaching between the two of you and palming at his denim-covered erection, “I take care of you, you get one more out of me, and then we finally fuck, hm?” you ask, recovering your senses.

“How could I say no to that?” he murmurs, kissing you deeply again. You squeeze softly at the bulge, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “How- I, what do-”

“Lie down up there,” you tell him and nod toward the pillows. When you stand, you tear the comforter off of your bed and toss it aside. “We’ll just have to sleep without that tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are staying the night, right?” You ask, suddenly taken aback.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes down his jeans and boxers and his dick springs free. He’s huge, not overly long but very thick, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a smirk. “Oh, you like this?” he chuckles a little, lying down with his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” you laugh softly, already imagining how he’ll feel inside. “Yeah, I do,” you nod and crawl onto the bed, lying down on your stomach between his spread legs.

You slowly trace a stripe along the underside of him, paying special attention to the frenulum and noticing the way his leg jerks beneath you. Adjusting yourself, you make big eyes up at him as you suck on the head, tracing the tip of your tongue against the little spot. “Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming in seconds,” he laughs breathlessly. “You’re fucking amazing, baby,” he mumbles, his eyes slipping shut at the feeling. “Wait, stop, stop.”

You do exactly that, looking up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Yeah?”

Javier takes a deep breath and smirks. “You can make me cum with your mouth another time. I want this to be about you. Get up here and sit on my face.”

The boldness of his words makes your mouth fall open into a soft o-shape. You’ve certainly never done that before, but the idea is interesting. “It’ll be good, I promise. I already made you cum twice with my mouth, you know that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of your face.

“But…” Javier is much more experienced than you, you know that, so it must be fine, but there’s a little nagging insecurity inside of you. “What if I squirt again and, like, drown you?” you ask shyly.

Javier looks at you for a second before laughing softly. “No, it won’t. Come here, I can prove it to you if you’d like,” he offers, pushing a wisp of your hair back. The fact that you’re less experienced makes him even harder, if that’s physically possible, and you can feel it in your hand. He wants to do this, and that reassures you. You gulp and nod. “That’s my good girl,” Javi mumbles darkly.

You shudder at his words, your skin prickling. He can feel it. “Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He scoots to lie flat on his back on the bed. “Come on up here, baby,” he says softly, and you agree.

You straddle his legs and gradually make your way over his body, careful to lift your hips as you pass over the incision. You’re hovering above his chest, looking down at him with the question in your eyes. “What if I like, crush your head?” You murmur and bite your lip.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” he mumbles, stroking your thigh. “Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes,” you nod shyly. You’re not used to being this open about your wants.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, hands on your hips and pulling you gently. Inviting you onto his waiting lips.

You slide your hips the rest of the way and moan as his tongue finds your clit almost immediately. He moans back, entranced by you already. He puts on a bit more of a show, making loud noises and digging his fingers into your ass. He murmurs something into you but it’s lost in your folds as he lavishes your clit with his attention.

“Okay, I like this,” you admit with a breathless chuckle, moaning at the way his tongue works against you, his mustache tickles you, his nose nudges your clit when his tongue is elsewhere. You’re still hyper-sensitive from earlier, and you can tell. Your orgasm approaches rapidly, faster than it has ever before. You fall slightly forward, bracing yourself against the headboard as the tingling sensation builds.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, panting heavily, your hands gripping the headboard tight. He makes a noise of approval and the vibrations from it cause you to let go, practically wailing his name. Your toes curl in pleasure, whimpering as it pulses through your body. It leaks from you before you can notice it, squirting into Javier’s mouth. He swallows every last bit of it, moaning at the way you taste.

Javier’s been so patient with you, putting everything about you first. He continues to eat you out as you come down from it. Eventually, you lift your hips, kneeling with your still-dripping pussy over his face. “You gonna fuck me now?” you ask, barely any air in your voice.

“Oh God yeah,” he chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your clit before pushing you over to lie next to him.

“Javi!” You squeal out with a laugh, falling next to him, his face by your legs. You’re giggling as you look over at him, hands on your bare stomach. “What if I would’ve landed on you and hit the incision?” you chide, though you both know it’s joking.

“It’d be worth it,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee. He stands with a groan, cracking his neck and grabbing the condom from the pocket of his jeans. He opens it and rolls it over his leaking dick, and you smirk as you look at it, adjusting yourself back where he was lying.

“You sure this’ll be okay with the abs?” you ask him as he walks back to your side, your fingers ghosting over the gauze-covered incision.

He nods. “Yeah. You ready?” He asks, a hand cupping your face to look up at him.

“I’m waiting on the fourth,” you tease, giving his dick a gentle tug and earning a groan. “Now get on top of me and fuck me, Superman,” you say with a seductive smile, licking your lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles softly, propping his arms up on either side of you and nestling his hips between your legs. You can feel his dick pressing against your folds, and you grind your hips up into his. He moans, shivering hard. “Oh fuck. You better know it’s not gonna take long,” he tells you. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this for so long. First time I saw those tits bouncing on the treadmill, your ass when you were doing those squats,” he admits, hand running up your side and pinching a nipple as he finally admires your bare body beneath him.

“Get poetic later, get inside me now,” you beg of him, leaning up and kissing him deeply. He paws at a tit and you whine into his lips, harder when he rolls a nipple between two fingers. “Don’t tease,” you plead, spreading your legs wider.

He finally slides in and swears he’s seeing stars from the second the head is past your entrance. He groans out before he can stop himself, and you involuntarily make a matching sound. “Javier,” you cry, the way he stretches you making your already dripping pussy even wetter.

He nods. “Yeah baby,” he mumbles next to your ear.

“Start moving, I’m ready, come on,” you urge, nipping at his earlobe that dangles just above your lips. He shivers at the feeling and nods, pulling out and pushing back in. The first thrust and he’s already holding back.

He moans your name quietly, starting a slow but steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you. He looks down and bites his lip as he sees the way your tits jiggle with his thrusts. “Oh, ángel,” he groans. You bend up and kiss at his neck, daring to work a mark into the skin. “Yeah, that’s my girl, marking me up. Want that girl at the embassy to see it when I’m at work tomorrow, don’t you?” he grunts, breathing heavily already.

“All mine, no one else’s.”

“All yours, baby,” he nods, thrusting harder. “Give ‘em something to talk about, mark me up,” he groans, his eyes almost rolling back in his head from the feeling. You nod, leaving love bites and hickeys all over the smooth skin of his neck, the skin that smells like aftershave and soap and cigarettes and his sweat.

He reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs circles into your clit in time with the thrusts. “Oh, fuck do I love you, baby,” he groans. “You gonna come again?”

You’re embarrassingly close already, and the fact that he can tell is even hotter. “Yeah,” you whine into the thick column of his neck.

“Good girl, gonna squirt around me?”

“Yeah,” you whimper again, hips grinding against his hand. “Love you so much, Javi.”

“Love you too. Go for it, baby. Do it,” he asks of you, and who are you to deny him of the sensation in the moment? You stop holding back, your walls fluttering around him and your pussy leaking as your whole body tenses.

“Javi,” you cry into his ear, clinging to the back of his head and pulling him down to where you’re now lying flat, limp as a rag doll from his ministrations.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in his gravelly voice, biting down on his lip. “So good, fuck, love you baby,” he grunts in time with sporadic thrusts as he finally spills into the condom, an animalistic cry coming from his throat.

His thrusts slow and he gradually pulls out of you, lying down and pulling you into his side. “Would you believe me if I said that’s the best I’ve ever had?” He pants out, kissing the side of your head.

You drape an arm across him. “It’d be an honor,” you chuckle softly.

“It was,” he tells you honestly, this time kissing your lips. “God, I fucking love you,” he tells you with a dazed smile, eyes slipping shut.

He’s so sexy like this, sweat beaded on his forehead and dark hair stuck to it. He’s fucking beautiful is what he is, like a work of art with those swollen lips and the developing bruises on his neck. He’s your personal masterpiece. You’ve done all of those things to him, made him fill that condom, hell, you put those stitches in yourself before he left the hospital. He’s fully and truly yours. “I love you too, Javi,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a smile as your eyes water.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks quickly as his eyes open.

“I just love you so much,” you admit with a watery voice. “That was the best I’ve ever felt, and you let me ask stupid questions, and you did this all even though I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms a couple of weeks ago.” You bury your face where his chest meets his arm, the tears freely running.

“Ángel,” he coos and kisses your head. “You are the entire world, you know that? You saved my fucking life, not just from the shrapnel. I would’ve drank and smoked and worked myself to death if you didn’t come in.”

“And I would’ve died from that cold,” you add with a weak giggle.

“And you would’ve died from that cold,” he chuckles and lifts your head. “I love you so much. No solo como te quiero, como te amo.”

There’s a difference in the way Spanish speakers say “I love you” that native English speakers cannot understand. We say I love you to our dogs, to our partners, to our sisters and parents and to our lovers and spouses. It’s all the same way to say it: I love you. In Spanish, there is te quiero and te amo. Javier might say te quiero to his father, to Connie when she brings him food during a rough hangover. Never in his life has the man said te amo and meant it. Not to Lorraine, not to any girl he ever held in his arms as he pounded her senseless. Never, except to you.

And you can feel it in the way he presses a tender kiss to your face, in the way a tear drips from his eye and onto your forehead. He loves you in the way that inspired the greatest artists to write sonnets and plays and make beautiful art, the way that Escobar would do anything, would kill for his beloved Tata, the way Romeo and Juliet loved and fell hard and didn’t care about the repercussions and died for love of each other.

“Javi,” you coo, looking into his big brown eyes that are brimming with tears. “Te amo también, te amo, y nunca lo olvides.”

thanks for reading!

translations:

quiubo- what’s happening, what’s up

Chiquita- girl, girlfriend

dulzura- sweetheart

Y nunca lo olvides- and don’t you ever forget it.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @apascalrascal @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging @pedro-pastel @notabotiswear @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #narcos fanfic #narcos #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic

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tinyjeanmarco · 4 years

Note

omg friends to lovers modern au with porco ?? soft porco just gets me in my Feels™

two idiots

note: woof woof. you know just the kind of softness i love 😩🤚 coming right up, darling! this turned out to be one of my favorite things i’ve written. i hope you all enjoy!! here’s some modern friends to lovers with porco x gn!reader!

wc: 2,154

modern!porco x gn!reader

warnings: language, porco being a dork.

porco had been your best friend ever since he adopted you in his social circle in high school. your “friends” at the time were pretty shitty and he convinced you to drop them and join his friend group instead. best decision ever because now you had actual friends who lasted beyond school as well as not feeling like shit 24/7 anymore.

you’ve been friends for what felt like forever, and you even got a job at the same little café. currently, you two had the closing shift. that just spells chaos with porco’s silly antics he always pulls. it was a surprise he hasn’t gotten you two fired yet.

so now, with the “open” sign flipped to “closed,” porco takes it upon himself to fuck around and give himself a whipped cream mustache. which is very irresponsible because you could get in so much trouble if the higher ups find out.

you did nothing to stop him, just laughing to the point you were afraid your lungs would give out from the force of your laughter.

“porco, you’ve got to stop doing that, that’s so unsanitary. plus we have twenty minutes to finish and lock up.” you giggled, making your way over to the sink where all the dishes were waiting to be cleaned.

“can’t be fired if we’re not caught,” he sent a playful wink to you “and it’s fun to make you laugh all the time.” you just rolled your eyes at him.

“you’re absolutely no help, you bafoon. go mop the floors or something.”

“fine, mom. whatever you say.” he groaned and licked the whipped cream off his face. however, on his way to grab the mop, he made sure to splash you with the water running from the faucet.

“you dick! you’ll pay for this!” you shout as you cup your hands under the water, gathering as much as you could, before flinging it in his direction.

“see? there you go. now you’re having fun!” he cackled.

“you’re cleaning that up, dipshit.” he nodded frantically, giving you a salute.

“of course, mom. planned on it.” you couldn’t hold back your laugh after seeing the serious look on his face. you smacked him on the arm.

“stop calling me mom, it’s weird.” with a roll of your eyes, you got back to cleaning the dishes, set on getting out of work on time. you knew messing around wouldn’t exactly get you guys in trouble, but if you didn’t clock out and close up in time, you would be reprimanded.

“i would never stop saying something that makes you so annoyed, so no, mom.” he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he went about cleaning the floors. you decided to refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your response, instead focusing on your work.

of course, the peaceful silence would only last so long as porco decided to fill it with his idiotic chatter.

“hey, (y/n), do you remember senior year when zeke made you laugh so hard that you pissed yourself? that’s what this is reminding me of.” his boisterous laugh bounced around all the walls of the small building as your face flushed.

“you said you would never bring that up again! we agreed on that. how would you like if i brought up you pissing the bed when you were a sophomore in high school? you were like fifteen or sixteen and you still peed the bed.” now it was your turn to laugh at him.

“uncool! that was a one time thing! and i chugged a whole bottle of water before bed, okay? not my fault.” now it was his turn to go completely red in the face, the tips of his ears also tinted red. you mocked him, repeating his last sentence under your breath in a dumb voice.

he scoffed at you and then everything was silent again, minus the running water and clanking of dishes. your thoughts kind of took over as you mindlessly worked. you two had been friends for what feels like half of your life, and for a majority of that time, you had a crush on him as well. you still do.

whenever you guys had free time, you would spend it together, as best friends do. there was no doubt that you would catch feelings eventually. sometimes you wish you could do something about it, but you’re content just being his best friend instead of ruining what you have to take a chance on a relationship that probably wouldn’t happen.

porco just had this dorky, boyish charm to him that drew you in immediately. it seemed to attract all kinds of others, too, because he had numerous partners growing up. his relationships never lasted too long though, earning him the title of “heartbreaker.” another reason you didn’t wanna try your luck. you didn’t know if he would break up with you after a month of being together.

being totally absorbed by your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed porco trying to get your attention.

“hellooo? earth to (y/n)?” he waved a hand in front of your face. you startled and ended up splashing water on both of you.

“huh? sorry, i spaced out.” you said sheepishly, turning off the running water. you had finished your task and noticed porco had as well.

“i’ve finished mopping and wiping tables down and shit. you wanna clock out if that’s all?”

“oh, uh, yeah. i think we’ve already gotten to everything. i already sorted out everything in the back so we should be okay. lemme finish up here.” you made sure the sink was cleaned up and porco got to putting the rest of the cleaning supplies away, and worked on shutting the lights off. you snagged your bag from the back and met up with him by the door.

“you need a ride home?” he inquired as you locked the doors and headed out. that got you to stop, remembering that the last bus was around an hour ago, so that left you with walking home as your only option. luckily for you though, porco was always paying attention to your habits, knowing that you wouldn’t have a way home.

“yeah, actually, that would be great. i’m too tired to walk home tonight.” you smiled at him appreciatively, earning a smile back. climbing into his car, you stole the aux cord immediately. you always got control of the tunes when he was driving you somewhere.

you both got to making idle prattle as you scrolled through your playlists to find something to play. you settled on one of your favorite songs, humming along here and there as he drove.

as you neared your apartment, he turned down the music to a low volume and spoke up.

“so, i’ve wanted to talk to you about something for a while and i feel like now is a good a time as any.” you gave an agreeing ‘hm,’ prompting him to continue.

