#I’m SCARED of HAIR DAMAGE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andypantsx3 · 7 months

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DEAD RECKONING : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: A makeup artist at a haunted maze, all you want to do is make it to the end of the season with a little extra cash in your pocket and no murder convictions on your record. Scare actor Todoroki Touya makes that last part a challenge. (7.8k) CONTENT & WARNINGS: no quirks au, halloween, enemies to lovers, fem + afab reader, slight scumbag touya, haunted maze workers, smut, semi-public sex, smoking, heavy swearing, touya likes having his hair pulled + girls who are a little mean to him, sort of good girl vs bad boy vibes, 18+ minors please dni NOTES: Happy Halloween from me!! This fic is part of the Willow's Haunted House collab. Dedicated to cat-slippered and ofmermaidstories, for workshopping what eventually became this fic with me about a thousand years ago. I’m sorry I turned Bakugou into Dabi. And I’m sorry for dedicating the now Dabi fic to you. But not sorry enough to not have done it. Love you. :)

If there was one thing you hated about Halloween, it was Todoroki Touya.

Shockingly, this was not a commonly-held sentiment, which was the only reason there even was a recurrence of Todoroki Touya darkening your Halloween seasons in the first place.

For the last three years, you’d spent your fall semester working as a makeup artist at the Musutafu haunted maze alongside a slew of other college and local kids looking to make a little extra cash. The hours were fairly flexible, and the wage covered your textbooks, with a little left over to keep you in the occasional coffee between lectures.

But your wages did not nearly cover the amount of psychic damage you had been dealt, managing Todoroki Touya’s obnoxious, sarcastic, chain-smoking ass day after day for seasons on end.

On lucky days, someone else was on Touya duty. But on unlucky ones, you found him sprawling in the plastic makeup chair opposite you, those intense blue eyes tracking you with no small amount of pleasure, like he was this afternoon.

You stopped in the doorway, a curse slipping out of you. You’d been hoping that you’d get lucky today, as the day was otherwise an excellent one. You’d invited a group of friends to do the maze with you after you got off shift, and you had been looking forward to it all week.

But it figured Touya could never let you have too good of a time.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he drawled over the noise of displeasure that escaped you. He was at least already dressed in costume, so he wouldn’t go smearing his makeup as he pulled it on, a tumble of stitches and frayed edges that had once been a dark-blue duster, but now just mostly gaped open to show the hard planes of his chest.

“I’m so sure,” you told him, averting your eyes from his pecs. You sighed, resigning yourself to his presence, and made your way in, dumping your bag on the staff room couch.

“This is a very hostile work environment you’re creating,” Touya rasped, his grin sharp. Years of chain-smoking outside the maze had left his voice even lower and raspier than when you’d first met him three years ago.

“Don’t worry, it can always get more hostile,” you told him, affecting your own sweet grin as you moved over to the vanity, digging through all the makeup and prosthetics for the ones he’d need.

Touya himself was severely scarred, which was likely why he’d applied to work at the haunted maze in the first place. You’d never asked him about his scars, but you’d heard enough gossip from the other maze workers to know that they were the product of a childhood accident, involving the burning down of his father’s—the then-and-current mayor’s—house.

He’d accentuated them with a shit load of facial piercings, and was sort of off-putting to look at the first time you caught a glimpse of him. The issue was that, once your eyes made sense of what they were seeing, he was infuriatingly handsome.

You’d heard he’d initially been unleashed on the maze with no makeup or prosthetics, and within the first evening was causing line backups, with all the parties of teen girls who were taking a little too much time lingering around his section of the maze.

So now he was subjected to prosthetics to make him uglier, a fact that he seemed to absolutely relish.

You dug out the monster prosthetic pack that gave him jutting forehead ridges. “Let’s make the outside reflect the inside, shall we,” you told him as you flapped the rubbery pieces at him, smirking your own little smirk.

Touya’s answering grin was wicked, and he relaxed back in his seat, sprawling his legs out wide in that infuriating way men had. “Think my outside is too pretty then, huh?” he asked, sapphire eyes flickering over you.

Your face went hot in a weird combination of anger and embarrassment. “I try not to think of your outside,” you told him pertly, making sure to slap the forehead piece onto him hard enough to make a splat noise.

His mouth twitched again but he let you go to work, gluing the pieces down against his face, careful not to press them to the seams of any of his scars. He was tall enough even lounging in his seat that you only had to lean over a little to focus clearly on his face, all long legs and rangy muscle.

This close, he always smelled like cigarette smoke, with an undercurrent of something rich and dark, like cinnamon or chocolate. You could never put your finger on it, but you were not about to go sniffing him at any length to figure it out, even if it was annoyingly appealing.

He’d probably love that, and would absolutely never let you live it down.

Touya’s eyes tracked you closely as you worked, but otherwise his expression was still, and you thought not for the first time that it really was too bad he was so obnoxious. He was actually quite handsome, with a soft, sensuous mouth, a blade-straight nose, and vivid blue eyes that all but glowed like the embers of a crackling fire when he was provoking you.

It was a shame he wasted all his beauty being the most annoying man on earth.

You’d heard from the other maze workers that he was relatively well-known around the area, having spent his teen years doing petty criminal shit to destabilize his father’s reelection campaigns, netting himself several jail stays and a record a mile long. He’d settled somewhat since he’d gotten a job at a piercing parlor downtown and several side gigs like the maze, but people weren’t fully convinced he’d abandoned his old ways, and he still clearly relished any opportunity to discomfort and destabilize anyone who got on his bad side.

Apparently including you.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard, sweetheart,” Touya said, those cerulean eyes blinking up at you.

You realized you’d paused over him, midway through blending his prosthetic forehead in, and another annoying little smirk rode his mouth.

You took care to roll your eyes at him, gesturing at him with your brush. “I know several places I can stick this if you’re not careful.”

Touya’s smirk melted into an unholy grin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he rasped, eyes glittering up at you.

You went back to work on him with a little more force than necessary, blending hard enough that you saw his broad shoulders shift in an effort to keep his neck braced. “I doubt any time with you could be classed as good,” you said pertly, giving a final few brushes before stepping back, satisfied with your work.

The forehead made him look unhinged as he offered another smirk, leaning forward. “True—the feedback I usually get is ‘incredible’, ‘mind-blowing’, ‘earth-shattering’, ‘toe-curling’, ‘scream-inducing’—”

“Oh I’ll scream if you keep talking,” you said hotly, even as your cheeks warmed. Even with the stupid fucking forehead he was annoyingly handsome. You needed him a thousand million miles away from you before you herniated something, jumping back and forth between annoyance and attraction.

Maybe it was time to stop signing up to work here.

“Now get out of my room, I have other people waiting,” you commanded, thankful when you heard the scuff of a boot at the door confirming another maze worker waiting.

Touya didn’t look at all chastened, but he unfolded himself from the chair in an unfurling of broad shoulders and long legs. He leaned in close as he passed, voice dipping low. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said, a smile curling his mouth.

Annoyingly, his proximity crossed a bunch of the wires in your brain, and you fumbled before managing, “Not if we’re both lucky.”

“Stop, I’ll blush,” he drawled, another unholy grin splitting his cheeks before he saluted two fingers at you and ducked out of the room. The scent of smoke and cinnamon followed him, and you let out a sigh of relief, the air and your brain clearer now that he was gone.

No sooner were you free of him, however, than another problem was immediately introduced.

“So…he actually talks to you?” The other maze worker’s head poked through the door, her eyes resting on you intently. You recognized her as a local highschooler who’d just joined this season, who usually ended up getting in early enough to get her makeup done by the other artist.

You blinked. “I…unfortunately?” you answered, confused.

She stepped into the room, and you reflexively gestured her over to the chair that Touya had just abandoned.

She hummed as she took her seat, eyeing you curiously. “Wow. How’d you get him to do that? He doesn’t really talk to any of us,” she informed you.

You could feel your eyebrows lift towards your hairline. “He…doesn’t…?”

She shook her head, her pretty golden ringlets swaying with the motion. “He’ll chainsmoke with Tomura and he sometimes talks to Himiko. But the other girls—they say he just laughs and walks away if they try to chat with him.”

Well. That sounded rude enough to be true to form, you thought. But when Touya was in your makeup chair you couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. You shifted, uncomfortable with the idea that Touya had any special soft spot for you. Maybe, like a cat, he could sense who didn’t much like him and decided to latch on out of spite.

“You might be a little young for him,” you decided, going over to the vanity and digging out the prosthetics she’d need—a witch chin and a raised gorey slash that would open along one cheekbone.

“No—it’s all the other girls too. And most of the guys,” she told you. “He must like you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you turned back to her with the prosthetics in hand, a few new brushes and a white, cakey paint palette shoved beneath your elbow.

“I don’t think he likes anyone,” you told her, setting everything down and applying the tacky glue to the underside of her chin prosthetic. “I think he just likes to inflict himself on people he knows it will annoy. You could act disinterested in talking to him and he’d probably come flitting right over.” The image of Touya suffering at the hands of a league of flirty high school girls pleased you—better they suck up his time and energy than you.

“I don’t know,” the girl said uncertainly. “Maybe he likes you.” But she was forced to leave it at that once you started applying her chin, making it difficult for her to speak.

You certainly didn’t think that was the case.

But the seeds of doubt had already been sown, a question that you thought would probably haunt your evening now that it had been formed. Just why did Touya talk to you if he was so standoffish with other people? And what did it mean that he made such a point of it?

You knew for sure it wasn’t because he liked you, his obnoxious manner said that well enough. But why did you get treatment that was significant enough that even the other maze workers would comment on it?

And, perhaps even more concerningly, why did the thought agitate you so much?

You decided to try your best not to think about it, and have a good time with your friends once they got there, putting Touya out of your mind. You returned to doing the girl’s makeup with vigor, suddenly as eager to get her out of your chair as you had been Touya.

She was finished in record time and she thanked you, carefully not to smile too widely lest she dislodge the prosthetics. You took in the next person waiting as she left, slowly working your way through the line of people as the hour drew ever closer to the maze’s evening opening time.

Eventually you finished up and collected your things, making your way out front to find your friends already waiting for you. They’d clearly dressed with the intent to go out after—something you hadn’t considered—their dresses short and slinky and their makeup smoky. You’d have liked to have joined, but you were still in the sweater and leggings you’d come straight from lectures in.

Maybe you would have time to go home and change after the maze.

You were scooped up into several hugs, breathing in the sweet scents of various perfumes, and informed that you absolutely did have to go home and get changed after so you could come out and get “Hallowasted!” too.

“Okay if I’m not busy peeing my pants, which monsters are the ones you did?” your roommate asked, dancing around to warm herself in the cool fall air. “I wanna see ‘em.”

You named several of your creations, conveniently leaving off Touya. You knew that if your friends took too close a look at him and figured out what he looked like under the cakey makeup and forehead prosthetic, they’d never leave the maze. You knew he sat somewhere around the end of the set up, in an alcove that had been decorated to look like an abandoned village with burned out cabins, a mess of bones dotting the ground at the side of the walkway.

You were also hoping you could pass unnoticed in the group of your friends, as there was no doubt in your mind that Touya would take special care to annoy you in particular. So you did not want your group to linger long enough for your friends to scope him out.

You would know it was him under the makeup you’d done yourself, but being cornered somewhere in the dark with the soundtrack of screams echoing in your ears would not exactly have you feeling your boldest.

Your group had dinner at the food trucks parked out front, chatting and laughing and waiting for the crowds to die down, each indulging in one drink for bravery before joining the line. Eventually you ended up at the front of the queue, late in the evening, your friends crowding in behind you, whispering nervously.

“You first,” your roommate hissed when you looked back at them questioningly. “You work here, you have to do the honors.”

You sighed, accepting your fate, making a mental note to subtly shift to the back of the pack as you made it further into the maze.

Then you were being greeted by Shigaraki Tomura, whose makeup you’d done last. He’d been given layers of prosthetic peeling skin and a scar at his mouth, and he was decorated with a layer of disembodied hands gripping him all over. He shredded your tickets, looking unenthused.

“Remember that inside the maze, none of the monsters can touch you,” he recited dully. “You are not permitted to touch them in return; do not hit, kick, push, bite, slap, lick, scratch, or otherwise assault the actors. Don’t tamper with the props, do not leave items behind. Be respectful of other guests and do not linger too long in the rooms. If you need to leave for any reason, every room or alcove has clearly-lit exits marked in red.”

His eyes briefly met yours as he waved you through, and you thought you saw a pale brow go up.

But then you were being shoved forward by your friends, several hands clinging to your arms and the back of your shirt, and you stepped forward into the dark of the hall.

The maze truly was a labyrinth—it started indoors in a pitch black room, with fake body bags hanging from the ceiling. Toga Himiko, a highschooler whose makeup you usually did, stalked you around the edges of the room, dressed in a torn school uniform with fangs peeking out of her widely grinning mouth, and a dripping knife clutched eagerly in her fingers.

Once you made it past her, the maze spilled outdoors, into a tangle of hedges and artificially-constructed set, steering you in twisting loops around the property.

You were pleased with how terrifying all the actors looked, even having done most of their prosthetics yourself, and found your heart racing as you took every new corner, found yourself freezing up and stumbling back whenever someone jumped out at you, suppressing a shriek.

Your friends participated with gusto, shrieking and ducking away from the monsters, holding you like a human shield between them and the maze workers. You would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so funny.

You made it through most of the maze with little trouble, passing through a haunted swamp, a graveyard with mummies twisting and screaming in their bindings, grasping for you. You stumbled past a man wielding a chainsaw and a set of clowns waving axes, making it through in record time thanks to the push of your frantic friends behind you.

It was only on the last leg of the maze that you finally ran into Touya.

You peered around the corner, recognizing the set up instantly. The burned out houses flickered with blue flame, lighting up the set in an eerie, unsettling sapphire light. The fake bones on the ground sat in piles of ash, glowing stark white in the light. You couldn’t spot Touya anywhere, and you slowly crept forward, trying to shepherd your friends in front of you.

You even almost thought you had been successful, until a rasping voice drawled behind you, “Hello sweetheart.”

And then your roommate screamed, bolting forward, knocking into you and sending you stumbling over a pile of the fake bones. You landed hard on your ass in the patchy grass, the wind punching out of you.

“Oh fuck—” you heard one of your friends say as she too was steamrolled, and you watched the group of them trip over one another in their desperation to get through the alcove, dissolving into chaos in a matter of seconds.

You quickly tried to get to your feet to follow, but a hiss forced its way through your teeth when you tried your ankle, a wave of sharp pain washing over you.

Oh fuck. Not good.

The tread of a boot in the grass next to you made you jump, and your head whipped up to catch sight of Touya crouching over you.

“You good down there?” he asked. His eyes glinted in the dark of the maze, and the blue light cast shadows over his features, twisting them in the dim. Your heartbeat picked up, even as your brain recognized him for who he was.

You cringed, embarrassed that you’d had to hurt yourself in his part of the maze specifically. It figured.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to climb to your feet again. Your ankle twinged in protest, and Touya must have caught the flash of pain on your face because then his hand was under your elbow, supporting you as you rose in an unexpected show of courtesy.

Although he broke the illusion immediately when he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah you look real fine,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. With the prosthetic forehead it made him look sort of demented.

“Well I’ll be fine,” you insisted, even as those blue eyes flickered over you assessingly. His fingers tightened a little on your arm before he bent down, tapping his other hand on your leg.

“Which leg, sweetheart?” he asked. “And where?”

It took you a minute to catch up to what he was asking, confused at seeing him on his haunches before you. A scream went up in the background, some terrified maze goer, and a little shiver went down your spine.

“Uh, the left ankle,” you supplied, startling when Touya’s fingers slid underneath the cuff of your legging over the aforementioned ankle, rolling it up gently. You blinked, surprised at the careful touch.

“Can’t see too well in the dark,” he announced. “But it looks like you ripped it open on something.” He peered back up at you. “Think it’s sprained?”

You shook your head. “Probably just rolled. It hurts but not like go-to-the-hospital level,” you said. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be good.”

Touya considered you for a moment, then got to his feet, moving closer. That scent of smoke and cinnamon drifted over to you, and he bent his head to look into your face.

“Much as you’re the most terrifying thing in this maze, I don’t think people are gonna wanna see you here,” he told you, a smirk cutting into his mouth. “Would ruin the experience. So we’re gonna have to get you out of here.”

You scowled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. Well no thanks for the concern, then. “I’m going, I’m going, keep your shirt on,” you told him, preemptively gritting your teeth before readying yourself to take another step.

But before you could, one of Touya’s hands was suddenly sliding under your knees, his other slipping behind your shoulder. In the next second the burning buildings were swinging wildly in front of your eyes, and then you were being hefted up into Touya’s arms. You let out a startled yelp, your own hands shooting out to grab his jacket, giving him a wild-eyed look.

“Touya—!” you garbled out, as a smile pulled at his expression.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he told you, looking a little too smug about the situation he’d just put you in. He strode towards the exit, kicking the door open with a heavy boot, carrying you down the hall and back into the building. He was hard with wiry muscle underneath you, and so deliciously warm against you. Your ears went hot with every sure, easy step he took, like carrying you was little effort for him.

Thankfully it was barely a minute before you reached the staff room, where Touya laid you out gently on the couch, much more carefully than you might have expected from him.

Your cheeks and your nose burned, flaming even hotter when he squatted down in front of you and took your ankle in his hand again.

His dark eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took note of your injury. In the light you could definitely see that you’d caught your ankle bone on one of the fake bones you’d tripped over, as there was a long gash up the side of it, but nothing else looked bruised or otherwise concerning. You thought you’d probably be fine in a couple hours, just a roll.

It was definitely nothing Touya had needed to princess carry you through the staff halls for!

“Don’t move,” Touya told you, and you watched, bewildered, as he stepped away, stalking over to the other side of the room where the staff lockers were. He dug out a shabby backpack, pulling something out of it, and then returned to your side, spreading out his haul on the couch next to you.

You noted a little tube of rubbing alcohol, an antiseptic cream and a bandage, as well as an ice pack. One of your eyebrows went up.

“You rob a hospital or something?” you asked reflexively, heart fluttering a little bit weirdly when Touya’s eyes flickered back up to yours. His eyelashes were long and thick, startlingly pretty.

“Nah,” he said, his gaze cutting suddenly away from yours. “Usually keep shit on hand for my burns.”

Your stomach flipped, and you realized how rude your question had been. Embarrassment welled up in a hard lump in your throat. Well shit. “Oh—fuck. Of course. I’m sorry, Touya.”

A pinch to your leg had you yelping, and his handsome face was serious when he stared back up at you, his eyes practically glowing with intensity. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing the skin he’d pinched absentmindedly. “It wasn’t sympathy, asshole,” you said. “It was an apology for being thoughtless. Although if that’s how you’re gonna be then I take it back, geez. As if you need sympathy when every girl in this maze—” you froze, clamping your mouth shut when you realized what you’d been about to say. “Uhhhh.”

Touya’s eyes slowly slid down your face, flickering over you as another fucking obnoxious smirk started to twitch at the side of his mouth. “When every girl in this maze what?” he asked, pleasure turning his tone a little silky.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to grab the rubbing alcohol off of the couch so you didn’t have to look at him. “When every girl in this maze would like for you to shut up and stop asking questions,” you said, unscrewing the top with a deliberate focus.

Calloused fingers came up to yank the tube out of your grip, however, and Touya leaned in, his grin sharp and white.

“Lemme do it, sweetheart. Return the favor for my prosthetic,” he said. You winced, remembering how forcefully you’d applied his forehead earlier. As you braced yourself, however, his fingers brushed gently over your skin.

You suppressed a shiver at the feeling of him wiping off the blood with the rubbing alcohol, then going over it with the antibiotic cream, smearing it delicately, your nose going hot again. He took his time, careful to cover every inch, kneeling on the ground in front of you with your ankle clutched in one large hand. His duster fanned out behind him, dragging on the ground as he bent over you, but he didn’t seem to care, too absorbed in his task.

When he was done he carefully applied the bandage too, and you looked on, mystified, as he cracked the ice pack with long, strangely elegant fingers, and pressed it over your ankle bone as well.

His eyes flicked back to yours when you let out a short hiss, feeling the zing of the ice all the way in your teeth. Some of his expression looked squashed, given the obstruction of his prosthetic, but you thought he looked maybe just a little bit concerned, before he realized you were just being a baby. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to rip off his prosthetic so you could see his expression in full, and had to pin your arm to your side to stop yourself.

“This was—unexpected,” you admitted, watching him closely. “You’re…a surprisingly good nurse, Touya. Thank you.”

His answering smile was nothing short of wicked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

You fumbled with the antiseptic and sniffed pointedly, just to have something to complain about. “Well. Your bedside manner could use some work.”

Touya leaned in, his smile suddenly going dark. “Oh, angel, now that’s not what I’ve been told—”

Your palm shot out to cover his mouth, horror overriding your normal brain function. Touya just laughed into the skin of your hand, however, shockingly boyish and sweet-sounding.

You pressed harder, hissing at him to shut the hell up, until you registered the feeling of dry, raised skin under your fingers. You jumped, realizing you were pressing down on his scars.

“Shit, did I hurt you—?” you asked, yanking your hand back, only for Touya to catch your wrist. He blinked, looking surprised that he had.

“No it’s—you didn’t—” he said. His fingers shifted over yours and his eyes darted over your hand in something like shock. “They get dry and pull but they don’t—it wasn’t that.” He sounded annoyed, but not that you’d touched him. That you’d pulled away from touching him.

Somehow, that settled you. Before you understood what exactly was possessing you, you reached back in, satisfied when Touya let you. The pads of your fingers met the edge of a scar again, feeling along the seam. You carefully traced over it the way Touya’s had just traced the cut on your ankle.

Touya’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a slow breath. “You don’t need to touch ‘em, sweetheart,” he said finally.

He said it as lightly as he’d said all his earlier nonsense, but he’d been giving you shit for long enough that you recognized there was something deliberate about the ease of his tone this time. This wasn’t his usual, natural timbre.

“Does it bother you?” you asked.

It seemed to take him a minute to decide.

“...No,” he answered, those cerulean eyes catching on yours again. You felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your own fingers, and your skin prickled with something—annoyingly not annoyance.

“Well then shut up,” you told him. “Or I’ll pinch you right on the seam.”

Touya laughed, a slow rolling sound. “Promises promises,” he said, but he seemed more relaxed.

You felt along the contours of his face, mystified by what the hell you thought you were even doing, until you reached the edge of the prosthetic you’d applied. It only took a second for you to give in to the impulse you’d had earlier and start peeling it from his skin, slow and deliberate.