“i uh, think you’re really cool and all, and i’ve kind of sort of had a crush on you since high school which i know is like a long time or whatever, but i got tired of just keeping it to myself for so long and i just wanted to tell you.” you were shocked to say the least. your heart rate picked up, filled with hope and anticipation.

he pulled into your apartment complex and put the car in park before turning to you and continuing to speak.

“i don’t expect it to go anywhere, you don’t even have to feel the same but, i just wanted to kinda lay out my feelings, maybe see if you feel the same?” he phrased it as more of a question. when he began speaking, he was pretty confident, but that slowly wore down the more he said until it was just his nerves left. insecurities rubbing together and creating a spark.

“of course, you don’t have to feel the same. that would be silly to expect that from you. we’re best friends and we always have been. actually, the more i think, that was really stupid to say because you like see me as a brother and stuff and like incest is gross so honestly you ca-” you had to cut him off, as cute as his rambling was, you didn’t want him to start overthinking. a sad porco is a not fun porco.

“shut up and kiss me, dumbass.” you shot out before your nerves got to you.

“-n ignore- what?” he looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to say anything like that. hey, same porco.

“i said kiss me, or i’ll kiss you first, then how would you feel? you’re the one confessing to me.” and the confidence you have just keeps building up. you honestly had no idea what was getting into you anymore, but knowing that your long time crush has liked you back for around the same amount of time you liked him? score.

“oh, yeah i’ll kiss you.” and with that, he leaned over the console and crashed your lips together. your heart was dancing in your chest, crashing into your ribs. you almost worried that he could hear it, but you got lost in the kiss, forgetting and not bothering to care.

his hands came up to cradle your jaw, pulling your face impossibly closer to him as he kissed you even deeper than before. you pulled away, deciding to give him more of a response than telling him to just kiss you.

“i’ve liked you just as long, pock. i never thought you would ever feel the same, i mean, you always dated so many people and stuff so i just assumed that you weren’t interested in me.” you confessed, flushing slightly.

“yeah, but, you know how long each of those lasted. it was because of you. they took up time i wanted to spend with you and i only really wanted you. i was just trying to get over my feelings. i never knew i could have this with you.” he began stroking your cheek with one of his thumbs, the other hand searching for yours to interlock your fingers together.

“i guess this car just has two idiots looking into each other’s eyes then, huh?” you laughed, leaning into his hand on your face. “i never thought i could have this with you, either.”

“yeah, i guess we are kind of dumb, then.” he went in for another kiss, giving it his all before pulling away again. “can i take you out? we work the same shifts usually so we’ll have a day off together soon.”

“yeah, i think i’d like that a lot.” you couldn’t help yourself, you had to kiss him again. now that you could do that, you don’t think you’ll stop anytime soon. you just felt so right when you kissed him, the entire world fell away leaving the two of you melded together, just sharing how much you felt for the other.

pulling away from the kiss, porco pulled you into a crushing hug. he didn’t want to let you go, but realized he probably should. you’d been sitting in his car for a few minutes and he knew you needed your rest. it had been a long day.

“okay, now get out of my car please.” he smiled at you lovingly.

“so sweet, so romantic, my little pock.” he groaned but let out a snort soon after.

“ugh, you ruined the moment.” he rolled his eyes and you stared at him, bewildered.

“me? you’re the one kicking me out of your car.” he laughed at this.

“only because i know you’ll complain if you don’t get enough sleep. i’ll see you at work tomorrow though, babe, don’t worry,” he paused for a second, “i can call you that, right?”

“yeah, and you better keep calling me that or i’ll tell everyone at work about your whipped cream escapades.” he gasped, mocking offense.

“you wouldn’t dare.” his eyes narrowed at you. you let out a loud laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“oh, i would. try me.” he rolled his eyes and gave you a kiss on your nose.

“yeah, yeah, i believe you. but you really should get going. i promise i’ll keep calling you babe, and that i’ll see you tomorrow. babe.” you smiled and reached out to give his hand a squeeze.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow. bye, pock.” and with that you made your way out of his car, giving him a wave and blowing him a kiss before you turned to head inside. he pretended to grab your kiss and pressed it to his lips before waving back.

you giggled to yourself giddily as you walked into the building, not believing the events that unfolded today, or happy they made you. yeah, today was a good day.

#porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #porco #porco galliard #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #aot x reader #snk #aot #attack on titan x reader

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

Text

Flat Tire: Suna x fem reader

SMUT 🔥🔥

This is technically a part 3 of First time in College: Suna x reader, but I decided to make it a stand alone. You can read the other parts if you’re interested. Also, I left the ending kind of open, so I would be super happy to continue it if anyone wants me to...

P.S. I feel like it’s rare to have someone look this fine when it’s NOT EVEN FANART BRUHHHH

Suna was late to pick you up for your “date” (was it a date? He hadn’t made it particularly clear), which wasn’t a good sign. You had spent the hours after your class at 3 pacing around, trying to figure out what outfit to wear, and questioning your whole existence. Your roommate, Kiyoko, didn’t make things any better. When you had explained how you had met Suna at the frat party, how sweet he had seemed, her mouth had dropped and her eye practically popped out of her head.

“Out of every guy you could have picked, you chose Suna Rintarou?” She sighed, burying her face in her hands.

“What? Is he...bad?” You asked, suddenly nervous. You liked Suna, from the amount you knew about him. He seemed like he was pretty arrogant, and also kind of lazy, but he was nice to talk to. You knew you’d be disappointed if he ended up being a piece of shit.

“He’s just...you know…” Kiyoko was clearly trying to find a way to phrase it. “He’s ditched a lot of different girls, sleeping around and then never speaking to them again, that sort of thing. Typical frat boy behavior.”

You sighed, since it was exactly what you expected. “Well, it’s fine. We’re just going to eat, so I’ll just get it over with and then be out of his life.”

“Ok. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You waved her off. “I know, I know. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, six o’clock came and went, and no sign of Suna; suddenly, despite my dismissal, “getting hurt” seemed like a distinct possibility. By 6:30, you ditched your shoes and coat, crashing on your bed and starting the newest episode of Attack on Titan. Fuck Suna and his dumb pretty face. You were good with Levi.

Halfway through the episode, there was a knock at your door, and your muscles tensed so suddenly that your neck twinged.

“Uh, who is it?” You yelled as you rolled out of bed, stumbling to the door.

“Su--” You opened it and blinked up at the guy outside in shock. “--na.”

“Oh.” You raised your eyebrows. He was wearing black pants and a black crewneck, a white collared shirt underneath.

“Hi,” he panted, completely out of breath. “Sorry.”

You snorted. “Um. It’s late.”

“I got lost.”

“Did you now?”

“And I had to go back home to change.”

“You could have texted me!”

“...I don’t have your number.”

You opened your mouth, but you had nothing to say to that. “Well, fuck,” you muttered, turning away.

“Sorry. You’ll still come to eat though, right?”

You wanted to curse him out for making you wait so long, for making you think he ditched you for the night and forgot.

“Fine. But you’re a dick.”

He grinned lazily, leaning in the door frame as you grabbed your shoes and jacket again, scooping up your purse as you exited your dorm.

“What?” You said as you finally approached him, blushing as you met his eyes despite how hard you tried not to.

“Nothing.”

He led the way to his car in silence, and it was a strange mix of awkward and comfortable. Suna didn’t seem like the type to be super talkative, but at the same time you felt like you should be making conversation.

When you got to his car, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down before sliding into the passenger seat. Of course, the whole car smelled like weed, but it wasn’t overwhelming and honestly kind of nice.

“So, you’re a freshman?” He asked, pulling out of the lot, and you nodded.

“Are you?”

“Sophomore.”

“What’s your major?”

“Undecided, but I enjoy photography. Not the best career path though…”

“Wait, that's really cool.” You glanced at him, impressed. “What do you take pictures of?”

“Anything, but people mostly.”

“You’ll have to show me some time.”

“Only if you forgive me for being late.”

You crossed your arms, snorting. “Fine.”

The car suddenly jerked, and you gasped as you heard a rush of air coming from the rear.

“Oh...fuck,” Suna muttered, pulling off to the side of the road. “I think we just got a flat tire.”

“How????”

“How am I supposed to know?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“Hang on, I might be able to…” He hopped out of the car before finishing, and you sat in silence as you heard him walking around to examine the damage. A moment later, he re-entered the driver's side with an annoyed expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s flat. Shit.”

“What are we going to do?”

“My friend has a spare tire, but it might take him a bit to get here. Are you ok with waiting?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“Sorry, this is the worst night ever.”

“It’s not your fault. We can just hang out until your friend gets here.”

Suna’s expression didn’t change, but you thought you saw his shoulders relax a little. In the darkness of the car, you couldn’t help but admire his profile as he turned off the car and shoved his hair back from his face.

“What?” He said, turning to look at you, and you went beat red.

“Huh?”

“You’re looking at me.”

“N-no.”

“Really?” He smirked, leaning towards you slightly.

Your heart stuttered, practically stopping at you stared into his pretty yellow eyes. Oh my god...

“I--”

Before you could answer, Suna sat back, still smirking. A car drove past you on the dark street and you used the momentary distraction to try and get ahold of yourself.

“So, what do you want to do?” Suna asked, and you looked over at him again.

“You say that like we have another option besides just sitting here.”

He shrugged, pulling a THC pen from his pocket and holding it out to you. You took it from him, hitting it twice before handing it back.

“What’s your major?” He asked, holding the pen to his lips.

“Political economics right now, but I’m considering switching to english since I like writing.”

“What do you write?”

“All kinds of things, although mostly short stories. I’ve been working on my second novel too, and the first draft is almost done. It’s really shitty right now, but hopefully once I go back and edit it…”

You paused, suddenly embarrassed. Were you rambling? You could talk about writing all day, but most people didn’t care enough to keep listening beyond the first sentence.

“Yeah?” Suna said, waiting for you to finish.

“Oh. That was it.” You glanced away, waiting for a subject change.

“What’s your novel about?” He paused, laughing under his breath. “I can’t believe you wrote a fucking book. That’s so sick.”

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your face, and you covered your mouth with your hand. “Ok, short version--”

“Short version? Why? We’ve got plenty of time.”

You opened your mouth, and then paused. No one actually ever asked to hear about your writing beyond just the basic formalities, and you couldn’t believe how happy it made you feel that someone seemed genuinely interested.

Deciding to abandon all pretenses, you jumped into a long scale explanation of the plot you were writing, all while Suna watched your face intently.

“...And yeah! That’s basically it,” you finished finally, smiling brightly at him. “Sorry if that was super boring, I didn’t mean to…”

“Can I read it when you finish? I’m invested.” He took another hit off the pen while watching you, and you smiled to yourself. How was this boy saying all the right things? Fuck.

“I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“Depends on my mood.”

“What can I do to guarantee you’ll let me read?” He reached over to grab your chin, stroking your cheeks gently with his thumb, and your breathing hitched. “Ha, you’re cute when you’re all red like this.”

You snorted, but didn’t pull away. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“Really?” He leaned closer to you, until your faces were only inches apart in the darkness.

“N-no.” Your heart thundered.

“Hm,” He murmured. “I’ll have to try to change that.”

And then he was pressing your body back into the seat and kissing you hard on the mouth.

Oh my god, it was heaven. He tasted like minty chapstick and weed, and you sighed, your mind going blank.

His long fingers tangled in your hair, dragging you closer, and a low noise came from his chest as you opened your mouth. You pulled away after a long minute, gasping, which only prompted Suna to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck.

You leaned your head back to give him easier access, letting out an embarrassing noise as his hand slid under your shirt to trace the skin of your stomach.

You weren’t a virgin, but you had only had sex with one person--your previous boyfriend--and it had been less than satisfactory the few times you had done it. Apparently you had missed the physical contact more than you thought.

You sat up, and Suna pulled away, his eyes a little glazed over and his hair messed up. God damn, he was fine.

He smiled slowly as your eyes trailed down his chest to his crotch, and he slid his seat all the way back so there was enough room for you to crawl into his lap.

It was awkward, and you slammed your head on the roof of the car hard enough to make you yelp in pain as you tried to maneuver over to him. But any embarrassment you might have felt washed away as he burst out laughing and kissed you gently on the mouth.

You tugged at his shirt in annoyance, suddenly pissed that it was still in place, and he awkwardly pulled over his head.

“Pushy,” he muttered, and you flicked him hard on the forehead.

“Dick.”

“No need to beg, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon.”

You swallowed hard and your thighs clenched in anticipation, even as you rolled your eyes.

Any annoyance you had flew from your head as he slipped a hand down your pants, the other coming up to tangle in your hair. Instead of touching you where you needed him to, he traced along your inner thighs, kissing your collarbone.

“Suna,” you mumbled, suddenly impatient as you shifted your hips, and he grinned into your skin before you felt his fingers shove the thin fabric of your underwear aside.

“Oh go--” Your eyes rolled back as he slowly eased a digit into you, wiggling it as he slowly widened you up.

“S-Shit,” you gasped, your hands grasping at his shirt as he added another finger, circling his thumb at the same time on your clit.

“You’re already so fucking wet,” Suna grunted, kissing up your neck as you began to roll your hips, riding his hand.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, but he grinned wickedly and immediately pulled his hand from your pants. Your eyes widened in outrage, but you stopped when he held up his fingers, covered in your juices, and shoved them in his mouth. You almost came from the sight, clenching around nothing as your heart stuttered.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he mumbled, and you felt his dick twitch beneath you. It was hard as a rock in his pants, and you could feel it straining against the fabric. It was pretty big, if the bulge was evidence enough.

You quickly fumbled to get his zipper open, needing to have him inside you right now. His fingers were good, but you needed...

Suna smacked your hands away. “Take off your pants,” he ordered, and you obliged, choosing to ignore how hot you got at his commanding tone. You could unpack that later.

It was a struggle to get the fabric off in the small space, but finally you were back in his lap, and he was holding your hips, and his (long) cock was free of his pants. You reached down, stroking it slowly and rubbing your thumb gently across the tip, spreading the precum that had gathered already.

“Jesus christ,” Suna said, his voice strained, and he twitched in your hand.

“Jesus wouldn’t appreciate his name being used in this context.”

“He’d be jealous of me right now.”

“You’re definitely going to hell for that.”

“And you’re not? You little slut.” Suna shoved his fingers in your mouth while his other hand fumbled with a condom which he tugged from his pocket. He slid it down over his length with expert speed, clearly having done this many times before, but you shoved the thought from your mind.

Suna held your hips tightly as you positioned yourself over him, helping you as you eased yourself down onto his dick. He was larger than your last boyfriend, and it burned for a moment as you adjusted to his size, but Suna held your face and stroked your hair as you breathed through it. “You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” he groaned in your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

His praise made you clench around him, the pain easing away, and you rolled your hips experimentally. The friction on your clit and almost made you cum right away, and you let out a moan into his neck as your head dropped onto his shoulder. Holy motherfucking shit how did it feel so good...

Suna buried his face in your chest as you began to ride him, shifting your hips slowly as you felt his full length hitting points you didn’t even know existed. When he ran his tongue along your nipple, you let out an embarrassing noise and fucked him faster.

Your legs began to burn, but Suna took over easily, thrusting up into you while you held onto his shoulders. Your moans and the sound of sex filled the car, and your hand slid across the fogged glass of the window as you grasped for anything to hold onto. You were so close to coming, you could feel it all the way down to your toes.