You reached down and helped yourself to the rubbing alcohol, applying it around the prosthetic, letting it dissolve the adhesive before pulling gently. Shockingly, Touya let you do it. He just sat there, watching you with an intensity you’d never experienced before, hardly blinking.

You kept careful track of the prosthetic, unable to look him in the eye, focusing on rubbing off the makeup you’d used to blend it in for good measure. You tried not to examine the weirdly satisfied feeling that settled in your stomach when his natural face was visible to you again.

It was probably just his looks. He really was so handsome for such a grating personality.

You set the prosthetic aside, lost on where to go from here. Touya probably thought you were so fucking weird for just like, rubbing his face like he was some kind of cat. He certainly looked like he had no idea what to do now, which was such a departure from his usually snotty self-assurance that it threw you for an even bigger loop.

“Always thought you’d be a little rougher with me, sweetheart,” Touya finally managed, flashing you a smirk. It looked a little smaller than usual though, like he was drawing it up like a shield, but your hackles raised instantly, like always.

You always, always responded to him.

“Trust me, that can be arranged,” you promised darkly, trying to crack your knuckles. Only one of them crackled obligingly, however, and Touya blinked, before laughing again.

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in closer. Cigarette smoke and cinnamon clouded your senses, fogging up your brain. “Gonna fuck me up nice and good, sweetheart?”

You dredged around for something snarky to say, but words were suddenly failing you as those infuriatingly pretty features drew closer. Seriously could a makeup artist not catch a break around here?

“Uhhh,” was all you managed, your brain bluescreening, as Touya huffed a laugh, exhaling over your mouth.

“Shut up,” you finally spat out, catching a fistful of that black hair. Touya groaned, however, looking like he liked that of all things, and a red hot flash of something jolted through you.

There was a pause, then, a tiny sliver of a moment where it seemed like one of you might pull back—move away and snipe at one another from a safer distance.

Things somehow seemed to be spiraling out of control, in a way you hadn’t expected, after just one kind gesture from him. You didn’t really understand how you’d suddenly found yourself with him leaning over you, your hand pulling at his hair, but if you had any good sense you’d have pulled away immediately and told him something extra mean, just for good measure.

Except then Touya opened his mouth and escalated things, as usual.

“Make me,” he said, the most absolutely heinous line of all time. You yanked his hair harder, deeply disgusted that he’d try that on you.

And then, like a thread had snapped, you leaned forward and crushed your mouth to his.

Touya reacted like a lightning strike. He surged up over you, weighing you down into the staff room couch. He tasted like spearmint muddled under bitter smoke, and he was broader than he looked under that duster, heavy with lean muscle. You could feel every kilo of it press you down into the cushions as Touya licked hot and filthy into your mouth.

His tongue curled around yours, wet and teasing, and he exhaled on a groan like he’d never tasted anything better. It sent little sparks of electricity jittering up your spine, especially as he shifted between your thighs, that trim waist slotting between them perfectly.

“Fuck, angel,” he said, his tone somewhere between sweet and nasty. “Wanted me this whole time, huh?”

You yanked harder on his hair, telling him to shut up, but the swelling of something hard against your thigh told you he only liked that more. “You are so nasty,” you told him, and you could feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against the side of your face, before he leaned in and bit the shell of your ear, grinding the evidence of his interest even harder into your thigh.

“I can show you nasty, sweetheart,” he promised, his tone going silky-soft again. A calloused hand slid up into your shirt brazenly, long fingers teasing the underside of your bra. When you didn’t immediately try to yank him out of there he wiggled in further, until his fingers met your nipples, and he got even harder against your leg.

He pinched carefully, moving back to kiss you again so that the sound that escaped you was muffled into his mouth. He kissed you harder as your nipples tightened, pebbling in his fingers, something far too satisfied filling the air around you. His hips canted up, grinding himself into you again, this time a little closer to your core.

Your own hips shifted, moving to increase the friction, trying to shift him closer to your center. His fingers and tongue teased you, each flick of his tongue mirroring the caress of a finger, the soft pinch of his index and thumb.

You couldn’t have controlled yourself if you wanted, too focused on the sensations he was drawing from you, the desperate need to get closer to him though you were already pressed together from mouth to shin. You realized you’d been pulling at his coat when he finally withdrew from your shirt and let you yank it down his arms, exposing a patchwork of scars over dense, mouth-wateringly well-defined muscle.

You inhaled sharply, and Touya paused for a minute—until he seemed to realize that you were fixated on the shape of his arm, rather than the purple bruise of scar tissue. The quickening of his grin in the corner of your vision told you that you’d pleased him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Want to see the rest of me, angel?”

You ripped your eyes off of his arm to glare at him, which only made his grin wider. The fluorescent lights behind him limned his hair in a pale light, blinding you when he moved his head—and all of a sudden you recalled where you were and what you were doing.

“Here? No! Touya, anyone could walk in!” you said, trying to scramble out from beneath him.

Touya caught you around the thigh, hauling you back underneath him. You noticed he was careful to angle your leg up so you didn’t catch your ankle against the arm of the couch.

“This is far from the worst thing I’ve done in a public place,” he said, laying himself back out over you.

You pushed at his shoulder though, casting a worried glance back at the door. “I am not trying to get fired,” you hissed, even as you shivered with the delicious heat of him over you.

Touya sighed through his nose, and then heaved himself off the couch. You watched him seize the plastic makeup chair and haul it over to the door, stuffing it under the knob at an angle so that it held the lock in place. Then he turned around and prowled right back to you with predatory intent. Your stomach fluttered.

“Better, angel?” he asked, tone soft.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of nodding, but he seemed to know what you wanted anyway, leaning back in to kiss you fiercely.

You melted into the feeling of his mouth over yours, kissing him back just as passionately. You hated how good he was at that, hated how pretty he was under all those scars and piercings, hated how his obnoxious personality wasn’t even a factor in what you wanted to do with him right now.

Touya groaned again when you pulled at a fistful of his dark hair, and then you were dragging him down to the couch and climbing into his lap. Touya seized your left leg as you did, pointedly guiding your ankle away from the edge of the seat, and it only inflamed your desire for him.

“Like you a whole lot better like this,” he said into your mouth, as calloused fingers slid into your leggings.

Your reply was cut off by a moan as he traced his index finger lightly over the center of your panties, before pressing down firmly over your clit. A thousand little points of electricity lit up under your skin, and you shifted into his hand unthinkingly.

A smile formed against your lips, and it was only Touya’s hand making its way into your panties that suppressed the annoyed buzz that started in the back of your brain.

“You kick up such a fuss, sweetheart, but look at what you really think of me,” Touya purred as his fingers slid up into your incriminatingly wet folds. “All this for me, angel?”

You wanted to bite him for his cheek but you feared breaking the skin of his scars, so you settled for giving him a pointed look. He just laughed, his smile smug.

“I’ll show you what I’ve really thought of you too, sweetheart,” he promised, taking hold of your leg again to slide your leggings and panties down. He settled you back over the hard line in his pants, grabbing your hips and pulling you firmly down over it, grinning.

“Love when you’re a spitfire little fucking brat. I’ve imagined taking you right over the vanity every single day for the last three years, sweetheart. Taking you against the lockers and then right here over the couch. Fucking you so hard that you scream and everyone comes running in to see you squirming and crying and begging on my cock, and you want it so much that you don’t even care—”

He laughed when he felt you clench up in his lap, working to unbuckle his belt and free himself, immediately angling you over him. “You want that too, sweetheart? Want to see if I can make you scream so loud that people come to see what’s wrong?”

“My god you never shut up,” you told him, pointedly avoiding the question. In lieu of an answer, you shifted, guiding him to your center and sinking down onto him instead. You watched with satisfaction as he threw his head back and hissed at the feeling of you slipping down around him.

“Fffffffffffuck,” he said to the ceiling, a hand tightening in your sweater. You had to agree, gritting your teeth with the delicious slide of him inside of you, hot and thick and full and perfect. You leaned in, putting your mouth over the scar tissue on his neck, smirking when he exhaled shakily again.

“I think,” Touya huffed. “I should have put you over my lap three fucking years ago.”

You thought back to your first glimpse of him, flicking ash at you as he chainsmoked outside the maze entrance, and thought you would have probably gouged his eyes out if he had tried. Honestly he’d barely scraped together enough good will with his little ankle treatment as it was.

But maybe this is what that girl had been talking about, when she said Touya didn’t talk to anyone besides you. Had he really been more into you than he’d let on, these three years? Is that why he’d been at your throat this entire time?

The thought was lost when Touya’s hips lifted into yours, grinding himself into you just right, and your head fell back with a shivery moan. Touya’s mouth found the skin of your throat and sucked as he bucked up into you, picking up into a faster pace. You rocked back and forth over his lap, guided by Touya’s grip on your hips, relishing in the feel of him inside of you.

His fingers slid back down, brushing over your clit, and you bit down a yelp as he dragged his thumb over it firmly.

“That’s it,” he said, biting down softly on your neck. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You pressed a hand over your mouth instead as he slid in and out of you, those clever fingers working you deftly. He pinched softly, then swirled the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit again, groaning and pounding up into you. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Always want to hear your mean little mouth.”

“Touya—shut up—” you panted as he moved you how he wanted, played you like an instrument. Between his fingers and the hard press of him inside you, you felt like you couldn’t escape the pleasure, the feeling mounting within you. No matter how you moved your hips, his fingers were there to meet you, rubbing maddening circles, teasing you mercilessly, and he filled you so good that it felt like he was pressing against that spot from the inside too.

You writhed with the feel of him, as he steadily covered your neck and shoulders with marks of his attention. You couldn’t help but moan, much much louder than you would have liked, and Touya leaned back to look at you again, looking pleased.

“That’s it, yeah,” he said, another grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Louder for me, sweetheart. Want you to come for me.”

You huffed, unable to do anything but squirm in his lap, chasing the feeling closer, ever closer to the edge. You weren’t going to let his infuriating attitude ruin this for you, not when you were so close—

Without input from your brain, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of Touya’s hair again and his hips stuttered, slamming up into you with more force than he had previously. He looked a little shocked, and then a little dazed, and the grip he had on the side of your hip tightened almost to the point of bruising as he forced you down onto him harder, gasping.

“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart—fuck yes,” he rasped.

His fingers rubbed you harder, and his hips slapped up into you frantically. The uptick in intensity had your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, and you bit your palm to keep the sounds in.

Touya ground into you with a renewed fervor, and it was only another matter of seconds before something inside of you was being wrenched loose. You lost the grip on your control, every nerve ending in your body lighting up and coming alive, singing with pleasure. You seized up, crying, “Oh my god, Touya!” and then you were cumming hard, harder than you ever had, Touya’s talented fingers still working you, his cock still fucking you mercilessly.

Touya swore, spitting out your name like a curse, and then again in almost reverent tones, before he too was following you right off the edge. He slammed you down on him once, twice, and then he was cumming too—shivering against you as he held you tight against him.

The silence of the room around you was ringing, once you managed to return to yourself. Touya was a long, hot, hard wall of muscle between your thighs, his hair mussed and a patch of makeup you’d missed smearing into the hair at his temple. His cheeks were flush with effort over the seam of his scars, and he looked, irritatingly, even more beautiful than he usually did.

Like he could sense what you were thinking, the corner of his mouth rose as those cerulean eyes searched over you, blinking like a pleased cat.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I knew I liked you mean,” he said, his raspy tone rougher than normal.