“You’re doing so good, baby, you feel so good,” Suna groaned, reaching down to rub your clit, his tongue circling your nipple at the same time, and with his voice in your ear, it was enough to finally send you over the edge. You clenched around him, your mouth opening in a silent scream as you came hard all over his cock. It was easily the best orgasm you’d had during sex, possibly the best ever. Suna didn’t take his eyes off you as you came apart, relishing in how it was him who put that expression on your face, and how only he was seeing you like this right now.

“And you said flattery doesn’t work on you,” Suna laughed, but you couldn’t even make yourself glare at him.

“Idiot.”

You panted as you came down from your high, but Suna still wasn’t finished. You could tell he was getting close by the way his pace picked up and how he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust up into you. His groans were deep and sexy in your ear, making your overstimulated clit throb as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

“F-fuckkkk…” He panted, kissing you again and shoving his tongue in your mouth. He held onto your hair, tangled around his fist, forcing you to lean your head back as he created hickies all along your throat.

He finally came with a groan, his cock twitching as he held onto you tightly, head falling on your shoulder. You both stilled, panting, and you couldn’t help the slow smile that tugged at your lips. For a moment you were too tired to move as you felt his dick soften inside you, so you gently stroked his hair instead.

“Are you ok?” He murmured, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a wreck, but you were sure you didn’t look much better.

“I’m great,” you said, smiling. “Are you?”

Suna blinked, looking dazed for a moment, but he nodded.

You shifted, trying to get off his lap in the most graceful way possible, but your back slammed against the wheel and the car honked loudly.

“Jesus!” You cursed, flinching, and Suna rolled his eyes.

“You just woke the whole neighborhood.”

“Ugh,” you glared at him as you pulled on your pants, readjusting your shirt to cover your chest once again.

The car suddenly lit up as headlights pulled up behind you, and you whirled to face Suna.

“Is that your friend? Wait, where’s your shirt?!”

He wasn’t listening, casually tugging it over his head as he opened the driver’s side door. You heard a door slam from behind you, and then a guy with grey hair and dark tips leaned down to wave at you from Suna’s side.

“Hi. Sorry it took so long, but I have the tire.”

“Thanks,” Suna nodded, and then gestured to you. “Kita, this is Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is my friend Kita Shinsuke.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you said, but you felt your stomach drop as Kita’s eyes went to the fogged windows, where your hand print was still visible.

“Yeah…” He raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you too.”

Suna crossed his arms, looking bored. “Wanna help me change the tire?”

The two boys left you alone as they went to swap out the flat, and you worked on trying to get your face to stop burning. By the time Suna finally got back, you felt decently less embarrassed; he probably did this all the time, so for Kita, it was definitely nothing new. He probably wouldn’t even remember your name.

“Hey,” you looked over at Suna in surprise as he slid back into the driver’s seat and gently grabbed your face, kissing you slowly.

“What was that for?” You sighed when he pulled away.

He shrugged, smirking. “Are you still hungry?”

Part 1

Part 2

#holy shit i love him #ive never blushed harder than while writing this #mad butterflies omg #smut #suna #haikyuu suna #suna x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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unholyobsessions · 4 years

Text

Welcome to my dorm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: eight year age difference. Mentions of kidnapping

Description: the FBI question you about your friend’s disappearance and you can’t help feeling for a certain doctor. (Inspired by scene above)

Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 There was heavy knocking on your door. You rolled over, burying your face deeper in the pillow. “Y/n l/n this is the FBI open up!” You let out a groan followed by a dry laugh. “Real funny Danny now let me sleep,” you yelled loud enough for who you assumed was your friend Danny to hear. The knocking continued, pissing you off. You let out a huff reaching over to your nightstand to put on your glasses and climbed out of your bed. “Damn it Daniel seriously if you don’t knock it off I swe-“ you opened the door and the words died in your throat.

Two very attractive men were standing in front of you holding FBI badges up. You saw them eye you up and down which prompted you to look down at yourself. You felt heat rush to your face as you took in the loose booty shorts and bralette you were wearing. Both men put their badges away and stood awkwardly at the door. You snapped out of your embarrassed daze and cleared your throat. “I am not wearing the appropriate clothes for this. Come in.” You stepped out of the way and headed to your closet to grab a random sweatshirt, pulling it over your head. Once you were no longer exposed you turned to face the agents that were now letting their gazes wonder around your dorm room. You found yourself thanking past you for taking the time to clean it two days ago. When they realized that you were now fully dressed the dark skinned man spoke. “We are sorry to bother you this early, I’m Agent Derek Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid and we need to ask you some questions.” The man who you now identified as Agent Morgan gestured to the tall curly haired man next to him. You smiled gently at both of them before pointing to the two chairs by the desk. “Questions regarding what, Agents?” You asked them as they sat down. “The disappearance of Haley Bowen. She went to school here.” This time it was Dr. Reid that spoke. Your eyes widened, you knew her. “Oh my God okay.” You took a deep breath, your brain not really knowing how to react. “Umm do you guys want coffee? I can’t really function without caffeine in the morning so I’m just going to make a pot.” You changed the subject quickly. Your friend was missing and the agents needed your help. You cannot break down. “No thank you.” Agent Morgan answered at the same time as Dr. Reid said, “Yes please.” You sent him a smile and started preparing the coffee. Morgan gave Reid a look and he shrugged as if to say ‘hey, coffee is coffee.’ “How do you take your coffee? Personally I take mine with too much sugar and too much creamer because I don’t really enjoy the taste of coffee but I’m still kind of addicted to it. Which my friends say makes me insane but I actually think it’s pretty normal. The taste is too bitter, reminds me of dark chocolate,” you stopped yourself. “Sorry I’m rambling I tend to do that in uncomfortable situations.” You looked at Dr. Reid expectantly and it took him a second to realize that you were waiting for his answer. “Oh uh three teaspoons.” He gave a small nod at the sugar in your hand. You smiled widely at him, seemingly glad that you were not the only one to enjoy overly sweet coffee. She’s cute, Spencer found himself thinking. After stirring sugar into both cups you walked over to the agents and handed one of the cups to Dr. Reid. Seeing as there were no more available chairs, you hopped on your desk and sat criss cross facing them. “So why are you asking me about Haley?” You took a long sip of your coffee. “She was last seen at the bar you work at.” Agent Morgan spoke but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off Dr. Reid. He’s cute, you thought. “So she disappeared on Saturday?” You let out a sigh. “You remember seeing her?” This time Reid spoke making direct eye contact with you. You nodded. “She was a regular so we became friends over time. She comes in every weekend to blow off steam. She’s double majoring so she has a lot on her plate. She sits at the bar. Same place every time so I’m always her bartender.” Both Agents nodded at the information given, internally relieved that this interview could result in a lead in the case. “Did you notice anything different about her that night? Anybody that tried to approach her or payed more attention to her?” Dr. Reid asked you. “Well she seemed nervous. She talks to me a lot, rants about her professors and stuff like that. She didn’t talk much on Saturday and she seemed restless. Fidgeting in her seat and playing with the rings on her fingers. I just assumed she was meeting a guy and that’s why she was nervous. I pay attention to her, she gets drunk often and all of the workers like to make sure that nobody too drunk walks home alone or leaves with someone they are uncomfortable with. Whenever she was uncomfortable with a guy trying to make a move on her she played with her rings. That’s when I knew to intervene.” You took a deep breath and a gulp of your coffee, burning your tongue in the process. You felt tears pooling in your eyes and you did your best to blink them away. “Did you see a guy approach her that night?” Again it was Dr. Reid who asked the question, his voice softer this time. You hesitated before answering trying your hardest to remember. “There was this one guy,” you paused, letting your mind wander back to Saturday night. “He wasn’t drunk like most people there. He talked to her while he waited for me to serve him his drink. He got a coke which was strange for someone who was clearly sober to order. I recognized his face but couldn’t place a name. I turned around to serve another group and when I turned back the guy was walking away and Haley was asking for her check. She wasn’t drunk, barely tipsy so I didn’t insist on calling her a cab. Damn it why didn’t I call her a cab?” You couldn’t stop the tears anymore. This was your fault, you should have made sure she got home safely, you should have called her at least. She was your friend and now she could be dead and it will be your fault. Sobs racked your body, your half empty coffee cup slipping from your fingers and shattering on the floor, the sound only making you cry harder. Morgan instinctively reached for your hand the words of comfort ready to be spoken. He was stopped when Reid leaned toward you and grabbed your hand away from your face. He gave it a small tug to make you look at him. He didn’t know what came over him at that moment. He didn’t shake hands and didn’t really touch people but all he knew was that he wanted you to stop crying and he never wanted to see you sad again. “Hey it’s not your fault.” His voice was soft but firm. “There was no way for you to know what would happen and you had no way to stop it. What you told us right now is extremely helpful and will help us bring Haley back home. Okay?” You gave a small nod of your head trying to calm yourself down. “It’s okay just breath with me.” Dr. Reid took a deep breath and you mimicked him continuing until your breathing was back to normal and only a few stray tears were running down your cheeks. “Thank you.” You sniffled and smiled shyly at him. “Would you mind coming down to the station later and giving a description of the man you saw with Haley to a sketch artist?” Dr. Reid looked you in the eyes, his deep look telling you that although it was phrased as a question it was really the only choice you had. “Yeah that’s okay.” You wanted to reach up and rub at your runny nose but you noticed that he was still holding your hand. He felt the slight movement and realized as well. The both of you blushed and averted eye contact while Agent Morgan looked at the two of you with an amused expression. Both Agents stood up signaling that they were prepared to leave. You lead them to the door and they both thanked you for your time. Before you closed the door Dr. Reid handed you his card telling you to call him if you remember anything else that might seem important. You nodded at him, not trusting your voice. You gave him a wide smile which contrasted with your red teary eyes but he still felt the breath being knocked out of him. After the door closed Morgan looked at Reid. “What was that?” Spencer played dumb and started down the dormitory hallway. “What was what?” He pushed the door to the stairs open and looked back at Morgan. “What do you mean ‘what was what’ you were totally into that girl.” Morgan grinned at him and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer started down the stairs, making a point to ignore Morgan’s laughter. • • • A few hours later you had taken a shower and put your contacts on. You put on a light face of make up and decided that this time when you met the agents you would be fully clothed so you put on a pair of jeans and a white tank top with a loose button up over it. You slipped on a pair of converse and headed to the police station. You walked up to the front desk and smiled lightly at the woman sitting behind it. “Hi I’m looking for Dr. Reid he told me I was coming in for a sketch.” The woman nodded and gestured someone over. You waited patiently as the two had a conversation and eventually Dr. Reid came into view. You smiled at him and it grew when he gave you a grin back. He guided you through the police station with a hand placed firmly on your back his hand pressing harder when one of the men in the holding cell wolf whistled at you. He brought you to a room where a sketch artist was sitting there waiting. “Here you go.” He mumbled under his breath. “Thank you.” You sat down as Reid left the room. You talked to the sketch artist for about 45 minutes trying to give as much detail as possible. You looked at your watch and noticed your afternoon shift at the bar was starting soon. You quickly thanked the artist and made a quick exit in hopes of not being late. You speed walked all the way to the bar and got there just in time to see the morning bartender ready to leave his shift. He sent you a tight lipped smile as you settled yourself behind the bar. The place was empty except for the man sitting at the bar who looked to be nursing a glass of whiskey. A few minutes later you heard the door ring signaling someone coming in. “Be right with you,” you called as you refilled the man’s glass. He was mumbling something about a cheating girlfriend which made you wince slightly. People dealing with heartbreak at a bar never ended well. You turned around to greet the costumer who had just taken a seat at the bar. Your eyes widened in surprise when you saw Dr. Reid sitting there with a sheepish smile on his beautiful face. “Dr. Reid what can I do for you?” He looked down for a second before making eye contact. He’s nervous, you thought. “I just needed to clear my head for a bit and I wanted to take a look at the scene and try to get a sense of what happened that night.” You nodded your head before giving him your signature smile. “Well can I get you something? I’m not going to offer anything alcoholic since you are still on the job but I do make a mean Arnold palmer.” You sent him a subtle wink, reaching under the bar for a glass. He snorted before accepting your offer. Setting the prepared drink in front of him, you spared a glance at the sulking man to find him slumped in his seat with light snores leaving his mouth. Damn, you thought, this is going to be a slow shift. You turned your attention back to the Dr. who was looking at you with a quirked brow having noticed the frown on your face. You quickly explained how you hated afternoon shifts because they usually consisted of you being bored out of your mind dealing with day drinkers. He struck up conversation to “relieve some of your boredom” as he so kindly put it. Conversation flowed extremely easy between the two of you, talking about anything and everything. From his experience in college to what your favorite song was at the moment. “I have a question,” he spoke after taking a bite of the french fries you had brought out at some point during the conversation. “I may have an answer. Ask away doc.” He smiled lightly at the nickname. “You’re a senior right?” You nodded your head, wondering where this was going. “So why do you still live in the dorms?” You let out a small laugh. “It’s part of my scholarship. I get free housing and I am also an RA.” He took a sip of his drink and mulled over the information. “Now it’s my turn. How old are you?” You told yourself it was an innocent question, that you held no ulterior motives other than curiosity. His eyebrows rose before he set his glass down. “I’m twenty-nine. You’re twenty-one right?” “Yeah.” Eight years, you thought, not that big of a difference. You internally scolded yourself. You couldn’t be thinking that. He was here doing an investigation on your missing friend. He wasn’t thinking about picking up some random college girl who still lived in the school dormitories.

Similarly, Spencer was having an internal battle about his feelings. He wanted to believe that what he was feeling was simple protectiveness over a witness, although it was pretty clear that you were not in any sort of danger.

“So where do you live?” You asked in order to fill the silence that had taken place. “I live about and hour and a half away in D.C.” He felt the need to add the fact that he didn’t live far away from your current location. “I’ve never been.” You said. He almost chocked on his drink. “You’ve never been to D.C.? But it’s so close!” Again with the proximity, could you be any more obvious? Spencer scolded himself. “I know I know but I work most weekends and when I’m not working I’m studying so it is kind of hard to get free time.” I’ll take you. That is what he wanted to say. He had to stop before he made a fool out of himself. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. Sure he has been attracted to plenty of girls before but you were different. You didn’t stop his ramblings about statistics and random facts that he had in his brain. You listened to him and sometimes even asked to him to elaborate more on a certain subject. You also tended to ramble like when he asked about your family, you went on a tangent about how your mom was your best friend and your younger sister had a dream of being a dancer. Or when he asked about your major and you went on to explain all the research you were doing. You were so passionate about everything you talked about. He smiled at the happiness in your eyes. They were still bloodshot from your breakdown this morning but they held so much happiness and hope that he couldn’t help but feel the same. He was about to reply when his phone rang and he realized he had been talking to you for over an hour. More than halfway to D.C., he thought. He answered it and heard Morgan’s voice telling him to head back to the station as they had found the name of the man who talked to Haley that night. “I uh- I have to go.” He gestured behind him to the door but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up yet. You nodded your head, slightly disappointed that he had to leave. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the card he gave you this morning, writing down your number on the back. “Call me if you find her. Please. Dead or alive I don’t care I just don’t want to find out from the news.” You handed him the card and he looked down at it. “Don’t you need my number if you need to call me? If you have more information that is.” He questioned. “Oh I already put it on my phone. Is that weird?” He looked at you with something that you couldn’t put your finger on. “No, not weird. Kind of cute actually.” He smiled down at you, having already stood up from the bar chair. You blushed and looked away from him. Your blush gave him a sudden surge of confidence. “Can I call you? Even if it isn’t about Haley. Can I just call you?” You smiled brightly at him. “Yes Dr. Reid you can call me.” “Spencer,” he said. You gave him a confused look. “Call me Spencer.” He took a step back heading to the door. “Spencer.” You tested the name on your lips, the smile never leaving your face. He grinned at you and walked out the door. • • • The next day you received a call from Spencer after your lecture. You smiled down at your phone before answering. “Spencer to what do I owe the pleasure?” “Hey y/n we found Haley.” Your heart stopped, the voice in your head praying for it to be good news. “She’s alive and being taken to the hospital.” A long breath left your lips as tears stung your eyes. She’s alive. She’s alive. Without thinking you hung up the phone and hurried to find a cab that could take you to the hospital. You payed the man quickly and took off after he pulled up to the curb. You saw Spencer with Agent Morgan and a woman you haven’t seen before but you assumed she was a part of their team. “She’s okay? Please tell me she’s going to be okay.” You started speaking as soon as you were within hearing distance of Spencer. As he soon as he saw you his eyes softened. “She’s in the ICU right now. They are setting her up and her mom is on the way.” He looked down at you and his heart broke at the tears that were making their way down your cheeks. “Oh thank god. Who was it? Was it the guy I-“ your voice broke before you could finish but Spencer understood what you wanted to ask. “Yeah it was. If it wasn’t for you remembering him it would have taken us a lot longer to find her. You saved her y/n okay?” He reassured you because he knew what you were thinking. It was written across your face. You could have stopped him. “You had no way of knowing. Don’t blame yourself.” He placed his hands on your shoulders as you nodded your head weakly. You leaned your head on his chest needing some sort of comfort from what you were feeling. He didn’t push you away. In fact he pulled you closer and let you cry, staining his shirt. Morgan and Prentiss gave each other a bewildered look because Spencer Reid did not hug. Much less strangers who were witnesses on a case. A doctor came into view and cleared his throat. “Haley Bowen,” he called out. You pulled away from Spencer and walked toward the doctor. “Yes?” He gave you a smile which you took to be good news. “She’s going to be fine. She has a concussion, bruised ribs and sprained wrists from being bound but I have no doubt that she will make a full recovery and be out of here in the next few days.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Can I see her?” The doctor shook his head. “Right now it is family only and I’ve been told her mother is not far but after she gets moved out of the ICU tomorrow you can come visit her at any time.” The doctor finished and walked away. You turned back to the three agents who were now looking at you. You felt awkward in their gaze so you locked eyes with Spencer. “Thank you Spencer really. I should go I have a class in about 40 minutes but hey don’t be a stranger.�� You pointed an accusing finger at him and he let out a laugh. “Spencer?” Prentiss and Morgan mouthed to each other. “I won’t I swear. I’ll call you later?” He ignored the questioning looks his coworkers were sure to be giving him. “I’d like that. Maybe you can show me around D.C. sometime.” He smiled as he remembered their conversation yesterday. “Definitely.” You blushed, something that you found yourself doing a lot around him. “Bye Spencer.” “See you later y/n.” He watched you disappear from view before turning back to Morgan and Prentiss. “Okay what the hell was that?” Prentiss spoke up first. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smiled innocently at both of them before walking away in search of coffee, ignoring his friend’s calls from behind him. He wondered if you would mind him calling you earlier than expected.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #cm #criminal minds #emily prentiss #derek morgan #mgg blurb #mgg #mgg x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reader insert

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calmsweetcreature · 4 years

Text

Fraternizing

A/N: Here’s my first Mikey Fic!! Lemme know the kinds of fics you want to see for the boys and I’ll make a start, I’m thinking a Luke Fic next so lemme know!

Warnings: Angst/Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5.4K

The party was heaving with bodies everywhere and as I squeezed my way through to the kitchen a hand came down hard on my shoulder.

“It’s the little mouse, what are you doing here?” Johnny Macintosh was a real piece of work, he was one of the most well known frat guys on campus - namely for how he treated women and how much beer he could put away at parties. “Always thought you were too square for parties like this, did you get lost on the way to the library?” His words were a wet whisper against my ear that made me shiver with how uncomfortable I felt. I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and walked through the gyrating bodies towards the kitchen, until again a hand came down onto my shoulder and I spun around to give Johnny a piece of my mind only to be met with my roommate and best friend Julia.

“Hey Y/N I found you! You having fun?” her words were slurred, and as she raised a red plastic cup to her lips a body crashed into her from behind sending a cherry red drink all down my white top.

“Oh s-shit, Y/N I’m sorry!” Julia reaches for my top and I push her hand away. Her heart was always in the right place but Julia always took the phrase ‘let loose on the weekend’ a bit too seriously. She dragged me out most weekends but it was never long before she left with some guy, not to be seen again until the next day.

“It’s fine, just go and sit for a bit okay? I’ll come find you soon, I’ve got to try and clean this off before it dries!” I pushed my way through and into the kitchen, grabbing some paper towels and wetting them under the faucet, patting the red liquid stains off of my top.

“I bet you regret wearing white to a frat, don’t you?” A lazy drawl came from behind me and I clamped my eyes shut in frustration. Michael-fucking-Clifford.

Me and Michael had been butting heads ever since I had started college, he liked to tease me in everyway possible and I fucking hated him for it.

“You could say that, although I think I regret coming here at all now.” Your words came out more viciously then you had intended and a hand dropped on my shoulder to turn me around.

“Now now Kitten, don’t be like that.” His lips were pouting but there was a twinkle in his eyes that led on to just how mischievous he was being. My eyes narrowed as a growl left my throat at the term of endearment he had so graciously given to me. After hearing Johnny call me mouse for the longest time and listening to me verbally bite Johnny’s ear off every time, Michael had decided that this was no mouse but a Kitten with claws, which is the only thing he had called me since.

“What do you want Michael? I’m not in the mood today.” I keep scrubbing at my top, the cloth not removing the red drink stain but instead adding a large wet patch, making the top see through and revealing the pale pink lace bra underneath. Michael scowls, reaching behind me to grab a towel, patting the top dry.

“You do not want to walk around this house like that Y/N, not with the likes of Johnny here.” His eyes were dark, the dabbing motion of his hand getting slower until his hand is slowly dragging the towel over my chest, the side of his fingers trailing over the swell of my breasts.

“Mouse!” Johnny’s voice is carried from the other side of the room and Michael’s hand moves away so fast it’s like I burnt him.

“We’re starting truth or dare in the other room and I reserved you a seat!” He pushed his way through the kitchen, pushing freshman out of the way until he is stood directly in front of me.

“I’m not interested Johnny.” His eyes go to my top and a dark grin spreads over his face.

“Shame little mouse, I think everyone would like to see more of you.” His eyes linger on my chest for a moment before he saunters off into the crowd. The intensity of his gaze makes me almost fold into myself, and I stare at the ground, wishing it could swallow me up.

“Ignore that guy kitten, he’s a prick,” Michael’s words are hushed but I can hear the anger in them which makes my eyes meet his in the crowded room. It’s like the music and the chatter stops, the only hint of the pounding music is the floor vibrating under my feet. I blink, shaking my head.

“Like you, you mean?” He lets out a snarl at my words and throws the towel he’d been grasping at my chest.

“Go fuck yourself then Little Mouse” He sneers, walking away from me.

“Michael wait!” I call, following after him. I walk into the lounge to see a huge circle of people, Michael going and sitting across the room.

“Changed your mind then mouse? I saved you a spot next to me!” Johnny pats the floor next to him and I can’t help but sigh knowing that I didn’t really have a choice. I timidly sit myself next to Johnny and I can feel Michael’s eyes on me from across the circle.

I keep my eyes low on the floor, my arms across my chest to hide the still slight transparent patch on my top. The game begins and I soon realise this isn’t the same game that I remember from high school. The rules are that all truths must be answered or you must streak across campus but the forfeit for not completing dares were that you must do a double shot of vodka or a line of coke.I was not prepared to do any of those things so I knew I would have to be extra careful.

“Mikey, truth or dare?” One of the girls in the group asked him with a twinkle in her eye as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger. You didn’t want to judge another woman and label her a bimbo but you weren’t totally sure how she got into college - it definitely wasn’t through academic means, you knew that.

“Dare.” His eyes met the girls and she giggled, her eyes blazing from either alcohol or drugs - I couldn’t tell which.

“I dare you to take a body shot off of me.” Michael rolls his eyes but nods, clearly having had enough of this dumb game already. I couldn’t help but frown at the unsteady feeling in my stomach at the thought of watching Michael do something intimate with a random girl. The feeling intensifies when the girl strips off her top leaving her in a bra and skirt - causing all of the boys and a few of the girls in the circle to whoop and holler.

I stare as another girl wets a line leading between the valley between the breasts of the girl (you now knew to be called Lucy) and sprinkle salt across it before pouring a shots worth of tequila in her bellybutton, finishing with a wedge of lemon between Lucy’s teeth.Michael manoeuvres himself until he is leaning over the blonde, his eyes catching mine as his tongue slides across her skin, the eye contact not stopping as he sucks the tequila from her belly button and not even as his mouth hovers over hers to suck up the lemon. There was a darkness in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore and as much as I didn’t always like the man, a shiver was running through my body that was setting me alight.

He sits up throwing the leftover lemon across the room. “I fucking hate tequila.”

Lucy leans up, looking after Michael longingly, “Hey Mich-”

He cuts her off, sitting back in his spot in the circle. “Put your fucking shirt on Lucy.”

A hurt look crosses the girls face and she grabs her clothes, leaving the room.

“Fucking savage bro, you going after her? She’d probably follow you to bed easy” Johnny asks Michael, who shakes his head before taking a long swig of his beer.

A slew of truths and dares go around the group, from being asked to pretend butt-dial parents and fake sex noises to chugging a bottle of ketchup. I was about ready to stand up and leave the game when Johnny pointedly stares at me, pointing in my direction.

“Mouse, truth or dare?” His grin is sickening and I close my eyes, dreading what was to come. Before I can open my mouth to answer he interrupts me. “You’re taking too long, you get a dare.”

“Johnny that’s not fair, I-” He cuts me off again.

“New rule little mouse, dare it is.” Chuckles go around the room and I cringe a little, suddenly realising how much of the group is made up of Johnny’s minions. From the corner of my eye I see Michael roll his eyes and that makes me sit up straighter, thinking that he’s judging me for being a whimp.

“Fine, bring it.” I falsify confidence, hoping no one can recognise the nerves on my face. I’m not supposed to be here, I’m the quiet girl who doesn’t spend time in frats - this game being one of the reasons why.

Johnny strokes his face as if thinking before he smirks, leaning back against the couch he is sat in front of.

“You have to sit on my lap. And kiss me.” All of the guys in the circle crack up apart from Michael who pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. The girls glare at me jealousy and I stare at Johnny incredulously.

“Johnny what the fuck?” I stare at him in shock and he grins, a sly laugh leaving his lips.

“I could always cut you a line princess. Your choice.” I stare at the ground, sighing before moving, sitting on Johnny’s lap as close to his knees as I can get without falling off him.

“You didn’t say how long for so thirty seconds is your limit.” I keep my words pointed and he rolls his eyes but nods nonetheless.

The group cheers as he puts his hand on the back of my head, pulling me in and kissing me. Now - as much as I didn’t like the guy, I had to admit he could kiss. His tongue slides across my bottom lip and I don’t let him in, that is until he pinches the skin of my thigh and I gasp, his tongue entering my mouth and wrestling with my own.I count to thirty in my head before I move my head back, but his hand clasps my head and keeps me in place as his other hand goes to the bottom of my back, pushing me further into his lap. I put my hands on his chest and push but to no avail, I breathe deeply through my nose pushing against him as hard as I can.

While most of his friends start laughing I can hear some of his friends calling his name.

“Johnny man, it’s time.”

“Uh dude you should probably stop now.”

“Get your hands the fuck off her Coleman.” I can hear Michael’s voice over the rest and I push with both hands at Johnny’s chest. His hands move to my shirt as he pulls away breathing heavy. I hear a ripping noise before I feel myself getting pulled off of his lap as I’m pushed behind a tall body. I look down at my ripped shirt, my lace bra out in the open, I push my front against the tall boy in front of me that I now realise is Michael as I catch my breath.

“Awh Mouse I was enjoying that.” Johnny wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why’d you ruin my fun Clifford, want a taste?”

Michael tenses in front of me and I put a hand on his back, stroking my thumb until I feel his body relax slightly. I couldn’t even tell what the dynamic was between us in this moment but all I knew was I felt safe behind him.

“No man, I'm good.” Johnny smirks at his words but the smile drops from his lips when Michael utters “I like my women when they’re willing.”

Johnny stands up, his chest puffing out. “Fuck you man. Hey mouse, don’t panic - you’re a shit kisser anyway, thought your tits would make up for it but they’re shit too.”

Michael takes a step forward and I put an arm around his waist, “Michael leave it, please.”

He stills, his arm resting on top of mine before he growls under his breath, turning to leave the room with me trailing behind him.

“Michael it’s fine, I’ll just go back to my room.” He leads me up the stairs, his hand holding mine as we walk through the house.

“Y/N there is no way in hell you’re walking back through campus with that rip in your shirt. I’m getting you another shirt and then I’ll walk you back.” He pulls you through a door with a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign across the front, you bite your lip as you take in the decor. Black bedding adorns the bed, a grey rug on the floor with a wall of guitars and band posters everywhere.

“Nice room.” You murmur, picking up a photo from a cabinet and observing the picture where Michael has his arms around three other guys.

“That’s my best friends - Ash, Cal and Luke. We’re in a band together.” He turns and rummages through a drawer by his bed, looking for a shirt. I run a finger over the photo, tracing over Michael’s grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that,” I whisper, thinking about how most of mine and Michael’s conversations had been little bickers.I smile at the photo of the grinning man, laughing with his friends. The darkly dressed, scowling man you’d come to know looked so different.

“Why would you, it’s hard to give you a smile when you’re irritating me all of the damn time.” I turn to look at him when a black ball of fabric hits me in the face. I stumble back, hitting my head on the door and sliding until I’m sat on the floor. A yelp leaves my throat at the sudden fall, but the sound is muffled by the tee.

“Shit!” I pull the shirt from my face to see Michael kneeling in front of me, a concerned look on his face. “Y/N, I didn’t mean for that to happen, are you okay?” His hand goes to the back of my head, and while the touch makes me flinch, I know there’s no lasting damage.

“I’ll probably have a sore head tomorrow but yeah I’m fine.” I laugh softly at the worry on his face and he rolls his eyes, his hand not moving from the back of my head.

I look at the tee and back to Michael. “Liberty’s? You work there?” The dive bar just off of campus was not a place you frequented often, but most of your friends did - if not for the live music then for the rowdy atmosphere that was sure to get your blood pumping.