“And I don’t like you at all,” you sniffed, though you knew the protest was pointless when he was quite literally softening inside of you. You let go of his hair, remembering yourself.

“Aww angel don’t be like that,” he drawled, his grin widening. He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss over your mouth. “I can make it up to you—all three years, if you’ll let me.”

You knew he felt your involuntary shiver, pressed up against you like he was. And that was definitely answer enough for him, as his smile went more handsome and boyish than you’d ever seen it. You hated that you liked it.

“I’ll clean up and clock out,” Touya told you, gingerly helping you off of him and back into your leggings, his eyes fixating a little too closely on your legs as you did so. “You tell your friends you’re gonna go home and rest that ankle. And I’ll pick you up out front, angel.”

You flushed, embarrassed that you’d completely forgotten that you were at work, and you’d intended to go out bar hopping after. But you figured you could be forgiven just this one time.

“Fine,” you said, though your insides were feeling a little fluttery at the thought of leaving with Touya. “But I expect penitence or there’s going to be a reckoning.” You supposed you were owed, for all these years of suffering.

Touya looked down at you from under his lashes, dark and beautiful and still as infuriating as ever. “I’ll give you my best, sweetheart. Over and over until you can’t even walk,” he promised, “Gotta keep you off that ankle, after all.”

You flushed again, yanking your sweater down over your leggings, and fled out the door. Touya’s laughter floated after you, sounding pleased.

You sped up your pace, your ears burning.

And if you were actually rushing not to get away from him, but to return to him sooner? Well, then, nobody needed to know that but you.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader #character: todoroki touya #andie's writing

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ickadori · 2 months

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++ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

[summary] compared to zayne’s colleague’s accomplishments, as well as his own, you’re feeling sorely unequipped to stand by his side at the banquet.

[cws] fem reader -> hunter reader. bit suggestive at the end, but otherwise sfw. unedited.

You were completely out of your element.

The banquet that you had accompanied Zayne to was everything you thought it was going to be: Prestigious, elite, and entirely out of your league.

Zayne had assured you that you looked the part, and you supposed you did with the getup he had helped you pick out. A beautiful dress that clung to you like a second skin, accentuating all your good points and dolling up your bad ones (Zayne always told you that you had no bad points, and you always told him to get his glasses prescription doublechecked). Your hair was done nicely, tucked neatly with pins that you had nearly been too scared to use in fear of damaging them. A diamond necklace, gifted from none other than Zayne on Valentines night, rested against your skin with a matching set of earrings.

Your heels were from a designer whose name you had failed to properly pronounce repeatedly, and they were just as beautiful as the dress, the perfect color and style to tie the look together nicely.

You looked the part alright, but you felt nothing of the sort. Your nerves had been churning in your stomach the moment you two made it to the venue, and that churning had kicked into tenfold with each introduction.

You met esteemed doctors who you had seen in news articles dozens of times to celebrate their accomplishments, professors that taught at universities you couldn’t even dream of getting into, classmates that screamed money and class with their dazzling white smiles, sparkling jewelry, and bumptious way of speaking.

And they met you, a hunter who had a knack for getting herself injured on the job and making her boyfriend’s stress load even heavier.

You hadn’t gone to college, nor had you held any other job besides being a hunter. You had known what you wanted to do from an early age, and the moment you had turned old enough to join the Hunters Association you ran off to take your test and get the process started. You were proud to be a Hunter and you loved your job for the most part, but standing here now in a room filled with people far more accomplished than you in every way imaginable, you felt…inadequate.

You solemnly sip at your champagne flute as you stand by Zayne’s side, his arm wound around your waist as he talks with one of his old professors. You had tried to keep up with their conversation in the beginning, but once the topic of research came up and the medical jargon came out to play you had tuned the both of them out.

“…like I’ve bored your plus one half to death.” Laughter brings you out of your thoughts, and a sheepish smile takes over your face when you see two sets of eyes focused on you. “My apologies, Miss, this old man just doesn’t know when to shut his trap, it seems. I guess it’s time I find another ear to blab off.”

“Oh, no, please stay, you’re fine! I’m sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.” The man waves you off with a gentle smile.

“You two should enjoy each other’s company before someone else comes to hog his attention.” He jokes. “It was nice seeing you again, Zayne, and please do think about visiting the college sometime to talk with a few of the undergrads. A lot of them revere you, you know.”

“I’ll give it some consideration, Professor Grinley.” With a few more words, Grinley is making his way to the other side of the room and Zayne is letting out a heavy sigh. “Have I ever told you that I love the fact that you can’t hide your disinterest?” You throw a halfhearted thrown his way.

“I hope I didn’t offend him - he sounded so excited to talk with you, too. Oh, now I feel bad.” His arm around your waist tightens just a bit.

“Don’t. I was just about to make our exit anyways if you hadn’t done it first.” He steers the both of you to the outskirts of the crowd, and your shoulders lose a bit of their tension when you feel like there aren’t so many eyes on the both of you. “Something has been bothering you all night and I haven’t been able to figure out what.”

He moves to stand in front of you, head angled down as he catches your eye. “Would you care to tell me?”

“It’s something silly, hardly even worth talking about.” You take another sip of your champagne, this time longer, and Zayne patiently waits for you to swallow and lower your glass back down.

“It’s not silly if it’s upsetting you.” He softly says, pale hand raising to tuck away an errant piece of hair. “Are you—”

“Dr. Zayne!” A bright flash makes you squint your eyes, and you huff at the event photographer before plastering a smile on your face as the both of you turn to face him.

“I never want to see another camera after tonight.” You say through a practiced laugh, and Zayne places his hand on your hip and gives a comforting squeeze. After the photographer has had his fill he’s moving onto the next person, bright light flashing on welcoming parties.

“We can head outside for some fresh air, if you want. The speech isn’t for another hour.” You give a slow nod.

“Yeah, I think—”

“Dr. Zayne! Can you answer a few questions regarding your latest surgery?”

“Dr. Zayne! It’s been so long since our last banquet - how are you doing these days?”

“Dr. Zayne!”

Knowing he’d walk away from the forming crowd with nothing more than a mildly polite ‘excuse us’, you nudge him a bit and give a small smile.

“Go ahead. I needed to use the bathroom anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, now go.” You shoo him to the crowd, not missing the way the corners of his mouth quirk down, and make your exit out of the hall. When the door shuts behind you, the noise goes down considerably, and you sigh as you lean back against it.

The walk to the bathroom is short, and you brace your hands on the sink’s counter as you stare at your reflection. You do look nice - well put together, which is a stark contrast to how you usually look when you’re out in the field with a blade in hand and muck on your clothes.

You’ve always felt like an outsider when it came to Zayne and his work, a little bit less than, and it had been one-sided issue on your part in the beginning of your relationship. There was always a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he could do so much better, and the media only enabled that voice to get louder and louder over time.

Zayne was a bit of a celebrity in his own right, so he often found himself on the topic line of some article or blog, and coupled with being attractive, his love life was usually always one of the main talking points.

You usually steered clear of those things, learning from the first time you had scrolled through an article featuring the both of you and saw many unsavory comments about you in particular, but words always had a way of getting back to you, no matter how much you ignored them.

You tried to pay it no mind -what did it matter that a bunch of strangers on the internet didn’t think you were good enough for Zayne- but it seemed like you couldn’t stop recalling all those things that had been said as you were forced to see just how big the gap was between the two of your worlds.

A sudden knock on the door makes you jump, and you call out a ‘just a second’ as you turn the water on to wash your hands. The sound of the knob turning makes you frown, and you turn your head to protest, only to stop when Zayne steps inside and closes the door behind himself.

“Zayne?”

“I believe I’ve finally figured out what has you upset.” You quirk a brow before pulling free a paper towel from the dispenser.

“Have you?”

“I have.” He takes slow steps towards you, head slightly angled to the side, and your hands fidget together as he gives you a slow appraisal. “And I’m here to tell you that it’s without merit.” He stops mere centimeters away, and you breathe in the scent of his signature cologne as you lean against the marbled counter. “That room full of, as you would say, snobby, elitist assholes—”

“—oh, I would never.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a ghost of a smile.

“—could never dream of holding a candle up to you and all that you’ve accomplished in your life.”

“That’s the thing, Zayne, I haven’t accomplished anything.” You stress. “All I’ve done is—”

“Save countless lives by exterminating Wanderers - likely far more than I have in all of my career.” Cold hands move to cup your cheeks. “I admire you deeply, truly. I’ll never know what I did to deserve someone as compassionate, brave, strong, smart, and as beautiful as you, but I’m eternally grateful.” His voice is low as he speaks, and you don’t miss the tinge of pink creeping into his ears and crawling up his neck.

Warmth blooms in your chest as he holds your gaze, and it quickly spreads throughout your whole body when cool lips press against your own. Your lids flutter shut as you arch into him, one of his hands flattening in the dip of your back to keep you pressed against him.

The kiss is much too frenzied for this public bathroom, and it seems that Zayne comes to the same conclusion as he reluctantly pulls away, but not before giving you another long, more chaste kiss.

The two of you part with a suctioned noise, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as the both of you struggle to catch your breath.

“Y’know,” you begin, “you’re awfully good at making me feel better.” An uncharacteristic glint sparkles in his eye, and you gasp when he tugs you even closer with a firm grip, his eyes locked onto yours as he lowers his voice.

“I assure you that this is nothing - just wait until I get you home.”

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #love and deep space x reader

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rynbutt · 12 days

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pierced. pt. 9 | spencer reid.

Spencer wakes up in hospital and he's relieved to see you by his side.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, hospital ward, mentions of gunshot wounds, stitches, bruising, etc. mild suggestive stuff.

a/n: im actually crying this is cute

Spencer didn’t recognise where he was at first.

His eyes blinked open slowly, the beeping of the heart monitor being the first thing he heard. The first thing he felt was much worse, like he had been hit by a bus. He let out a shaky breath, his abdomen aching painfully as he tried to sit up. He froze when he heard a soft sigh beside him. It took a lot of effort for him to move his head, but he finally did and his heart warmed at the sight of you, sound asleep with your head next to his thigh.

You had your hand loosely over his, your other hand tucked under your head to make the uncomfortable sleeping position a little more comfortable. Spencer lifted his hand from under yours, gently running a hand over your head. The contact was enough for you to wake almost instantly.

“Spencer?” You mumbled tiredly, sitting up straight in the hard plastic hospital chair. You looked at him and felt tears come to your eyes when he tiredly smiled at you, his hand still resting in your hair. You let out a breath of relief, grabbing his hand and peppering it with soft kisses. “You scared me.”

“I love you too,” Spencer’s voice was weak, but he wanted it to be the first thing he told you. It was all he could think about while he was lying in the grass, staring at the sky. Despite the immense pain, thinking of you helped soothe him.

“W-What?” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, furrowing your brows at him. Of all the things you expected Spencer to say, it wasn’t that. You thought he might say something witty or start apologising.

“I love you too,” he repeated, a little more confident this time. “I didn’t get to tell you and I was scared I would never get to… after I was shot.”

You let out a breath of a laugh as you stood up, cautiously leaning over Spencer to press a kiss to his forehead. You were far too nervous to touch him anywhere else, fearing you would cause further damage.

“You look exhausted,” he mumbled.

“That’s what a girl wants to hear,” you retorted playfully, sniffling gently.

Spencer held your hand, “I’m serious. You should go home… These chairs are awful.”

“I wanted to be here when you woke up,” you replied, smoothing some of his hair out of his face.

“And I’m awake now,” he whispered, “you need to rest.”

“If anyone needs to rest, it’s the guy who got shot,” you chuckled, sitting back down in the hospital chair, still holding his hand. Spencer gave you a disapproving look, you waved him off, “I’m fine, Spence. Really.”

“At least eat something,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“I’m fine-”

“I know you,” Spencer said, “you haven’t eaten since I’ve been out.”

You sighed in defeat, letting him gently cup your cheek, “I will go get the nurse first, then I’ll go get something to eat,” you compromised. Spencer knew he wouldn’t win with you so he agreed.

You pressed the call button, waiting for the nurse to arrive before you even thought about leaving Spencer’s side. She checked his vitals, assessed his wound dressing and asked him a couple of questions before leaving the two of you alone again. Spencer gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes with a smile, finally leaving to find something to eat.

You found a 24-hour Seven Eleven at the hospital food court across the road. You picked out a ramen bowl and a drink for yourself before you noticed the little cups of Jell-o in the fridge. Knowing it was Spencer’s favourite, you bought about four of them.

Spencer was sitting up when you got back, a slight pained expression on his face. The nurse had brought him some food and Spencer was not a fan of crappy hospital food. Spencer dropped his fork on the overbed table, giving up.

“Not a fan?” You chuckled.

“Tastes like a boot,” he grumbled.

You giggled softly before reaching into your plastic bag of goodies, “well, lucky for you, I’m the best girlfriend ever.” You pulled out the little cups of red and green Jell-o.

“Oh, I love Jell-o!” He exclaimed excitedly, reaching for the cups of Jell-o. He leaned cautiously toward you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled. You watched as he winced in pain slightly, moving back to comfortably sit lean on the bed. “Be careful, please. I just got you back, don’t go doing more damage.”

“Right,” Spencer nodded, peeling the plastic from the top of his Jell-o cup. He shoved a spoonful in his mouth, humming in delight, “way better.”

Spencer spent another 2 weeks in hospital for monitoring and you stayed by his side the entire time. Despite your protests, he pestered the nurses and doctors until they got you a more comfortable chair to sleep in. You still stayed awake to make sure Spencer got some sleep, refusing to rest until you knew he was asleep himself.

After giving him the all clear, the nurses and doctors gave you strict instructions to keep Spencer from hurting himself further and risk tearing his sutures. You knew getting Spencer to relax would be a mission in itself so you made sure to call Hotch to let him know and you took a full month off work to make sure Spencer was settled before you left him on his own.

“Guys, I can walk to the car,” Spencer protested as you and Morgan helped him into the car.

“Doctor’s orders, kid,” Morgan retorted, he looked at Spencer pointedly, “now, you’re going to listen to Y/N, right?”

“Yes, Morgan,” Spencer replied, rolling his eyes.

“Thanks for this, Derek,” you said, tossing Spencer’s bag into the backseat.

“It’s no trouble, pretty girl,” Derek smiled, “call me if you need anything or he’s getting on your nerves.”

“Will do,” you laughed.

Getting Spencer to the elevator and down the hall to your apartment proved to be more of a mission than you anticipated. Once you pushed your apartment door open, little Tofu came trotting up to the two of you, meowing relentlessly as if she was questioning where the hell you two had been.

“Tofu!” Spencer beamed as she rubbed up against his leg. “Mom and dad are home,” he cooed. It took everything in his power to not bend down and rub her belly, but he knew it probably wasn’t the best idea after he’d been shot.

You grinned at his referral of you as ‘Mom and Dad’ to your little fur baby. You helped Spencer to your room, helping him sit down on your bed. You kneeled on the ground, untying his laces (since he hated taking his shoes off with the laces still tied) and placing them neatly next to your much smaller sneakers in the closet.

“Alright,” you breathed, “I know you don’t like pain medication-”

“No,” Spencer warned. You knew what had happened a few years back and you never pushed him to take anything when he was in pain, but being shot sort of had unique circumstances.

“Oi,” you retorted, giving him a warning look, “at least take something mild so you can get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he sighed. You gave him a very mild medication, something you took when you had a headache or back pain. You knew it wouldn’t do too much but it would at least provide some relief.

“I’ll be just outside, call me if you need anything,” you kissed his forehead, helping him lay back in bed, pulling the covers over him gently.

“Could you stay?” he muttered softly, looking up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes. Your heart melted and of course you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you whispered.

You crawled into bed beside him, fishing around your covers for the remote and putting on some random documentary.

“I’ve seen this one,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s the point, Spence. If I put on a documentary you’ve never seen then you won’t go to sleep,” you chuckled.

“Fair enough,” he said with a small laugh.

Spencer went quiet after that, a soft yawn pulling from his throat as he relaxed into your comfy bed. You tucked yourself in close to him, letting him rest his head on your chest as you played with his hair, trying to soothe at least a little of his pain. He dozed off shortly after that, your apartment proving to be far more comfortable than a hospital bed in a freezing cold ward.

It was almost 2am when you woke up abruptly. You sat up in bed when you heard something fall in your bathroom. Looking beside you in bed, Spencer was gone and you knew his stubborn self tried to do something without waking you.

“Spencer!” You threw your bathroom door open, your eyes softening as you saw Spencer with his shirt halfway over his head, his arms tangled in the fabric. You helped him pull it over his head before you began scolding him, “Spencer, you’re supposed to wake me!”

“...I just wanted to shower,” he frowned.

Your heart softened and you sighed, “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You turned the water on, keeping your hand under the running water until it was warm enough for Spencer’s liking. You helped him take his sweatpants off and you helped him into the shower. Your heart aching at the sight of his red abdomen. It looked like it hurt a lot. The bruising had gone down significantly since the last time you saw it but it still looked awful. The thin incision was far smaller than you’d expected, given the damage the bullet had caused to everything beneath his skin.

Your shirt began to get wet and you decided you’d just shower with him. You pulled your shorts off and kicked them to the corner, pulling your (Spencer’s) shirt over your head and tossing it aside too. You gently washed every inch of him with unscented soap, making sure to be extra careful around his stomach.

Spencer leaned almost his whole body weight against you as you washed his skin. He felt remotely human again being clean, sick of the awkward sponge bathes he had to have in the hospital. You washed his hair too, the feeling of your fingertips scrubbing his scalp soothing the aches in his muscles.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your wet hair.

“You don’t have to thank me, Spence,” you replied, rinsing the soap suds from his hair.

Spencer loosely wrapped his arms around your waist just revelling in the feeling of the warm water hitting his back. You rubbed the back of his neck, your other hand tracing small circles along his back. The two of you stood there for a good 20 minutes before you finally turned the water off and helped dry him.

You gently patted his wound dry and put a fresh dressing over it. You grabbed a fresh pair of clothes for him and helped him into them before helping him back to bed, still adorned in just a towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at you.

“I love you,” he said softly, grasping both of your hands in his.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a long peck to his lips. You let Spencer hug you close, pressing his head against your sternum with his arms loosely wrapped around your hips. You combed your fingers through his freshly washed hair, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

He finally let go of you after you mentioned still being dressed in nothing but a towel. You hung both your towels up in the bathroom before stepping into your slightly cold bedroom to pick some clothes for yourself.

Spencer whistled from where he was lying in your bed, his eyes raking over your naked body. You rolled your eyes playfully, looking at him. “Come here,” he grinned.

“Absolutely not,” you retorted.

Spencer frowned, “why?”

“I think sex after a gunshot wound to the stomach isn’t the best idea, Doctor,” you teased, pulling a pair of panties on and one of Spencer’s shirts to wear.

“Who said anything about sex?” Spencer retorted childishly.

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too- you know what? I’m not doing this with you,” you chuckled as you padded over to the bed, pulling the covers aside to lie down beside him. Spencer tucked himself close to you, lying his head next to yours.

“Only joking… sort of,” Spencer grinned.

“Mmm, thought so,” you laughed, closing your eyes to finally catch up on sleep. The two of you lied in comfortable silence before Spencer’s hand cheekily creeped up to cup your breast through the shirt you were wearing, you pried one of your eyes open, “Spencer…”

“Okay, okay, I promise I’m done!”

a/n: i want spencer to fondle my tiddies :(

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kaislashes · 2 months

Text

Imagine

Vampire boyfriend who cant control himself the first time he smells you after you accidentally cut your finger while cooking.

You’re humming to yourself, slicing vegetables so you can get dinner ready. You can hear the TV on and see your boyfriend sitting comfortably on the couch. You feel butterflies staring at the raven haired man, not noticing that you’ve become so distracted until you feel a small nick and draw in a small hiss. You look down to see small droplets of blood oozing from the small cut you’ve made on your finger.

You look up again and notice those light blue eyes staring intensely at you, he slowly gets up and makes his way towards you. “I’m okay! Just a small cut.” He ignores you and stands in front of you, still as a stone. He reaches down and grabs your hand, eyes leaving yours to inspect the damage.

He pulls the finger up to his lips and gives and small lick, you almost pull back from the small burning sensation. “Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispers gently. You stay quiet. You’ve wanted him to taste you since the day he told you what he was but he always refused, always said he was scared he wouldn’t control him. You won’t stop him.

He slowly wraps his lips around the digit and sucks gently, eyes closing and a low groan leaving him. He looks almost euphoric, it makes your heart race. You can’t help but keep your eyes trained on him, enjoying his pleasure.

He pulls the finger out and opens his eyes. “You taste absolutely divine my dear.”

#monster #monster fucker #vampire #vampire boyfriend #vampire x reader #monster x reader #exophelia #monster lover #vampire lover

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ourautumn86 · 9 months

Note

Bestie I NEED angst enemies to lovers reader gets hurt on patrol. These always make me froth at the mouth 🙏

cw; +18 content minors dni!, wounds, blood, cursing, weapons, fighting, arguing, kissing, making out (n up 😋), teasing, dirty talking, dom! ellie x sub! reader, praising, hair pulling, praise kink, oral sex (r receiving), cum eating, fingering (r receiving)…

“ellie, shut the fuck up!” you muttered through gritted teeth, groaning as you placed a hand on your gushing side, blood pouring from the cut and making you feel dizzy.

“fuck. fuck. fuck. i told you to stay close! but as fucking always you do whatever the fuck you want!” she was a mess, frantic eyes and shaky hands looking for bandages on her backpack. “keep pressure on it!” you were loosing a lot of blood.

they had come out of nowhere. those fucking bandits… they’d tried to steal from you, and once you’d stood your ground they had put a blade through your stomach. by the time ellie had gotten to you, you were standing on both your wobbly feet with a dagger stuck into your skin. the feeling of the metal moving and cutting as you moved made you feel lightheaded. but you knew you shouldn’t take it out or you’d probably die. she had shot the two men in a mere instant, getting to you as you groaned in pain.

now that she had pulled you to a safe place, she could see the extent of the damage. it was no good.

“quit moving!” she grunted and you almost punched her.

“you try stay still with a blade on your stomach and then we’ll fucking talk you dumb fuck!” yeah, it hurt. and you knew ellie was just trying to not let you die, as much as she hated you, she wouldn’t like to be the one held accountable for your death (and she knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it from maria…).

“take a deep breath.” she instructed, her hand wrapping around the dagger, and your eyes shoe open.