“Yeah, it’s where my band plays most of the time - I DJ sometimes and Luke and Cal who are in that photo you were drooling over work the bar most night and Ash works the door.” I blush at his words as he stands up, walking over to a mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two beers.

“I was not drooling, don’t be a jackass.” I change into the tee, it swallows me and becomes kind of like a dress on my figure. I grab one of the beers and sit on the edge of his bed awkwardly. “Thanks for the beer?” My words trail off into a question as I look at him, trying to figure out what is going on in this boy’s mind.

“One for the road. That fucking dick downstairs made my buzz disappear.” My fingers play with the hem of the t-shirt, trying to muster up the courage to say what I needed to.

“T-thank you. For what you did downstairs.” I keep my eyes low, not sure whether to say anything more.

“Don’t mention it, you shouldn’t have fucking joined that game, Johnny is a messed up dude who sees you as fruit ripe for the picking.” Michael’s words get angry and I can’t help but watch as he clenches his hand into a fist on his leg before taking a long drink.

“And what do you see me as?” Embarrassment floods through me as I hear a twinge of hope in my words. It’s only now that I’m sitting so close to him that I realise how bright his eyes are, how the stubble on his chin makes him look older then he is and I can’t help but internally shiver as I imagine that stubble grazing my neck.

“I did see you as an annoying spoiled brat who always wanted her own way. I saw you as rude, bitchy and irritating.” His words hurt and it must have been the drink making me that little bit more sensitive because I could feel tears filling my eyes at his words.

I nod softly, setting my beer on the floor. “Don’t worry about walking me back, I’ll be okay.”

I stand from the bed, walking towards the door. I knew that we had always bickered but there was a part of that felt like it was just part of the way we spoke to each other, it was never that I genuinely didn’t like him, but he obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Y/N wait.” I could hear him call after me but I didn’t want to hear more reasons why he didn’t like me. I flew open the door and stepped back out into the booming noise of the party. There were bodies everywhere and the beer was making me feel hazy as a hand clasp my wrist.

“Michael, I-” The room starts spinning when I see Johnny looking down at me, sneering.

“Where’ve you been Mouse? You left me high and dry in front of my boys.” He shakes his head, pushing me against the nearest wall, his arm resting above my head as he towers over my small frame. “You can make it up to me though,”

“No Johnny I was just going home, it was part of the game.” I fake confidence but my voice cracks slightly.

He presses against me, one hand trailing up of Michael’s tshirt, pushing it up slightly. “Awh c’mon Y/N, don’t be so frigid.” His mouth starts lowering towards mine and I turn my head away.

“Johnny, no.” I push against his chest and he tenses, pushing further into me as his mouth connects with my neck. I let out a small cry and push against him more, when suddenly his body is pulled off me and lands with a thud on the floor, another person led over him as punches are thrown at his face.

“She said no. Take no for a fucking answer you fucking creep.” I stand pressed against the wall, my chest heaving as I watch Michael pummel Johnny into the ground.

“Michael get off of him! Mate stop!” Two of the frat boys shout before they come and pull Michael away, leaving Johnny groaning on the floor holding his nose.

I unfreeze as Johnny stands unsteadily, pointing towards me.

“You’ve got fucking problems with this chick man, last week you fucking hated her and now what? You’re defending her honour?” Johnny spits out his words, blood flying from his split lip as he walks towards Michael. “You can fucking have her, she’s a frigid bitch anyway.” He pushes past Michael towards his room, some of his minions following after him.

Michael walks over to you slowly, your eyes on the bloodied knuckles of his hands. He reaches for my hand and I flinch slightly. His eyes get a hurt look in them and goes to move his hand away when I clasp it in mine, gripping it tightly but being careful not to hurt his hand. We look at each other for a moment, silent words passing through our eyes.

“Come back to my room for a minute, please? I just want to talk.” His words are low but pleading and I nod softly. It’s only when he turns that we notice all of the eyes on us. I blush, following after Michael as he drags me softly towards his room, locking the door behind him.

“That’s not to keep you in by the way, you can leave whenever. I just want to keep those assholes out.” I nod softly, holding myself as Michael moves to sit on his bed. “Y/N, kitten, please sit down.” Michael had always used that name to tease me but there was a softness in his words that warmed my heart.

“Firstly you need to know that Johnny won’t bother you again. He’s pretty coked up now but I’ll let him know tomorrow that if he even looks at you that a broken nose, split lip and black eye are the least of his worries.” His fingers move to my chin making me look in his eyes. The intense gaze he was giving me was sending butterflies to my stomach.

“Secondly what I said to you before was a dick move but you need to know that I said those things in the past tense, because I don’t see you that way anymore and I don’t think I ever really did. Fuck Y/N I don’t know.” He lifts his cap, running a hand through his messy hair before putting the cap back on and rubbing his eyes, groaning.

“And what that fucker said was a lie because I’ve never fucking hated you.” He stares into my eyes and I know he’s telling the truth.

One of his hands cups my cheek, and I hold my breath in fear of scaring him off. His forehead presses against mine and I can feel his breath against my lips.

“Have you ever hated me?” His words are hushed and I blush at how close our mouths are.

“Oh there’s been times where I’ve definitely hated you.” Michael smirks, a dark laugh leaving his lips before they’re pushed against mine and suddenly everything disappears. Just his kiss was sending a thousand volts through my body and it was suddenly like I couldn’t get close enough to him. Our faces moved against each other as our tongues wrestled. His hands gripped my face as mine clenched his shirt. We pull away for air and a small whimper leaves my throat. We both sit in silence, breathing in unison.

“Michael… could I stay here? I don’t want to be alone.” His eyes widen at my words and his mouth drops open playfully.

“Y/N how forward of you!” I blush and slap him on the chest.

“Not like that! I just want to talk to you, we’ve never just talked.” For the first real time since I’ve known him, Michael smiles - really smiles and puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest. He feels warm and in his arms I feel safe, almost like I don’t want to leave.

“I’d like that, Kitten.”

We both climb into the bed in our clothes, talking about anything and everything from Michael’s favourite music and where I grew up. I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep but all I knew was that just before I did I felt Michael kiss my forehead.

***

The light shone through the window, casting over the dark room and highlighting the arm around my waist. Somewhere through the night we had pressed up against each other and our legs were tangled as Michael spooned me. The T-shirt I was in had ridden up to my waist, Michael’s arm hot against my skin. I blinked slowly, letting myself wake up peacefully and my eyes adjust to the small amount of light in the room. I take time to remember everything that had happened at the party, left with the knowledge that Michael really does care about me and had saved me from Johnny’s ways.

I shift slightly in the bed, becoming aware of one of Michael’s hands resting on the skin of my thigh and I stretch out my back only to accidentally press my backside against his hips. His arm wraps tighter around me and his fingers spread out across my stomach. Somewhere during the night I had shed my skirt and was dressed only in his long t-shirt. I bite my lip trying not to laugh out loud and wiggle against him again. His fingers dig into my hips and I feel his face nuzzle into the back of my head.

“Kitten. Quit it.” But something bold awakens in me and I continue the movement, circling my hips back and revelling in how tight he holds me close in reaction.

“Y/N.” His voice is a growl of warning but there’s something electric about our bodies being so close. I know I’m pushing my luck but feeling his body react to me gives me all kinds of confidence.

His fingers trace the edge of my underwear and I shiver, fully rocking my ass back against his hardening dick.

“You feeling needy this morning? What happened to just talking?” His words blow hot breaths against my ear and I let out a breathy moan as his hand searches lazily over the lace of my panties, searching for my clit. He knows he’s found it when I let out a short gasp, and chuckles darkly.

“You need something?” His hand leaves my body and travels up towards my jaw, tilting my face up so that his lips are pressed against my ear. His grip is forceful but not painful and the dominance in his movements makes me whimper quietly.

“I just want to feel good Mikey.”

He groans in my ear and leans back from me, his hand on my hip.

“Turn around, please?” I shift my body until I’m facing him and he pulls me even closer, hooking my thigh over his hip until he is pressed up against me, grinding directly against my heat. I rock against him slowly, his half awake eyes and lazy grin making him look so fucking hot that I can’t help the whine that leaves my lips. I lean forward, brushing my lips softly against his.

He leans his head closer to mine to fully press his lips against my own but I pull back. He smirks and waits for me to lean forward before trying again but I pull my head away again, teasing him.

His hand goes to my ass and smacks down, pulling me into him and kissing me forcefully. I giggle against his lips and wrap my free arm around his neck, kissing him with everything I have. Michael rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him, kiss hands pushing down on my backside and grinding up so I can feel every inch of his hardness.

“Kitten you’re going to make me nut right here if you’re not careful, looking so fucking beautiful in my clothes.” I sit up until I’m straddling him, blushing at his words.

“Are you going to go back to not liking me after this?” I take each of his hands in mine, entwining our fingers as I rock my hips forward at a steady pace. “Because i’m not that kind of girl, Clifford.” My tone is teasing and he pulls me down until I’m laying flat on his chest and kisses me deeply, murmuring against my lips.

“I have a funny feeling things aren’t going to be the same again Kitten.” He pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. “Look I’m DJing tonight and my band might play a set. Come and watch us? We can grab food after and see what happens?”

I rest my arms on either side of his head, “I’d like that.” Our lips meet again and I feel myself falling sideways as he rolls us over so that he’s on top of me.

“I want to make you feel good.” His words are whispered against my neck and he kisses down to where my neck and shoulder meets, biting down. I arch against his chest, pulling him closer. Our hips move against each other again, rocking to create as much friction as possible. I could feel how thick he was against my lace covered core and it made me want skin to skin contact - as much as I can get.

I wrap my legs around his waist and push my hips up but I feel his teeth graze my neck before biting down and I yelp out quietly.

“Don’t think for a second that you’re in control here Y/N.” One of his fingers slide under the lace of my underwear and starts tracing figure eights around my clit. I gasp out, my eyes sliding shut as his bulge continues to grind against me, sensations flowing through my body.

“You want to know something Kitten? Eyes on me.” I meet his intense stare, his free hand gripping my hip to steady my movements. His fingers speed up their movements and my eyes start to glaze over as little pants leave my mouth.

“Everytime we used to have our little spats I’d imagine putting my hand on the back of your head and shutting you up with my mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing up your words. I imagined what that bratty mouth would feel like, what you’d taste like. Whether you’d kiss like a princess or a dirty girl.”

His words caused my whole body to shiver, heat rising through my body and making my head spin.

“You going to find out or keep it to your imagination?” My words come out whinier then intended but I get the exact reaction I wanted as Michael growls under his breath and forces his lips against mine roughly, his tongue sliding across my bottom lip before sucking my tongue and biting down.

His hand pushes the rest of our clothes out of his way before hiking one of my thighs high against the bed and slowly pushing into me. I arch my back against him, panting softly as I start to feel oh so full.

“Fucking beautiful.” His words are whispered between us and our eyes connect as he pulls out softly before pushing all the way in. It’s delicious and hot and we both groan and the feeling. Every negative word passed between us melts away and all that is left is two people connecting in the closest of ways.

Our hips rock together, both of us searching for our highs, the small grunts and gasps filling the space between us our eyes staying locked on each other.

Michael’s forehead presses against mine as he grips my hand and pushes it against the mattress.

“Mikey.. I… I” my words are gasped out and Michael presses his lips against mine. “You close baby?” He presses his lips against my neck and sucks harshly, pressing deep inside and grinding his hips and my head spins. Something bursts deep inside me and I throw my head back, a silent scream leaving my mouth.

“Oh fuck, so tight…” A groan leaves Mikey’s lips and he pulls out, releasing over my stomach. A giggle leaves my lips as he flops down next to me with a sheepish grin. He reaches for his shirt, cleaning me up softly.

“You going to let me call you Kitten from now on?” His hand strokes the side of my face and I muzzle into it.

“Only if I can call you my puppy dog?” His face scrunches up and he frowns and me playfully.

“Fuck right off.” His words are harsh but the glint in his eyes is warmer then it’s ever been.

“Woof woof,” I tease before a screaming laugh leaves my lips as he rolls back on top of me, his lips travelling to my stomach as he blows raspberries and tickles me.

I don’t know how long we led there but all I knew was I could spend forever lost between these sheets.

🎆

Let me know what you think!❤️

#5sos #5sos smut #ashton irwin #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin smut #luke hemmings #luke hemmings smut #michael clifford #michael clifford smut #5SOS imagine #5SOS AU #5SOS fic

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

take a break (ii)

wordcount: 1.8k

warnings: cursing

part one

____

Around midnight that night, Rafe and Sophie were at the back-to-school party and Sophie was pleasantly surprised with how normal it all felt between the two. She told herself she fit in more wearing a minidress, knocking back lukewarm Coors Light in an old college basement rather than wearing a cocktail dress, drinking expensive vodka in a mansion. She didn’t let herself drink too much, afraid she’d spill her thoughts to Rafe. He did enough drinking for the two of them throughout the night and was thriving in the crowd with a bravado that came far too natural to him.

“How do you feel about me, really?” Rafe asked Sophie, slurring just a little. He had his lips brushing her ear to be heard over the crowd and was leaning into her against the wall. “What do you mean? I like you, you know that.” She pushed his chest gently, making him stand straight again.

“No, for real. Because I have something important to tell you, but I need to know how you feel.” He leaned close again and she felt uneasy, trying not to let herself overthink what he might mean. “Rafe, not now.”

He frowned. “I wanna tell you. It’s special.”

“Then tell me later. Only if you mean it.”

After he had tripped over a stray lamp cord and nearly took Sophie down with him, James and Colin had been watching Rafe, ready to save him from embarrassment. They’d been listening in and intervened when they heard the topic he brought up. “Rafe, dude, come get water with us.” (Everything had to be phrased as a group suggestion - drunk Rafe never accepted commands.)

Rafe paused, glancing back and forth between them and Sophie. “No, I want Sophie to come, I gotta tell her.”

“I don’t think you do.” Colin shook his head and grabbed Rafe’s arm, trying to pull him away.

Rafe huffed and flailed his arm out of Colin’s grip. “Fine, fine! Soph, baby, you gonna be okay?” She laughed and gave him a gentle push. “I’ll be just fine, I think you should go with the boys. Sounds fun.” He nodded and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Okay, but I’ll be right back. Don’t leave me.”

“Won’t, promise. Go.” She shot a grateful smile to Rafe’s roommates and James grinned, giving her a cheesy salute as he tugged Rafe away to the kitchen. Colin rolled his eyes as he followed behind, then handed Rafe a bottle of water the second they walked in. “Here, drink.”

“No, no, I’m good. I’m great.” Rafe pushed away the bottle, opting to take a long gulp from his solo cup instead.

“That’s fine, I bet James can drink it faster anyways.” Two seconds after Colin handed the bottle to James, Rafe snatched it out of his hand and chugged the whole thing, crushing it in his hand. “Look! I did it.”

“There we go.” James nodded. “Old tricks always work.”

“Hey, guys.” Rafe accepted a White Claw from Colin, the boys figuring it was mainly water anyways. “I’m gonna tell Sophie I love her. Tonight.”

“Hell no you’re not.” Colin laughed.

“You don’t wanna do that buddy, you’re better than that.” James shook his head, moving to block the kitchen door just in case Rafe made a run for it.

Rafe frowned. “S’not fair. I’ve felt it for months now and I don’t wanna say it if she won’t.”

“Months? I thought you told us you knew after formal. Which was early. It’s still early.” Colin added, ever-practical.

James shrugged. He had been dating his high school sweetheart long-distance for three years now and was the hopeless romantic of the three. “That doesn’t matter. If you know, you know. That’s fine. But we’re not gonna let you make a fool of yourself for it, Rafe, you’re drunk off your ass right now.”

“Drunk on my feet.” Rafe corrected, looking a little smug.

“Sure, drunk on your feet. I was thinking about heading home, you wanna walk home? You’re too old to be missing classes for being hungover, even during syllabus week.” Colin reasoned.

“Can I say ‘bye to Sophie?”

“Just good night, no L-word.” James told him, and Rafe nodded. “No L-word.”

The three made their way back out from the kitchen and Rafe found Sophie quickly, greeting her with a misplaced kiss on the corner of her lips. “Sophie, we’re gonna go home. No L-word though.”

“No...what?” She asked with confusion as James smacked his forehead. “I can’t hear you, Rafe, it’s too loud.”

“Good, we’re just gonna take him home!” Colin jumped in quickly, letting Rafe kiss Sophie again before tugging him away. Sophie watched them go, amused but utterly confused, hoping she was just assuming things too quickly from earlier.

After a week back at school, Sophie had hardly talked to Rafe. Her head spun every time she speculated on what he might have been trying to tell her, and she wasn’t sure she could handle it. She tried to be subtle about pushing Rafe off, giving him shorter responses over text and making excuses when he asked to hang out. It wasn’t working.

“Something’s wrong.” Rafe announced to his roommates, frowning when he received another half-hearted reply from Sophie. He’d tried to make plans with her three times that week and she somehow had a new thing she had to handle each time.

“What do you mean, something’s wrong?” Colin asked.

“It’s Sophie. She’s all off.” Rafe frowned. “Ever since we went home she’s been all weird. And now she won’t hang out with me.”

“She’s probably busy, dude, doesn’t she have an internship this semester?”

“How busy can someone really be during syllabus week?” James interjected.

“Week after, but real helpful, dude.” Colin chucked a dirty sock at James, and both of them started throwing random things across the room, yelling unintelligibly, until Rafe spoke up. “Hey. Hey! Knock it off!”

Both boys had the decency to look a little sheepish as they settled down, James taking a seat on the couch next to Rafe. “Show me what she’s saying. Maybe you’re overthinking.”

Colin flopped down on the other side of him. “Yeah, and didn’t you guys basically spend every day together over break? Maybe she needs some space.”

“She’s my girlfriend, why would she need space from me?” Rafe frowned, handing his phone to James.

James took his time to read through, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Huh.”

“Fuck, that bad?”

“No, no, not bad.” James paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Maybe you just need to slow things down a little. You don’t need to see each other every single day just because you’re dating.”

“I know that, but we’ve hardly talked all week. And she was weird at home too. I didn’t do something at the party, did I?” Rafe asked, trying to think back.

“Uh...” Colin and James exchanged glances before Colin shook his head. “No, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Good. I’m gonna call her.” Rafe declared, leaving the room. Sophie didn’t pick up until the fourth ring. “Hey, Rafe, I’m walking to my freshman seminar, can I call you later?”

“Convenient.” He mumbled before he could think.

“I - what?” She replied, slightly taken aback.

“Nothing, sorry. Yeah, can we hang out later? I can pick you up from the architecture building?”

“Um...yeah. I’m done at seven.”

“Deal, I’ll be there.” He hung up before he could let himself say another dumb comment, while Sophie just stared at her phone in confusion after the dial tone. His comment weighed on her all through the class, and she was grateful it was just another lecture day she didn’t need to pay attention to instead of a technical day. When they got out a little early, she texted him right away.

Sophie: just gonna walk home, we can talk tomorrow?

Rafe: I got here early, I’m parked on the side street

She took a deep breath and made her way out the building to his car - the fucking Range Rover that she had never given a second thought about until now. It was just another reminder of what she wasn’t.

“Hey, Soph.” Rafe greeted her with a kiss once she slid into the passenger seat. She gave him a short smile. “Hey. How’d you know I’d be out early?” He shrugged, starting the car. “Only the second week of school, I just figured. Do you want to go get ice cream or something?”

“I can’t, I have my first full day of my internship tomorrow and need to get things ready.” She started playing with her necklace, growing a little antsy.

He glanced over. “Oh. Are you doing this every Monday?”

“Monday and Wednesday nights, yeah. It’s kind of a lot, but I wanted to do one more TA class before senior year.”

“That is a lot. Sounds like you’ll be busy.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel, staring ahead and listening to steady rhythm of rain that picked up around them.

She just hummed in agreement, falling silent again. After a few moments, she reached for the radio, and he gently knocked her hand away. “Sophie, what’s your deal?”

“My deal?” She repeated. “I don’t have a deal, I’m just trying to figure out how to balance work and class. What’s your deal?” She shot back to him, growing defensive.

“And me?”

“What?”

“You’re trying to figure out how to balance me, too?” He glanced over again, jaw set. This was not at all how he wanted this conversation to go - but it also felt good to finally get it out, so he didn’t stop himself.

“Where the fuck is this coming from, Rafe?” She turned in her seat to fully face him, arms crossed.

“You’ve been like this for a moment. Before school started, so you can’t use that excuse.” He pulled up front on the street outside Theta and turned off the car so he could fully face her.

She backed down a little, shrinking back into her seat. “Have I? I’m not sure about that.”

Rafe frowned and reached out for her hand, but she pulled it back. “Soph, come on. Talk with me.”

“I am talking. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just balancing things.” She insisted, biting the inside of her cheek hard to keep her composure. In her mind, there would be nothing worse than showing him how much she was struggling at the moment - she just needed to work things out with herself, and she’d be fine.

He regarded her carefully, unsure. “Maybe...maybe we should take a break.” He said it all in one breath, extremely wary of her reaction. “Just for a couple weeks. I’ll back off.”

Sophie nodded in agreement without any hesitation. “Yeah. We should.”

Rafe’s face twisted in disappointment. He swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were almost white, avoiding her gaze. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She stopped, almost reaching out to touch him, question it, but changed her mind at the last minute. She grabbed her backpack and got out of the car, wincing when the door accidentally slammed shut behind her.

He flinched at her slamming the door, eyes still trained out the window. Rafe still waited until she was safely inside, then waited a moment longer to catch his breath, feeling like he had been punched in the gut.

A break, accepted without any pause.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #college rafe #frat rafe #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Text

Plank All Over Me - Friendship Test Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Plank All Over Me Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

“I’m Chris Pine.” Tom waved to the camera.

“And I’m Nick Cage.” You threw your hands up.

“And we have surprisingly both played a version of Spider-Man.” Tom jeered.

“I personally am not surprised Mr. Nicholas Cage played Spider-Man and I don’t know why you are.” You joked.

“Because he’s Nicholas Cage.” Tom pointed out.

“And he was born to play this role? Jealously is a disease, honey.” You waves your hand in Toms face.

“Don’t say it.” He groaned.

“Get well soon.” You blew him a kiss which he swatted away.

“She said it.” He looked at the camera and sighed.

“I feel like we need to start warning brands that we’ll do a video with them, but the intro is gonna be ten minutes of us fighting and there’s nothing they can do to stop that.” You laughed as you realized you were doing it again.

“We’re doing the Friendship Test with Glamour by the way.” Tom said. “Sorry Glamour for not warning you how difficult we are to work with.”

“We’re also not friends.” You said sarcastically.

“We’re going to be man and wife in a few months.” Tom reminded you.

“That doesn’t mean we’re friends.” You replied. “I also never understood the phrase “man and wife.” Like, you’re still a man but I unlock the secret third gender of “wife”? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Darling, the only two genders are Coke and Pepsi.” Tom said as if it were obvious.

“Oh, right. My bad.” You laughed.

“Lets start the video.” Tom suggest and clasped his hands together.

“Yea, I think this has been our worst intro yet.” You said apologetically.

“We’re gonna have you guys talk a little about each other in separate rooms first.” A crew member behind the camera told you.

“Oh, okay.” You said as you were lead into the adjacent room.

“Talk to us about Y/n.” Tom was asked in his room.

“Tell us about Tom.” They asked you.

“My favorite thing to talk about.” Tom grinned shyly and looked at his feet.

“Where do I even start?” You shrugged.

“I always say this, not necessarily to her, but she is not a girl you date. She is a girl you marry.” Tom began. “I cannot even imagine dating her and not ending up with her. That’d just be torture and it’d be unfair to all the other girls I came across because I’d always compare them to Y/n.”

“Sometimes, I put his phone on top of the refrigerator when we’re fighting.” You told the camera.

“There is no one in this world who’s more generous.” Tom gushed.

“He’s too short to reach it.” You laughed a little.

“More caring.” He continued.

“It’s really entertaining to watch him try and get it down.” You stated.

“More beautiful.” He listed off.

“He never does.” You shook your head.

“Or more giving than Y/n.” He finished.

“I always have to get it for him.” You chuckled.

“If I didn’t have her, I’d be searching in vain for the rest of my life for something that can give to me what she does.” Tom said sincerely.

“God, he’s also such a bad driver.” You sighed.

“But nothing compares to her.” He professed.

“He runs red lights like it’s his job.” You called him out.

“She completes me and it’s been the greatest joy of my life to love her.” Tom said, getting a little emotional.

“I’m always like “slow down, sonic!” and I honestly don’t even think he can hear me.” You shrugged.

“And to be loved by her.” He smiled.

“He’s crazy.” You said.

“She’s a blessing.” Tom said.

“Thanks guys. We’re gonna return to the first room now for the test.” The crew told you. You were brought back into the room where Tom was ready waiting with a small stack of black cards.

“Exercise one in the friendship test, we have to stare into each other’s eyes for three minutes.” Tom read off a little card. You turned to face each other and instantly smiled.

“Your eyes are so brown.” You commented as you studied them.

“Is that a good thing?” He asked.

“It’s the best thing.” You promised.

“Babydoll. My heart.” He pouted at your complement.

“I never loved brown eyes until I loved you.” You said softly.

“I never loved until I loved you.” He replied.

“Woah. Calm down there, Hamlet. This is Glamour, not our wedding vows.” You laughed shyly at his profession.

“Did you call me Hamlet?” His eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah.” You said as you continued to hold eye contact.

“And not Romeo?” He inquired.

“Why would I call you Romeo?” You asked.

“You’re calling me a famous Shakespearean lover boy and you chose Hamlet over Romeo?” He asked in confusion.

“Romeo was dumb. Oh, then actually yeah, you are Romeo.” You teased.

“If you’re being like this to my face, I can’t wait to hear what sweet things you said about me in the other room.” Tom joked.

“We were supposed to say sweet things?” You asked in a panic.

“She’s kidding.” Tom apologized for you, but you weren’t actually kidding.

“Yes. Kidding.” You lied.

“Has it been three minutes yet? My eyes are so dry.” Tom rubbed around his eyes.

“That makes me think of our plank video.” You smiled when he asked about the time.

“It’s been four.” A crew member told you and your and Tom finally broke eye contact.

“God, I can’t look at this hideous creature any longer.” You joked and Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Exercise two, compliment each other.” You read off the next card.

“We have to write them down first?” Tom asked the crew.

“He’s asking because he can’t read.” You kidded.

“I know you’re joking, but I genuinely can’t read.” He laughed as he began to write down some compliments.

“It’s okay, baby. Do you best.” You laughed back.

“Okay. I’ll go first.” You opened your notepad. “You’re incredibly hard working. You always show appreciation to each and every person you come into contact with. You dedicate everything you have to your work and it really shows with your outstanding performances. You constantly give and never expect anything in return. You’re a great person to have on my team. And your ass is fat.” You read off what you wrote on the notepad.

“Baby, I’m gonna cry. You really think that about my butt?” Tom held a hand over his heart as he played into your joke.

“Yes. And I love your ears. I forgot to put that in there.” You remembered.

“I’ve always been insecure about my ears. You really like them?” He touched one as he looked at you.

“Yes, My Dumbo looking king.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek several times.

“My turn.” Tom laughed at your statement. “I said you’re really good at making tea.” He read off the notepad and stared at you blankly.

“Babe, you didn’t.” You out your hands over your mouth as if you were about to cry.

“I did.” He nodded.

“Stop. You gas me up too much.” You pretended to wipe away tears.

“I have too, baby. No one makes tea the way you do.” He continued his joke.

“My secret is hot water.” You winked at the camera.

“Exercise three, ask anything.” Tom read off another card.

“There’s so much I want to know.” Tom gushed, as if he didn’t already know everything about his fiancé.

“Ask away.” You smiled.

“Who is your favorite actor?” Tom started his questions off.

“Oh, that’s a good question.” You pretended to think about it. “It’s gotta be Ryan Reynolds.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded curtly. “Well what about your favorite actor named Tom? Preferably Tom H?”

“Easy. Tom Hanks.” You replied with a shrug.

“Let’s try this, favorite British Tom H?” He tried again.

“Tom Hiddleston, duh.” You laughed.

“Okay. Okay. That’s fine. Who’s your favorite actor who has portrayed Spider-Man?” He narrowed the pool.

“Another easy one. It’s obviously John Mulaney.” You said and looked at the crew for their agreement.

“He didn’t play Spiderman.” Tom stated.

“He played Spider-Ham in Into The Spiderverse. You didn’t specify if he had to have portrayed human Spider-Man.” You told Tom.

“Well then who’s your favorite British actor who has played Spider-Man?” Tom asked.

“Oh. I see. This was all a set up to the obvious. My favorite British actor who had played Spider-Man,” you shrugged and Tom smiled, “Andrew Garfield. Is he here? Was this a setup to surprise me with my favorite British actor who’s played Spider-Man?”

“He’s not here.” Tom pretended to be hurt.

“No? Then I have to leave early.” You joked.

“Lucky for you, we’ve completed all the exercises.” Tom said when he realized there were no more cards.

“So they took the fight to the death part out of the test?” You asked in faux sadness.

“I guess they did.” Tom laughed.

“Darn.” You shook your head as Tom wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“We can still fight to the death when we get home.” He said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Promise?” You asked.

“Yes, babygirl. I promise.” Tom pulled you into a hug and rolled his eyes at the camera. “Thank you for watching our Friendship Test.”

“And thank you Glamour for having us.” You said once you pulled out of the hug.

“Who knows? Maybe next time you see us, we’ll be married.” Tom winked at the camera.

“Or divorced.” You deadpanned. “Bye!”

Tag List 🏷

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #plank all over me #tom holland x best friend!reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Text

Yandere ocs voice headcanons

Dunno just though this would be fun I’m sure you guys have your own voices in mind but here how it is

This contains: talk of sex, lot of characters, yandere talk

Theodore

Okay so you know yuki from fruits basket....