“don’t. don’t pull it ou-!!!!” your breath got punched out of your lungs when she extracted it, the messy sound of spluttering blood making your vision go blurry.

you moaned in pain, sweat dripping down your shin. you’d never experienced such amount of pain before.

ellie was quick to push bandages on it to stop the hemorrhage. your hands gripped hers as you looked into her eyes, scared. the floor was now pooling in crimson. were you gonna die?

she pulled your gaze away from the blood.

“hey. look at me. you’re gonna be okay, alright? i promise. you’re gonna be okay.” you nodded. “but to stop the blood i need to sew you up.” your breathing was ragged. your life depended on someone that hated you. someone that always got on your nerves and made you crazy. you were on the hands of ellie williams. an fuck if that didn’t scare you. but you’d seen the way she had shot those men, how she was looking at you, how she promised that you’d be alright. and you wanted to believe in her. you pressed on the wound as she got out alcohol, thread and needle from her first aid kit. “ready?” you nodded, although you were looking awfully pale, hair sticking to your forehead in a cold sweat. “i’ll try to be as fast as i can.” she promised before moving your hands away and exposing the wound. it was deep, but it didn’t seem to have reached any important organs or caused irreparable damage. “this is gonna hurt.” she said, and your ears rung when the alcohol made contact with your skin. you screamed, nails digging on the hardwood floor at the sudden need to push her away. your lip broke due to how hard you were biting it, and your vision was getting more and more blurry.

you were gonna pass out.

“i’m sorry, fuck, i’m sorry.” she muttered, threading the needle to start sewing you up. “y/n?” she inquired when she saw just how lost you looked, your hazy eyes and slowing breathing. “y/n!” before you knew it your head was thudding against the floor as your consciousness left your body. “fuck. shit. hold on, please.” she fought with the shake on her hands as she punctured your skin. “i’ll fix this. i promise. just hold on…”

“woah. you look absolutely dead.” you groaned, rolling your eyes at the barging in of the nicest person walking on this rotten earth. notice the sarcasm.

“nice to see you too, ellie.” she smirked, coming to the side of your bed and leaving food that joel had cooked for you.

“it’s always nice to see me. have you seen me?” she inquired, eyebrows arched and you scoffed.

“grab an extra chair for your pride ellie, ‘cause holy fuck…” she chuckled, grabbing a chair of the infirmary in which maria had had you resting for a couple days now to have your infection under control.

and you tried not to look at her. tried. but not hard enough. she was right. she was a nice sight. her hair was on a low bun, freckled face flushed due to the cold, which she fought with the help of a grey sweater and black jeans.

ellie had always been pretty. really pretty. it was the first thing you’d noticed about her before she came and ruined everything by opening her mouth.

“joel made you some food. wouldn’t recommend you eat it. man can’t cook to save his own life.”

“thanks.” you muttered, readjusting yourself on the bed.

“how are you doing?” she inquired, curious (worried).

“you mean apart of dying of boredom?” you chuckled. “i’m doing amazing.” you sighed, voice full of sarcasm. and your body jolted when you felt one of her hands softly land on your thigh.

“you seem stressed.” your eyes were on her hand, softly rubbing circles on your skin to calm you down.

“i am.“ you gulped, “this is horrible. maria doesn’t let me move from the bed. i need to move, ellie. it’s killing me. i feel… useless.”

she stared at you, until her lips parted in a soft mutter. “i could help…” she leaned in just the slightest, her hand trailing upwards on your thigh, and you shivered.

after a few minutes in silence, you slowly nodded, and her tongue wetted her lips.

she got up from her seat, and climbed into the bed. you felt a bolt of electricity running up your spine when her breath hit your face.

“you sure about this?” she inquired, eyes on yours.

“just shut the fuck up and kiss me, ellie.” your whole body shook when her lips met yours.

oh shit.

she pulled away to take a look at your face, making sure it was alright. that this was alright.

you looked into her eyes, into her beautiful green emerald eyes. and before you knew it you were cupping her face to bring her back to you.

this felt amazing. too good to be true.

you hummed against her mouth, her hands on your hips, making sure not to put her weight on you and your wound.

you opened your mouth for her tongue, gasping.

“shit. been wanting to do that for years.” she muttered and you whined.

“ellie…” your hips bucked against her, and she cooed.

“shhh, i got you. i got you baby.” you felt her hands push down your pajama pants, one of her hands cupping your cunt, which was quickly pooling with slick. you always ended up soaked while around her, secretly touching yourself to the though of her late at night when no one would catch you. “all pent up, hm? you just need a little relief it’s all…” you nodded, and moaned when you felt her lips trailing down your neck, to your chest, your stomach, your panties…

“fuck!” you sighed in a choked out moan when she left a wet kiss to your clit, peeking at the wet patch that was forming on your underwear. her tongue flattened, tasting you though that thin layer of clothing. she hummed, and your hands tugged on her hair.

she started to eat you out through your panties, teasing you, making you squirm and beg.

“ellie, please…”

“what is it, princess? use your words for me, come on.” she caressed your inner thighs, making you squirm and your hips buck against her face.

“please stop teasing me. need you. need your mouth.” you pleaded, and she kissed your knee, your thigh, your mound… before tugging from your panties.

“atta girl. speaking up for me so well…” you moaned, feeling her middle and index finger spreading you open for her, slick strings sticking to your lips. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you finally felt it, her tongue licking a fat strip up to your clit, slurping at your juices. and then her middle finger, pushing inside your tight walls. you let out this beautiful moan that made her groan against you. “taste so good… best pussy i’ve ever had.” you felt your face and neck burn. ‘cause holy fuck, she knew how and what to say to make you shake. she started thrusting in and out, making you whimper and your back arch. “come on baby, relax for me.” you were so tight… you tried and breathe deeply, relax for her. “that’s it… open up for me. good girl.”

“just like that. oh shit, ellie. don’t stop please…” she smirked.

“yeah? you like that?” she added another finger, curling them and making you gasp. she grunted at the harsh tug of her hair. “you keep doing that i’ll fuck you stupid.” she warned, and you shivered, a broken moan rasping your throat. “but i bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nodded, listening to the wet squelches your pussy made for her. you were so wet… “of course you would.” you cried out when her lips sucked on your clit. she could tell you were close by the way your thighs were shaking at the sides of her head, how your walls were clenching around her fingers. “you close?” she inquired, and you nodded, tears pricking your eyes. “fuuck. can’t wait to drink you up. cum for me. cum on my mouth, princess.” her fingers sped up, got harsher, and you couldn’t help but follow her orders, coming all over her face, soaking her chin and cheeks and lips. she slurped it all up, humming and grunting, eating you like a starved woman tasting food for the first time in months.

she helped you ride it, sucking on your clit and curling her fingers against your g spot until you were nothing more than a panting spent mess.

you tugged from her hair when the overstimulation became too much, and she looked at you, from her spot between your legs, not knowing that that view would become your favorite from now on.

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remlionheart · 2 months

Text

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #megumi smut #megumi x angst #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi smut #jjk x you #toxic!megmi #jjk fanfic

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websterss · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟏/𝟐 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy,

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,655

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it love! I never fully watched the whole series, but I’ve definitely have seen that particular scene. I love Victoria Pedretti with my whole heart! lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐: (𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) 𝐨𝐫 (𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆)

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x fem!reader #scream x reader #scream vi #my gif #writings by juls

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #new years eve #new years kiss #getting together #first kiss #friends to lovers #they’re so stupid your honor #spoiler alert I yearn so hard on New Year’s Eve and for NOTHING #so I’m in my feelings and I’m gonna make it everyone’s problem

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elliesflower · 11 months

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loser!!!!!bff!!!!ellie!!!!!!!! hc's

i’m just jumping on the loser!ellie train bc i actually love it and i feel like she’s such a loser despite her commitment issues like…she wants to believe in love so bad, SO BAD that she is actually a hopeless romantic deep down she literally can’t help it but it’s trapped under her awkward funny girl exterior. she's so me fr 😵‍💫

all these are sfw except for a lil sum special for you FREAKS at the end teehee so as with all my content, please 18+ only, mdni!!!

cw; afab!reader, smut (at the end)

♡ all her doodles of cat and dina hello??? she’d have a whole fucking journal dedicated to just drawings of you, every time you hang out she’d be discreetly letting her eyes linger on your face so that she can sketch you out later. and she’d smile while sketching you i know she would, her cheeks would get all red and maybe she’d even giggle she wants you so bad!!!

♡ she’d be on patrol and see a beautiful yellow flower and immediately think of you, she has to pick it for her best friend, she HAS to!! she’d lose her balance on her damn horse trying to protect it from getting damaged while she rode back into town, but it’s worth it to see the smile on your pretty face

♡ i feel like she'd follow you around. in any context. patrol? she's slightly behind your horse to keep an eye on you. walking around jackson? she's literally always right behind your left shoulder, letting you lead the way. party at dina's? she's practically glued to you the whole night, and when the liquor would hit she was a little handsy, pathetically looping a finger through your belt loop as she followed you to the bathroom, moving your hair out of your face when you'd talk to her, etc.. and of course the next day she'd get so sick when she recalled her behavior, feeling shameful and wondering if you were catching on (ofc you were).

♡ and she’d dream about you all the time oh my gosh! esp after hanging out with you all day she wouldn’t be able to get you out of her head when she gets home. maybe she’ll definitely even write your name with a little heart next to it in her journal when she’s recalling the day. her subconscious would manifest the way that you looked trying to play her guitar into her dreams that night

♡ speaking of guitar, she’d 10000% write songs for you. she wouldn’t tell you they’re for you, of course, she’d just play the most beautiful love song you’ve ever heard and play it off like it was nothing. but when she gets home she’d probably cry because she was too scared to make a move on you :(

♡ i also mentioned this in a previous post but this bitch would love frank ocean, so i can see her falling asleep listening to thinkin bout you and crying bout you :( or imagine in a modern world her sketching in her journal while listening to ivy before she starts to cry because she's so frustrated by her own awkwardness, and the fact she can't ever seem to tell you how she feels :((((

♡ if you ever got into another relationship would be beating herself up over it, like why didn't she make a move sooner? and she wouldn't be able to help herself, she'd get extra moody whenever your partner was around, distant and clearly irritated. poor baby is just so bad at expressing her feelings that whenever you'd ask her about it she'd just throw it under the rug and say she's on her period or something

♡ but when you and your partner inevitably broke up, of course she was right there to be your shoulder to cry on. you'd show up at her house sobbing in the middle of the night, and i think it would take her aback, honestly, how she felt her own tears falling as she embraced you on her doorstep. she would be so emotionally connected to you, your tears were hers, and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel better. she'd throw out an empty threat to your ex, and it'd make you smile. she loves to see you smile, gosh she'd do anything to make you happy, she just loves you so much!

♡ she wouldn't. stop. with the fucking. dad jokes. she'd be insatiable, truly, like...you were starting to wonder if she was getting off on telling them to you or something. but really, she just wanted to make you feel better, any little thing she could do to make you laugh would make her feel like she did good enough for the day

♡ and you'd start to see her romantically after a while, how could you not? and why didn't you sooner? she'd be so easily flustered though, every time your hand would linger on her shoulder, or whenever you'd squeeze her even tighter as you watched a horror movie...her heart would start beating all fast and her cheeks would get so rosy. maybe her pussy would even throb when she noticed you bending over extra slowly while getting dressed one day. and of course you were doing it for her

♡ she wouldn't be able to contain herself when you kiss her for the first time. and of course you made the first move, you think a loser like ellie would ever kiss you first? she'd been so desperate for you for so long i really think she might whine into your mouth. she's a whimperer, really, she'd probably gasp when you shove your hand down the front of her pants and get your fingers moving over her clit,

"oh! oh m'god," she'd be pathetic, her jaw clenching as she whined into your shoulder while your fingers slid between her wet folds with ease. she'd cum so fucking fast you'd barely have time to blink, repeating your name over and over like a prayer as she made a mess of your hand. you've never seen her like this, lust clouding her inhibition and making her so desperate it was like she was brainless, grabbing your wrist and bringing your slick-covered fingers to her mouth to suck them clean.

"i gotta taste you," she'd whine, and she'd make sure you were comfortable on the bed before spreading your legs and eating you out like she was a woman possessed, literally drunk on the taste of your pussy.

"taste so fucking good," between kitten licks to your clit, did she even know what she was saying? "i love you, i fucking love you," of course she was confessing her love for you now, when she had her nose buried in your cunt, intoxicated by the sound of your moans and the feeling of your skin being indented by her fingertips.

she may be a loser, but she'd be your loser.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou pt 2

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bunnyywritings · 1 month

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your husband, nanami kento comforts you after a car accident

i was in a car accident today and i just needed comfort so here’s a little something i wrote

slight TW: minor car accident and self deprecation

It all happened so fast.

One minute, you were at a red light. The next, it was green but the car in front of you broke so suddenly and you weren’t quick enough to react.

The sound of crushing metal made your eyes widen, your foot moving to step on the breaks but it was too late, the damage had been done. There was a dull ache in the back of your neck and your chest as you followed the car to a safe spot to pull over and park.

The man who you had hit was too kind given the circumstances, he asked if you were alright and waved off your insistent apologies.

Quickly exchanging information and taking pictures of the damage, your hands shook violently as you sat in your car and watched him drive away.

Moving on auto-pilot, you did the only think you could think of. You picked up your phone and dialed Kento’s number.

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you listened to the dial tone ring, what would he say?

You’re bothering him at work. You’re under his insurance, this will definitely impact his rate. God…and the cost. You definitely didn’t have the money to fix your bumper and he would most likely offer to take in the payment. You couldn’t do that to him. This was all your fault.

Why did you have to be such an idiot? Such a disappointment? How could you be so careless to-

“-everything alright?”

A shaky “Huh?” left your lips which had made Kento sit up suddenly in his seat. Making Gojo and Yuji frown in confusion.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?”

The care and concern in his voice was enough for the dam to open. Tears streamed down your face as you gripped the fabric of your pants with your free hand.

“K-Kento…” Your voice broken and wet had made him tense. “I got-I got into a car accident.”

A whirlwind of worry swirled in his chest. Where were you? Were you hurt? Were you safe?

“Where are you?” He quickly rose from his seat, grabbing his keys from his suit jacket and heading towards the door. “Okay, I’m on my way.” And with that, he hung up.

“What happened?” Yuji’s eyes shifted between Gojo and Nanami. You were one of his favorite teachers as Jujutsu High and the thought of something happening to you scared him.

“She was in a car accident.”

This concerned him greatly, distress clear in his eyes. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” Nanami’s jaw was clenched as he made his way out of the room, rushing to his car.

“Don’t worry kid.” Gojo patted his head. “He’ll take care of it.”

You had sent your location to Nanami, all that was left was to wait.

You had long since shut off your car, staring i to the emptiness in front of you, trying as much as you could to control your cursed energy, not wanting to cause anymore harm.

When Kento pulled up to the scene, he was relieved to see no emergency vehicles around but that relief was gone immediately once he saw the detached bumper of your car.

As he approached, he noticed the dazed look on your face. You had dried tear stains down your cheeks, your mascara a little smudged around your eyes as you stared into nothing. He could also feel your struggle to keep your cursed energy at bay.

His concern sky rocketed when he pulled open the driver’s side door and you still hadn’t reacted. He knelt down so he was at eye level with you.

“Love? Are you alright?” He whispered, gently brushing some hair behind your ear. That seemed to snap you out of your trance. Your head snapped over to look at him, eyes finding his.

His heart shattering when your face crumpled in anguish and fresh tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, m’so sorry Kento! M’sorry-!” You were in hysterics. Apologizing through hiccups.

He couldn’t have been more confused. Why were you apologizing?

Nonetheless, he helped you out of your car and guided you into his arms. Holding you so tightly and breathing a sigh of relief. Reminding himself that you were alive. That you were okay. That you were in one piece.

He held you as you sobbed, clinging to the back of his shirt as he cradled the back of your head and placed a kiss to the top of it.

Once your cries died down and you pulled away from him, he decided to ask you.

“Why’re you apologizing?” He wasn’t being accusatory or anything, his tone was soft and gentle.

“B-Because I interrupted you at work and-and your insurance is gonna go up and I have to get the bumper replaced and-“

“Hey, hey…” He cooed, hands cradling your jaw, thumb lovingly caressing your cheekbone and wiping your tears. “Are you injured?”

You frowned. “No.”

“Were they injured?” He was met with a shake of the head. “I don’t care about the insurance rate going up, I don’t care if I need to pay to have your car fixed. I wouldn’t even bat an eye if I had to buy you a new car entirely. All I care about is that you’re safe. That you’re not hurt. A car is an object. It’s replaceable. You are not.” He removed a hand from your face and reached down to grab your left hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your engagement band and wedding ring with such reverence and care.

“I made a vow to take care of you. Whether that means taking care of you when you have the flu or paying for anything you need.”

This made even more tears flow down your cheeks. “I was so scared, Ken.” He frowned at your confession.

“I know pretty, but you’re okay. I’ve got you.” He continued to press kisses to your palm and wrist. “I left a few of my things at the school but if you wanted to go straight home, then I can just grab them tomorrow.”

“No, that’s okay.” You wiped your cheeks. “We can grab your things first.”

And so you did, his hand was in yours the entire drive there. Only letting go when you left the car.

When you both walked into his office, you were met with an enthusiastic shout of your name and a relieved Yuji pulling you into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.” His genuine admission brought a sad smile to your lips.

“You really had us worried there, Nanami looked like he was seconds away from a heart attack.” You frowned at Gojo’s admission, hating that you caused him to worry so much.

“Of course I was, she’s my wife you idiot.” He then turned to you with a smile. “Come on, let’s go home.” You gripped his hand and let him lead you back to his car.

He noticed the wince you hissed out as you pulled your seatbelt on. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah…I guess since the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m probably just sore.”

“Then let’s get you into a warm bath. Hmm?” He kissed the back of your hand.

You were gonna be okay.

He’d make sure of that.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento comfort #jujutsu kaisen comfort

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nice-meanie · 2 months

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Lucifer Morningstar helping overworked s/o

A/N: I haven’t written in a while so im trying to get back into it again. Don’t be scared to shoot over a request - especially not for our fav short king

1.2k - Lucifer Morningstar x reader (Hazbin Hotel)

Warnings: fluff, very sweet, already established relationship

Overworked s/o gets some comfort and love from our all-time favourite Lucifer.

You walked to the hotel door with a painful ache in your neck. All the sitting around, reading documents and arguing with some wanna-be rich people about car prices made your neck and shoulders sore. With slumped shoulders and an annoyed look, you stumble into the newly rebuilt hotel. Greeting you with a beaming smile, Charlie hopped over to you:

“Hey y/n, are you ready for a team-building exercise of trust and friendship? Now that you are finished with work, you can join us!!!”

“Sorry, not today Char Char. It was an exhausting day at work”

Normally you loved helping out Charlie in the hotel and talking to the others, but today you just wanted to go die for the secound time on the couch. You shot a quick smile and waved at Lucifer, who smiled back with slight pity noticing your tired deminer.

You walked up the neverending set of stairs, which seemed to just get longer and longer. After finally reaching your and Lucifer’s bedroom you fumbled with your keys in your pocket and opened the door. You walked to the bedroom and clumsily opened the door. Seeing the sweat relief of the king-sized bed, you flopped your tired body on it and let out an aching moan. You looked around the room, letting your eyes glide over the hotel room, which was more like a small one-bedroom apartment. It seemed like the concept of time had disappeared. Everything began to feel like a blur and your brain got foggy from the exhaustion. Minutes felt like hours in your trance-like state, when you heard a small klick coming from the door. You couldn’t be bothered to pick up your head let alone your body, so you just slowly rolled your eyes in the direction of the sound waiting for the bedroom door to be opened. You thought it was someone who came to check up on you or even worse, ask you for a favour so you presumptuously let out an annoyed huff. What you didn’t expect was to see Lucifer at the foot of the door, opening it slowly and carefully as if not to wake up a newborn baby. Seeing your lovely partner made your heart flutter and a barely visible smile crept up on your face despite your crushed state.

Seeing hell’s King sneak around your bedroom to not wake you if you were asleep had something heartwarming about it. This gave you enough strength to barely pull yourself from your lying position into a sitting one, letting one of your legs dangle off of the edge of the bed while the other was resting on the bed folded near your body. A silent “oh shit” echoed through the room as your boyfriend walked up to you and sat next to you on the bed.

“I’m sorry honey. Did I wake you?”

“No, no, not at all. I was just… resting on the bed”

“You look beaten, are you alright? You need to start watching out for yourself more. I mean, no one should be this tired. What if someone attacked you and you were too overworked to fight back?!”

You chuckled at your worried man and let your head fall on the shoulder pad of his pearl-white suit. He tensed up from the sudden touch but quickly relaxed. His hand found their way to your hair stroking your head gently. He carefully lifted your head to remove his jacket and hat and threw them on the bed to make his shoulder more comfortable to lie on.

“It was a loooooong day. First, some overlord was pissy that the price of a car he wanted to buy went up and wanted to bargain it down. As if that wasn’t bad enough some imp came to argue that his insurance won’t cover the car damages after he tried to transport two horses and a hellhound in his minivan. He just wouldn’t understand how the insurance couldn’t cover the damages his fiasco made on the car!”

“I don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself y/n! I mean you come home being tired to death after your job. Why don’t you just stay and work in the hotel? We’ve got plenty to get done so you won’t be out of work!”

“Luci, I can’t. I know my job has some downsides, but I’ve always loved cars. They are the only good memories I have left from Earth. I’m fine”

You said the last sentence through your teeth. You knew you weren’t fine and so did Lucifer, but you still tried to reassure him. He sighed and decided to let this argument go. He was worried sick from you working yourself to the bone and wanted to take your pain away, but he also knew that you were stubborn and wouldn’t listen to him. So he decided to take care of you once again. His hand crept up to your cheek replacing it with his shoulder and carefully slid behind you on the bed. You melted into his touch, savouring every last drop of love and affection he gave you. You moaned from dissatisfaction when the support of his shoulder was gone, but were nicely surprised by his hands gliding to your neck and shoulders and massaging them. You hummed at the release of tension in your muscles and let your head fall backwards with shut eyes. Lucifer couldn’t help but kiss your forehead gently flashing a smile at your satisfied face. Your eyes fluttered open and he let his hands slide lower across your whole back running circles. His fingertips and nails tickled your back. The painful fog in your brain started to lift and be replaced with gentle love. While savouring hell’s boss’ touch he snaked his hands behind your neck and legs picking you up effortlessly startling you. Your hands clutched onto his chest. It is still surprising how easily he can pick you up despite you being taller.