Make the tone louder and warmer and boom Theo

He has a very soothing voice like the type that you can hear talk for hours or fall asleep to

When annoyed or angry his voice lowers in pitch and is strained from him trying to keep from shouting

He always keeps the same tone of voice usually it’s always sweet and calm and nice

He talks very very proper like he makes sure to always sound like a gentleman

When he’s angry though he will absolutely say the word fuck or shit under his breath with a growl following it

Is the ceo of fake laughs

His fake laughs are always soft and short

His real laugh always has a shocked snort or him choking before bursting out laughing

He makes sure to cover his mouth and apologizes when he laughs cause he sees it as rude

Hikaru

Okay so as y’all know he has two sides

His stage persona voice is super sugary sweet

But don’t mistake that for hyper nope

Somehow no matter what he says it sounds like he’s smiling while talking

Never raises his voice but he does have his cracks of his real personality seeping through

With those he’ll clench his teeth

Like you know those people who speak with a fake laugh when they really wanna choke you

There are times where he has to pretend to be all cute and shy while on stage persona

His voice will get soft and sweet down to a shy little whisper

He hates doing this so there will be a slight annoyed tone in his voice that he tries to hide

When he’s pissed at you but he has to keep cool it always sounds kinda scary

“Hehe y/n my...sweet y/n, can we talk in private please sweetie?”

Normal hikaru’s voice is much deeper and cruder

Not quite bakugo tone but like just as crude and mean

Somehow always sounds like he’s one step from snarling out his words

Legit swears in every sentence

Kinda talks like a delinquent

Everything about him changes from posture to tone

He’s legit just a violent tsundere

Axis

Okay so..his voice is like ultimate sub energy

When he talks to anyone else besides you he is cheerful but also pretty normal

When it’s you..simp

You can hear the obsession in his voice. Its always sounds just absolutely happy and filled with joy

I always say that axis is like a happy puppy when he hears his darling is near

He bad mood instantly vanishes and he is just nearly squealing with joy

When he gets all bratty his cheeks puff all out and he lowers his tone making sure you know that he’s upset with you

As far as his whiny yandere side it sounds so desperate like he’s going to die if he doesn’t kiss you or hold you

I think I said this before but axis is the loudest so if you try to walk out the door or something he will scream and beg you not to go anywhere it sounds like it physically hurts to have you leave

He has a habit of hurting himself to get you to stay during these moments he would have a pathetic stutter

“I-I’m h-hurt! Y-you wouldn’t leave someone bleeding out all alone right? Right!?”

When he’s serious his tone shifts low

Not like mature low no it still has that youthful innocence but it sounds deadpan and soft like as if all feelings other than hate or anger vanished

During these moments he would say something like “stay away from my sweet perfect y/n...or I’ll kill you”

Salem

Yuri from yarichan bitch club

Okay though seriously something like him except more lower in pitch

He does slur his speech and I think I said this before but the more excited he gets the less English comes out of him

It goes from shaky toddler talking to barking and random garbled words and crazy laughing.

The only time he would talk “normal” is when he’s docile aka he’s high as hell or if he spends a large amount of time cuddles up to his darling

In that case his voice is soft though there is some stutters and crackling cause he’s not used to speaking normally

He also pauses a lot cause he’s not smart at all and words are hard

His manner of speaking is very toddler like

Words would be dumbed down and even nicknamed

Expect phrases such as “y-y/nnn, wuv wuv wuv! Ooowahhhh!” In a squealing happy tone

All in all his voice..is interesting

Prince

Prince is a fuck boy

So he sounds like a douche

Like to use the word babe and baby a lot

He honestly thinks he’s the shit so everything out his mouth comes off as cocky

His voice is kinda like those lead singers from boy bands that’s the best way I can describe it

Like those fake bad boys who are all like “yeah baby wanna smoke cigarettes in the parking lot of McDonald’s”

His voice squeaks A LOT though when nervous

Like he tries to keep his voice low and cool sounding but the moment darling flirts or gives him attention it’s just 📈📈📈

When flustered he talks in a high pitch flustered tone

It’s absolutely adorable

Takes him a while to bring it back down though

He likes to speak in Korean sometimes

It sounds so smooth when he does

He has such confidence it sounds like he’s in a kdrama or something

When things are getting steamy he likes to slow down his pacing of words and talk lower

He thinks it sounds sexy but it kinda sounds fake

It’s cause he doesn’t wanna admit that he’s a switch but whatever prince you do you boo

Prince laughing is amazing

You know Kuroo’s laugh?? Yeah take that and make it a tad bit higher and as a ton of hiccups and gasping for air and boom prince

This is why prince has a fake laugh

Like he’ll do a simple little heh. And that’s it

Yuki

Super hush

Barley a whisper

His voice is flat and cold

Very blunt

He mostly responds in grunts or sounds when in public with his darling

If he absolutely has to speak it’s a single word

Some would deem his voice boring and dull

He has very dry humor and this is the same with his tone of speaking

You will get simple responses from him

When he is with his darling just alone he is far more warm and sweet his voice is still barely above a whisper but it has a nice rumble to it

Even when he’s pissed it’s soft and calm sounding

He doesn’t like shouting cause loud sounds make him cry

That being said the only time he would get loud is when he cries

If something is hurting him he can’t take it for long

His voice cracks and he sounds whiny almost like he’s terrified

Just a shaky “s-stop!”

His breathing would get all intense and his words would come out as stutters as he tries to dial it back down to that soft calm tone probably adding his last response with a hush “please. Stop”

Not much to say about his voice though there is always amusement swinging within it whenever someone gets annoyed by his dry humor or antics

He can’t help but fight a smile as he tries to keep from laughing

Also! Yuki laugh is amazing

He has two different kinds he has his soft chuckles

And then his louder laughs which are still soft by normal standards but they are so filled with joy

So cute..

Rocket

Okay so even though rocket is a southern boy he will absolutely use his fake “bro” voice when meeting people you deem important cause he doesn’t wanna embarrass you

His worst fear is them seeing him as some southern loser

So his bro voice is very frat boy like

Typical college guy voice

Like stated before when flustered or angry his real voice seeps out

His real voice isn’t too deep or anything it’s very warm and happy

That southern accent though?! ✨Strong ✨

When he says darling you can feel that shit

Even him saying normal word it’s still strong as ever

It fits him so well though like his voice isn’t deep despite his height and build

When excited though he talks super fast

Another puppy boy

He is just so excited he can’t hold back his words so he’s talking a mile a minute

He just can’t stop!

His tone of voice very much shows how he feels

When sad his voice is soft and hushed down to a pouty whimper as he looks down shoulders slumped and posture just spilling out sadness

Same when he’s happy he is so perked up and just ✨happy✨

When he laughs it’s one of those loud happy laughs

Those laughs from deep in his chest

When he’s flustered or feeling submissive he has a very soft way of speaking that shows that he’s vulnerable at the moment

All around cute bara boy has cute voice

Rin

Twink

Just straight up a brat

Sounds like he could commit arson at any moment

He has this very cocky coy tone in his voice

Sounds kinda childish at times

He doesn’t take anything seriously so that’s to be expected honestly

His voice is quite high pitched yet smooth

When serious though his childish tone remains but it gets scarier and deadpan

“I’ll show you why you should never mess with me and my gang..”

He’s a person who grins when pissed so it’s hard to tell when he’s angry unless you hurt his darling

Ike if he’s tweaked off you won’t know

You won’t know any of his emotions honestly he kinda smiles though it all even if he’s depressed

When he loses that childish charm in his voice it’s usually when he’s having a breakdown

His voice sounds so weak and hurt and all his bottled up feeling explode

He’s a PFFFT laugher he usually laughs so hard his face turns red and he can’t breathe

As far as fake laughs it’s very cookie cutter just a few ha ha’s and that’s it.

When having..steamy times his voice lowers and that childish tone is there but it’s sadistic like he’s enjoying toying with you and breaking you

Zeke

The deepest voice out of all of them

Rich deep and sexy

Also a person with dry humor at times

Likes to respond with sounds as well

“Haaah?” “Hmmm..” “eh?” All those are acceptable

His voice rumbles in his chest

Put your hand on his chest while he’s talking and it’s like he’s purring

Very much likes using more slang terms

“If I were to rock your shit..would I be wrong?”

“Bitch do I look like boo-boo the fool to you?”

He grew up in a very cultured household so yeah he has different mannerisms of speaking unlike the others

He usually sounds bored or calm when he’s speaking to someone he doesn’t trust

Now his friends on the other hand this bitch hype

Constantly laughing, joking and grinning

He can’t stop being chaotic as hell

His tone is much louder as he’s more comfortable and he tends to use more swears and slang

When speaking in Spanish his voice is just as deep and he adores rolling his R’s every. Single. Time

As far as singing goes his voice is so smooth

Filled with soul and passion like he loves what he does

He has such a beautiful voice

Scarlett

Soft sweet and creepy

Hushed and very gentle

Her words are usually followed by a hush giggle

No matter how threatening she sounds there is always a sweet smile and giggle at the end

She likes the idea of toying with people so her voice always sounds so eel coming at first

Then her sadistic side kicks in and she’s stepping on you with her heel her voice drowning with pride

During those dom moments she can sound very degrading

Talking to you like you’re beneath her instead of an equal

But normally she is nothing short of kind

Even in yandere mode she never shouts or yells or does anything like that

It’s always calm collected and lightly frightening

Definite mother vibes

Just very nurturing

Yuuta

A deep voice member

Full delinquent

“Got something to fucking say to me?”

Aggressive as all hell

At least to strangers that is

To his darling or his twin it’s still lightly rough but also soft? I know confusing

He tries hard to keep that tough guy act up but when anxiety and everything hits he’s a mess

“E-eh!? W-why are you starin’ at me for!? G-go away!”

Hella paranoid all the time

During those anxious moments his stutters and tics are ranging in tone and pitch

He has various tics such as popping sounds, crude phrases like “no more daddy! Nope nope!” Or even “f-f-fucking c-cocks” and many others he can’t control these and they only come during panic attacks

Some of his other phrases are things he’s said as a child when his family would violate him so lot of them have the word stop and no in it

A “cute” one is if you were to say “whose a pretty boy” he would instantly reply “I’m a p-pretty b-boy!” Oddly enough that tic always makes him feel better and calm down

Anyways normal voice yuuta is tough boy

He scoffs a lot and plays this very dominating role

He likes to say nicknames like doll or angelface

Makes him feel tough

He usually tries to sound as sarcastic as humanly possible

But when he’s sad or vulnerable he whines so loud and is so clingy

“D-don’t leave me along! T-the monsters are g-gonna get me! Nooo! P-please!”

He’s like a scared child clinging to you sobbing and trying to jump in your arms just shaking

Yuuji

Also a twink voice

Except his has more sparkles in it

Kinda valley girl tone but not as annoying

Just a lot of “oh sweetie” and “honey no”

Super sugary sweet like so sweet and fake it could kill ya

Behind closed doors though

That sugary tone is the same just sadistic

“Oh sweetie, whose a sad little ball of trash? You are! Yes you are my little parasite!”

Talks in baby talk when degrading his darling and yuuta

They are beneath him in his eyes he’s god

So he should be treated as such

When pissed off his sweet tone stops and it’s pure disgust

“You bottom feeder, do you know who you’re fucking talking to?”

His pissed off voice would give you shivers from how cold it is

He can switch from angry to sweet and back again so fast like one minute he’s threatening to violate every hole you own and the next he’s like “I’m sorry! I’m being a big old meanie pants! Teehee let’s goooooo shoppinggg! Yayyy!”

Likes making his voice as cutesy as possible

Mostly cause when he switches to his more serious side the fear in their eyes is much more delicious

Ren

Y’all already know

Stutters every sentence

Can’t even form proper words without stuttering

Growls in anger when annoyed and sounds like he wants to rail you so hard you break

All around soft sweet voice

Whimpers every single time he speaks

When annoyed or gets more confidence his voice is soft but sharp

“You shouldn’t do that. Stop.”

Very short and quick like you better listen to him or else

His voice goes dead and his eyes show no mercy

He keeps his voice low and warm though

When happy he is just so warm and bright

Absolutely adorable

When ranting there are no stutters or anything he can talk for hours if you let him

Loud as fuck in bed though

Full on sobs and cries so loud the neighbors hear y’all

His voice cracks and squeaks as he pants heavily and tries not to pass out

All in all

Shy boi

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere

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savethelastdan · 3 years

Text

Yashahime Is Over Party: Contribution #2

“All right, all right!”

The crowd of villagers quieted (some with a wince) as the high-pitched shout rang around the village entrance. Ten-year-old Moroha gave them one last warning glare for good measure.

With, as her Great-Grandpa on the other side of the Well would say, “more gusto than should be necessary”, she then leapt upon the nearest height-offering surface - one of the tourists’ suitcases, emblazoned a dozen times on every side with “FRAGILE” - and began her welcome speech.

“Shut your mouths and hold onto your butts, folks, because this is a real treat! The coolest village ever to exist in any timeline, on a sunny day! Since my big brother is at kitsune academy today, you all have the honor of yours truly acting as escort around this prime piece of feudal real estate!”

Dramatic pause for emphasis. (Yes, she’d taken some liberties with the script that Shippo had left, and she didn’t quite know what ‘prime piece of real estate’ actually meant, but her cousin Towa agreed that it sounded fancy and fancy always worked with humans.)

A soft-faced young woman glanced around the crowd self-consciously before raising a hand. “You mean, this is the village where priestess Kikyo - “

“Ahem!” Moroha held up the wooden sign hanging from her neck, tapping the carved-in letters spelling ‘Village Tour Guide #2” with one nail. “Are you wearin’ the sign?”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.” The woman blushed.

After a moment, Moroha cleared her throat. “Okay, yeah, it is. But there’s a bunch of other super-cool people here, too! If you wanna meet them - follow me!” With that, she jumped from the suitcase to land solidly in the dirt. A few tourists reared back from the cloud of disturbed dust, putting them at the back of the moving crowd.

“First up, the sister of the blah-dee-blah-famed-priestess-blah-dee-blah Kikyo - Lady Kaedeeeeee!” She swung both arms in a dramatic half-circle towards the healer woman’s hut; the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed appropriately. “On days like these, she’s either healing a sick patient, birthin’ a new baby, or taking a long nap! Since she’s awfully old, the napping’s more frequent.” Hooking an arm around a teenage tourist’s shoulder, she hissed in a spooky tone, “Some say she’ll live forever, getting older and older until she’s like a living zombie-”

“I heard that.” With a cross expression, Kaede leaned out of the window.“Don’t think I won’t curse you for those bad manners.”

Moroha waved the group on with a nervous chuckle.

“And this is the home of the most famous demon slayer known to womankind - Sango!” Cupping both hands around her mouth like a bullhorn, Moroha drew out the last syllable of the woman’s name to emphasize her coolness. Several of the humans perked up with excitement; it wasn’t hard to imagine that they had themselves benefited from some of the woman’s work.

“Her husband Miroku lives here too. He used to be a monk, but now he’s a family guy! My papa says -” She straightened, putting on a deep, gruff tone - “it’s a damn miracle -” Dropping the tone, she grinned cheerily at the group - “nobody will tell me why!”

As if on cue, the door to the house opened to reveal a group of tall, bickering young adults. The loudest were two women with matching features, the only visible difference to a stranger being that one’s slayer outfit was trimmed in pink and the other’s in green. Behind them trotted a younger boy, also wearing a slayer outfit in red.

“I’m taking the kusarigama, you’re taking the wakizashi!” The green-outfitted slayer said, ignoring her sister’s attempts to talk over her. “Otherwise you and Mom will have two long-range weapons, and that makes no sense!”

“Plus that’s Uncle Kohaku’s specialty!” Their brother piped up; he dodged the twin elbows that swung back at him as easily as if they’d warned him. “She wants to impress him with it so he’ll take her on his trip to the mountains with Rin this summer!”

Through the left-open door, came the sweet smell of treats baking - one of the many hobbies Miroku had taken up with his time, now that he wasn’t going to up and die (Moroha knew she wasn’t technically supposed to know about that. Or probably phrase it like that… But if her godfather Koga said it that way, why was it any different for her?)

The group of slayers stopped short upon seeing the crowd; with awkward bows, they quickly skirted their way around the gaping tourists.

““That’s Sango’s kids; every one of ‘em demon slayer prodigies.” Slinging her arm around the same teen from earlier, Moroha shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “Makes me almost want another sibling. Except then I’d have to share my room, nooooo thank you!”

“Excuse me.” A mustached man in the middle of the group raised one arm curiously. “I heard one of those women mention Rin - is that the human who died twice and was resurrected by the sword Tenseiga?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s Rin.” Moroha tapped her own head thoughtfully and muttered under her breath, “Was it really only twice…”

“Does she still live here?” The man’s mustache drooped in a frown. “Or did she go to live with that dog demon?”

“Dog demon? Ohhh, you mean Uncle Sesshomaru!” A smile stretched across her face. “I almost forgot about him! Nah, after she got married she decided to stay in town -”

“Married?!” The group erupted in murmurs of horror. One kerchiefed mother clapped her hands over the ears of her daughter; the mustached man turned green.

Moroha’s face fell. “Well, yeah. She wanted to keep taking healer lessons from Kaede, and even though he travels a lot, she wanted to stay by Kohaku’s side when he comes home. Be a team, and all that.”

“Ohhhh, so she’s Kohaku’s wife!” The human mother’s shoulders slumped with a sigh. “How lovely and age-appropriate.”

Moroha wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it made the negative energy go away then she was all for it! “Rin’s super cool, anyway. She knows how to heal demons, not just humans, and she tells really good ghost stories, and she’s actually really good at arm-wrestling -”

Suddenly she ducked her head to whisper, “She’s probably my favorite cousin, if I’m bein’ honest with ya.”

“Do you have other cousins?” A man who appeared to look a thousand years old squinted in her direction. Perhaps in confusion, but it was hard to tell with all the wrinkles. “I doubt a full-blooded dog demon like that Sesshomaru fella would leave his legacy in the hands of a human girl.”

“My mom would say that’s prejudiced,” Moroha said helpfully, causing the old man to blanche. “But Rin’s got two little sisters, who you can see riiiiiiight now!”

With a dramatic twist, she whirled around to point in the opposite direction with both hands, adding a low growl that was meant to mimic the roar of an excited crowd.

The moment was slightly underwhelmed by the confused looks of the tourists as they took a moment to figure out where exactly to look. That’s okay; she’d work on it.

Down the road, her twin cousins leaned against the wall of a house (Moroha’s house, which she was saving for last because you always save the best for last). Towa was smiling and pointing out something up in the sky, while Setsuna wore a very predictable scowl. From this far away, the red streaks in their hair were little more than smudges.

The extremely old man with an attitude problem made a weird hacking noise, most likely in surprise.

“Did he adopt them like your other cousin?” asked a teenage girl.

“Kinda!” Both hands landed on her hips; Moroha then modeled her expression on her Uncle - stoic, dismissive, oh-so-cool. “On a cool spring night, Uncle Sesshomaru walked into the darkest, deepest forest on the planet, waved his sword over a really old and creepy tree, and when he cut it open - there they were. Two lil’ hanyou babies.”

Dramatic pause.

“Just kiddin’.” Laughing loud enough to bring back the wincing from the group, Moroha slapped her knee. “They’re full demons. I can still take either of ‘em in a fight, though. Oh!” She pointed up in the air with a wide, excited smile. “There’s their mom right now!”

Murmurs of confusion filled the air as the tourists moved their heads this way, that way; only when a chilling breeze morphed into flesh and bone, right before their eyes, did the group exclaim in collective understanding.

Moroha waved. “Hi, Auntie Kagura!”

“Yo.” Clearly taken aback by the crowd, the wind demon gave a tiny salute. The side of her neck bore a half-moon symbol tattooed on the skin; Moroha thought it was neat, even if her dad thought it was a dumb, archaic wedding ritual. “Do your parents know you’re doing this?”

“Uh, duh!” She held up the sign with a cheeky grin.

“Fair enough.” Upon spying her daughters across the way, Kagura’s expression softened a bit. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

“No, wait! We’re actually heading the same way.” Gesturing to the not-moving crowd, Moroha repeated, “The same way. Meaning the best part of the tour - come on, folks, work with me here -”

Kagura snorted, walking quickly as though to avoid the gawking humans and their nosy questions about how she had been resurrected or could still live now that Naraku was dead or got Sesshomaru to admit he had feelings much less have kids with her. A curt “none of your business” was all they’d get, no matter how much Moroha tugged on her sleeve and whined about “giving people their money’s worth.”

Luckily, once they reached Moroha’s house, it was easy to escape. After all, a much more awe-inspiring attraction awaited the group of lucky, lucky tourists.

“And now! The Greatest Love Story Of Our Time!” With a winning grin, Moroha landed a kick on the door, sending it slamming open.

“Oh.” Kagome blinked at the group from where she sat on a futon in the middle of the house, surrounded by magical artifacts. A scroll marked with ink rolled from her lap all the way to one side of the room. Behind her, halfway through helping her put her hair in a bun, Inuyasha froze “Uh, hello?”

“My parents! Dumdedumdummmmm!” The warmth of her pride felt like it was going to burst in her chest. It was the absolute best to come home to people who loved her! Whether it was tickle fights before bed, or her dad taking her and Shippo out on demon-tracking trips, or her mom humming a lullaby if she felt sick on the full moon night, Moroha was certain her family was the best of anybody’s anywhere. “One fell through time, and one fell -- fell, uh, for her -- sorry, I’ll work on it.”

Inuyasha huffed in the way that meant he was going to complain later. Kagome just chuckled and waved.

For once, the humans reacted exactly the way Moroha wanted them to - smiling, clapping, appreciating the wonder of her super-beautiful-and-also-hella-powerful mom and grumpy-but-still-amazingly-brave papa. She launched into the story she knew by heart, of how they had come to be together and saved the whole world while they were at it. Some parts were probably missing or misrepresented, from the laughter in her mom’s eyes, but she had enough of it right that half the tourist group was in near tears by the time she was done.

“And now, they have one more accomplishment to add to the long list - parenting the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. Moro-uh, Beniyasha!” Swirling the ends of her fire-rat robe, she twirled. “The Crimson Slayer!”

“Slayer of my patience, maybe,” Inuyasha snapped, though he was unable to hide his smile as he marched over to grab her by the collar. “Come ‘ere, kid. You’ve got chores to do!”

Tossing her over his shoulder, he waved dismissively at the group of humans. “Sorry folks, the show ends here. Yeesh...”

Moroha cupped both hands around her mouth, screeching to be heard over her parent’s laughter before the door shut.

“Make sure to leave your comment cards in the box at the entrance!”

#moroha #setsuna #towa #kagome #inuyasha #miroku #sango #kinu #gyokuto #hisui #sesshomaru #rin #kohaku #kagura #yashahimeisoverparty #hnyisoverparty #yashahime #shespitsfire #savethelastdan

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woozisnoots · 4 years

Text

modest jeon wonwoo

° pairing: wonwoo x reader ° genre: university!au, host club!au, fluff ° word count: ~1.7k ° warnings: none! ° a/n: this had no business being this long and idek if i like it lol but I want to specifically dedicate this piece to @wonwoosimp bc she’s literally the sweetest, best bean in the world [insert uwu meme here] thank you for gifting me my very first photocard, I literally cried opening it! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy!

welcome to the svt host club!

masterlist!

you entered university with a certain goal, a purpose. eventually, you were going to be the pediatric surgeon that the 13 year old you ushered you to be.

…let's just hope the knowledge of your brain was enough to get you through the first four years of pre-med. with your 3.7 high school GPA, you were lucky to get into your first choice college, let alone your current major

from the start of the semester, you dedicated yourself to studying the anatomy and physiology of the body until you knew every nook and cranny there was to know. and the library was the perfect sanctuary to get your shit together

as much as you loved your roommates, their constant fights over closet space and boy toys gave you no peace of mind what-so-ever

bless the library for being opened 24/7. If your roommates found you sleeping on their only working desk, you would find yourself waking up to the sound of tripping freshmen trying to get to their first 8am class right in the middle of the hallway

but the lone table in the corner of the library just on the third floor did you good at staying focused. even provided some good naps in between every now and then

the day before your first anatomy test, you LOCKED yourself in the library. no one was going in OR OUT of the premise just to sit across from you on YOUR table until you fully memorized the different layers of epithelial tissue >:(

gosh, you even scattered all your notes across the table just so people got the memo that this seat was: [OFF LIMITS]

yes, off limits to everyone except a certain jeon wonwoo.

the way you met was abrupt to say the least

besides your table, you had a pretty good view of the entire campus — from the main health science building all the way to the student parking lot

and just below you, an astonishing sight of a mob of screaming girls chasing after a mouse guy in glasses. not to be inconsiderate and heartless, but unless you heard someone scream bloody murder, diving back into your flashcard you go

tissue after tissue, you start to get delusional because at this point, everything is starting to look the same

slumping down into your chair, you take a second to mentally recharge, drinking the water you’ve neglected for the past three hours

you time yourself for a five minute break, going through the notifications on your phone

before you could read your roommate’s ongoing ramble on the latest update of the “crazy good looking, god-like, elite host club that the university has to offer”

a ‘club’ that you didn’t even know anything about nor cared for

you hear a loud ‘thud’ coming from the bookcase in front of you

from the side the tall, lean guy with glasses that you saw earlier emerged with his hands gripping his tricep

you try not to draw too much attention to him. half the reason being you didn’t want to embarrass him by laughing at the fact he ran into a 10 feet tall bookcase

and you did not need this man distracting you. it’s your eight week streak being this productive, a new record for anything you’ve done in your entire life and your pride wouldn’t let you have it if you lost it just because you saw an attractive man on sight

you scribble down a decent guess to the tissue identification question that you’ve been stuck on for the past few minutes, not bothering to look up

“that’s actually dense connective tissue, not smooth”

jolting up from your seat, you look up realizing the guy 5 feet away is now right in front of your face looking down at all your papers

“you can tell because they’re striated”

you stare at him in disbelief wondering how he could have gotten so fast with just looking at it for a few seconds. eyeing him up and down, he definitely looked around the same age as you but he wasn’t someone you’ve seen around the science buildings. and you would know since you took the liberty of familiarizing almost everyone within the department

“do you mind if i sit here?” his hands already on the edge of the chair ready to pull it out from underneath him

“...yeah sure”

“oh i’m wonwoo by the way,” he says as you both exchange awkward stares and knowledgeable nods

okay well since he’s proven that he might be of help to you, you might as let him stay. from what you’ve gathered, he didn’t have any stuff on him aside from his phone that you watch him get out of his front pocket, getting ready to play pacman

forget how attractive he is, this guy has some brains.

for the rest of the day, as you guys sat across from each other, wonwoo would occasionally bounce back and forth between giving you study tips and playing whatever game he decides to play at that moment in time

he was surprisingly really good at this? he knew more things about the subject than your professors did, and that’s saying a lot. like you’ve been looking at cells for WEEKS and you were lucky to get at least half of them. which begs the question:

“how do you magically know all this?”

the blank expression on his face tells you he wasn’t expecting that question but he quickly shrugs it off. “i just know a few things from my parents that’s all”

you would have questioned him further but the time on your phone read “22:57” and you already broke your number rule about sleeping early before a big test

as you pack up all your stuff, wonwoo pushes his chair in, bidding you farewell

“good luck on your test tomorrow!”

you appreciate the gesture, mentally thanking him for his help and proceed to go back to your dorms, preparing yourself to tell your roommate all about the exciting? day you had

“YOU MORON. JEON WONWOO?”

laying flat on your back on your bed, you cover the bottom half of your face, quivering under your sheets as you stare at your roommate’s outrageous outburst

you explain what happened and who you met today at the library. when your roommate asked to describe him in more detail, all you said was that he was pretty smart for someone who wasn’t particularly in your major

your roommate lets out a loud scream into their pillow, gripping the bed sheets before giving you the earful of the century

“he’s just being modest. he’s a korean lit major but he’s one of the uni’s top students since both his parents are the head of the science department.

…AND he’s one of the most requested host club members. so you caught yourself one big fish today bud.”

top student? science department? HOST CLUB? none of that was processing in your brain. the one club that you wanted nothing to do with and you just happened to meet their top money maker

grand.

the thought didn’t keep you up at night only because you thought that today’s encounter was just coincidence and you probably would never have to see him again.

(sad though, your roommate was right. he is rather good looking.)

the time that it took for you to take your test the next day flew by so fast that you questioned if it even happened. the first step you took out the classroom, you start to second guess all your answers, regretting that you didn’t check a third or even fourth time before submitting

your train of thought halts when you see jeon wonwoo standing in the empty hallway

“i’m sure you aced it”

and just like in a netflix original romance movie, he reveals a bouquet of pink begonias from behind his back while shyly adjusting his glasses

“these are for you. to congratulate you”

weird way to phrase it but you were still gonna take the flowers. “host club tendencies?”

“so you found out?”

from a distance, you can hear the rushing footsteps from downstairs followed by a sense of purpose. “i think i was bound to” :/

you didn’t know how you felt about the current situation. you had no idea what host club was until you got here and you still don’t know what they even do. for all you knew, this could just be a gesture to get them more clients

but if his actions were genuine… you wouldn’t mind seeing him again

“i have to start learning muscles for our next exam. heard it was one of the hardest ones. i’m not sure if you have more studying tricks up your sleeve?”

“i might.” a cocking little grin now appearing on his face

“good. same place at the library tomorrow then. and this time? try not to bring your dedicated fans wherever you go”

so these study sessions continued. you guys occasionally had to change spots - from cafe to an empty bio lab - if the mob ever saw a single hair follicle that might be his

but each time, wonwoo brought something more just himself. one day it would be coffee, others days it would be food. things to keep you motivated.

for a korean lit major, he was taking a lot of time out of his day to help you, being attentive to all the strategies that help you study and such

possibly making your assumption from months back, true.

by the time finals rolled around, aside from the spursts of review here and there, study sessions became more casual. you didn’t feel the need to overwork our brain since you already knew all the information (something you actually learned from wonwoo himself)

possibly the last meeting you’d have with him was similar to your first: just you two together but him playing on his phone. and yet before the night ended

“i have a proposal.”

“i’m not giving you money for your dumb club.” bold of him to assume you would-

“no but i really appreciate the thought :)

why don’t we turn these study sessions into… study dates instead?”

your assumption after 6 months later: finally confirmed

“but that’s only IF you ace your finals.”

well let’s just say at the very end, you had a successful first semester and are now one step closer towards being the surgeon of your dreams.

plus, you even landed yourself a pretty cool boyfriend in the process

let’s hope his parents put in a good word for you when you apply to med school!

#seventeen #wonwoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen au #wonwoo au #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen series #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader

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