Carefully he walked over into the other room while you let your head rest on his body trying to get as close to him as possible as if you were afraid to lose him. While setting you down on the couch you cluched his arms almost anxiously.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You loosened your grip and sat up letting him slip behind you on the backrest of the couch. Lucifer kissed the top of your head letting you fall in his touch once more and resting your body between his legs. His hands slipped into your hair once more scratching your scalp softly and peppering your head with soft kisses. Taking care of you. Slowly you felt the stress of the day lifting. His hand slid over to your chin and pulled your face up. His back bent down and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You let yourself get lost in the kiss and reached up to his head placing your hands on the side of his head pulling Lucifer deeper into the kiss. His golden hair tickled the tips of your fingers making you smile into the kiss. After pulling away your boyfriend gave you a gentle look and kissed your nose making you giggle softly.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too Lucifer”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader hazbin #lucifer fluff #hazbin fluff

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cultrise · 6 months

Text

ABS RIDING. GOJO SATORU

𖦹 CONTENTS NSFW, crushing on gojo, semi-public sex i guess ??, praise, idiots in love, suguru is the mvp fr, fingering, riding gojo's abs ᵎᵎ wc 2.1k

ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !

you were sure you were fucked when you and your two best friends, satoru and suguru, were assigned a mission in okinawa.

you had finished the mission early and decided to spend the last day at the beach, on a little one day vacation. you didn’t think much of it, it was just a cute little outing with your friends.. well, if only you didn’t have the biggest crush on satoru, that is.

the second you arrived at the beach, satoru stretched up, ready to take a dip into the cold waters of the ocean. and that, of course, implied him taking off the beach shirt he was wearing, which was something you hadn’t really thought of before. you could practically hear the heat trickle up your whole body as satoru remained dressed only in his swimsuit and jumped in the water, filled with excitement. and worse? suguru had noticed.

a chuckle hit your ears as your eyebrows furrowed “what’s so funny?” you knew what was funny. suguru knew about your not-so-tiny crush on gojo, you had drunkenly confessed to it one night and begged for him not to tell the next morning. not that he had to hear it from your mouth, of course. it was pretty obvious.

suguru smiles, lounging back into his beach chair “you might burn into satoru’s skin, with the way you’re staring” he muses as you gasp. your palms start to sweat as you glance back at the white haired that was diving on his own, looking for sea life.

“is it that obvious?” you whisper as suguru chuckles in approval “stop laughing!”

“why? it’s hilarious” suguru turns to you before taking a sip from his cocktail “you really should tell him, it’s so annoying seeing you dance around each other like wild animals during mating season” you scowl at the analogy.

“if you tell him i’m breaking your neck, suguru” you threaten, gritting your teeth as your hands ball up into fists. suguru stares at you, unshaken by your threats.

“oh no… whatever shall i do?” he gets up, grabbing his wallet “you need to tell him” he groans as he stretches his hands.

“show-off” you scoff at his subtle display of power. after all, suguru was the second best sorcerer after his best friend, you both knew you had no chance of actually doing any damage to him “i’m too scared to..” you trail off as you nervously play with your fingers.

“trust me” suguru places a caring hand on your shoulder before walking away “here’s your chance”

“wait, where are you going?” you panic as he turns with a smile.

“to get some snacks. will take a while. have fun!” he winks as your mouth hangs as low as your knees go. as soon as you turn around, you're met with the tall, lanky figure of gojo satoru, emerging from the water as droplets race over his neck, chest and abs. he brushes his wet bangs backwards, looking at you with a confused expression.

"where's suguru?" you try to find your words, gulping as he approaches. you find it impossible to not glance at his torso "uh.. went to the store.. i guess..." satoru follows your watchful eyes and grins once he realises your pupils moved alongside the water droplets trickling down his hot skin.

"oh yeah? guess it's just us then, huh?" he continues to smile, his words making you snap out of your daze "guess so.." gojo leans to the side, grabbing a towel as he dries himself up. you forcedly turn your head away, not trusting yourself enough to not stare him down.

"y'kay?" gojo asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. you nod, pretending to check your phone as you dig your teeth into your lip. he was doing it on purpose, he had to be. you started to sweat as you thought back on the conversation you and geto had.. he couldn't.. he wouldn't possibly...

"are ya looking away 'cause you're scared i might notice the way you're staring at me?" satoru pouts, cocking his head to the side innocently as your face goes white. "s..sorry?!" the oxygen has completely disappeared from your lungs. how could he say it so casually? how did he know? were you really, truly that oblivious to your own obvious behaviour?

satoru's lips twist into a wicked grin as he bends down to your eye-level, face a few centimeters away "y'heard me" you breath hitches as he gets even closer, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear "question is, what will you do about it?" and before you get to reply he's strutting his way into the men's changing room, making sure you saw which stall he entered.

you stood there for a few good minutes, completely frozen. was that an invitation? what did he mean by that? was gojo actually interested in you? he couldn't be. maybe he just wanted to get into your pants. but.. would that really be so bad? it was gojo satoru after all.. and even though he was a cocky bastard who's ego reached beyond the moon, you knew for a fact that he fucked good. and you were determined to find out too.

"oh? what took you so long?" gojo snickers as he watches you, eyes full of intent. the changing room was small, barely fitting the two of you and was so dimly lit you could barely make out his features. but you already knew satoru, you knew exactly the expression he was wearing right now... you were also quite thankful he couldn't see yours - or that he pretended he couldn't.

in a fit of impulsiveness you march over to his spot, tip-toeing to reach his face "can you shut up and kiss me?" you hope he doesn't hear the subtone of desperation in your demand. he only chuckles, big hands sliding along your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. you take note of the soft kisses he applies to your lips, as his own shake. his thumbs caress the sides of his face, body melting against his before he pulls away.

"wanted to do that for a while..." his whole demeanour is crushed, the vulnerability and uncertainty that weighed his mind now rising to surface. gojo satoru was, in fact, probably more nervous about this than you were.

"yeah?" your eyes start adjusting to the dark and you take note of the man in front of you, reduced to nothing but a lovesick schoolboy. your finger pads trace the outline of his lips "why now?" his fingers dig into the hot skin of your bare back before he replies, smile reappearing on his visage.

"might've asked suguru to leave so i can have you all to myself.." you smile back, rolling his eyes. of course he did. your hands slide down his neck and rest on his buff shoulders.

"and what did you expect to do once you had me all to yourself?" you whisper. satoru is suddenly reminded by the painful boner in his pants. after all, he had also noticed the way the two-piece swimsuit hung on your figure, how it complimented your curves, how the colors on it matches the ones in your eyes... his only advantage to get away with staring at you so shamelessly were his glasses.

everything after that sentence is a blur. you remember satoru saying something, you don't remember what. you remember how the second kiss comes in differently, messier, hungrier, sloppier. you also recall getting spun around harshly as gojo presses his clothed bulge to your ass and starts rubbing your clit through your panties. he was saying some praises to you.. you don't remember what.

needless to say, your mind clouded the second the whole ordeal began and now, gojo had, funnily enough, wrapped you around his fingers. no, literally.

"fuck, look at how she clenches around 'em" satoru's now hoarse voice signals as he watches the way your pussy sucks his two fingers in, completely ignoring how hard you were attempting to keep quiet. "you want me this much, huh? don't ya, princess?"

"s..shiiiit.... don't call me that, satoru!.." the sentence comes out in a whine, making him chuckle as he lowers himself to his knees for a better view. his lips find their way to your thighs as he sucks, bites and kisses on them, eyes still glued to your cunt.

"look at how she's begging for me... hear that?" god, he was foul. he knew he was getting you annoyed with his comments but.. you had to admit, the sounds your pussy made were absolutely lewd, downright filthy. you just wished he'd shut up and split you open with his cock already.

and as he pulls his fingers out, your eyes trail to the band of his swimsuit boxers, waiting, expecting... he surely wasn't going not fuck you after pulling his fingers out of you right before you came.. right?

you yelp as satoru picks you up, sitting down on the chair in the corner of the dressing room and places you on top of him. his hands pull his boxers down, only slightly. your eyes look for his in the dark as satoru rests his palms on your thighs.

"say, if you love my abs so much, why don't ya get off on them?" you're in disbelief. so he wasn't going to fuck you. great, just great. however, the idea wasn't exactly uninviting.... especially considering how good your pussy felt when satoru pressed his toned torso against you with a small smirk.

"come on, pretty... let me see you take care of yourself.. let me see how much my good girl wants me" and the second you heard 'my good girl' your mind went haywire again, ready to accept and fulfil any demand or request.

satoru groans as he feels you start to drag your pussy against his stomach, palms clasped around his neck. with every movement, you could feel the ridges of his toned abs which only made him tense up so he could hear you whine under your breath about how good he felt.

"thaaaat's it.... good girl.. fuck, such a needy pussy.." satoru praises as his hands travel along your body, one hand helping you out by guiding your hips along his body. your nails dig crescent marks into his pale skin, hot breaths fanning on his face as you move faster, eyes shut tightly "feel good?"

"ahh... yes, please!" you half-yell, still trying to restrain yourself, just in case someone was near. satoru hides his face in the crook of your neck so he can suck marks into your skin while also hiding the way his lips part in arousal, cock throbbing and begging to be let out of his boxers.

"please what, baby?" satoru purrs before licking a long stripe against your neck, just below your jaw. you let out a huge breath as you grind your hips so far back that your puffy clit meets his happy trail, coating it in slick.

"need you... 'toru" you mewl as satoru let's out a quiet 'fuck' against your ear, pressing down on your hips so you gain more friction. hearing you slur his name made him lose his mind as he begged you, in his head, to cum already, just so he can fuck you stupid after so long.

thankfully for him, it doesn't take long until his request is fulfilled and, biting into his shoulder, you cum all over his stomach, body trembling before going limp on top of his. his left-hand travels all the way up to your head, caressing it gently as he kisses your temple and mutters about how good you were for him.

"satoru... i really like you" you confess suddenly, overtaken by adrenaline as you played with the necklace he had around his neck. gojo smiles as he helps you pull your swimsuit back on.

"so do i, princess" and he grabs you by your jaw, placing another swift kiss to your mouth. "can i show you how much?" he whispers. you nod in response, letting yourself get picked up and carried out to the car and then up the hotel stairs until you reached the room. right before closing the bedroom door, satoru is quick enough to send a text.

satoru ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- : do me a favour and don't come back to the hotel for two hours. thanks suguru!!!!

suguru (¬_¬") : you're both so disgusting.

suguru (¬_¬") : congrats.

suguru (¬_¬") : you owe me lots of beers after this.

#✦— kinktober.#𐙚 — pages.#𐙚— dreamscape.#gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #kinktober '23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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soobnny · 7 months

Text

swipe — lee felix.

trope. lee felix. strangers to lovers. chronicles of a dating app. felix is extremely flirty. just fluff.

synopsis. i’m not looking to date right now, but my parents just sent me some computer parts and i saw on your tinder bio that you like assembling computers

word count. 3.2k words

warnings. none except for a few curse words

note. hi hello i got sent this rly funny photo of a conversation so i took inspiration from that and wrote this fic like a whiiile ago. i’ve had this in my drafts for a while so why not let it see the light of day!

Left. Left. Left. Left. Pause. Left. Left. Left. Left.

“(Name)!”

Yunjin offers no warning when her hands move to claw at your shoulders, intent on startling you without sparing a thought on your poor phone that had jumped out of your hands.

When you scare, she laughs, open-mouthed and loud as she plops herself on the spot next to you on your dorm’s mini couch. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Honestly, how do you even do that? I barely heard you walk into the living room!” You grumble.

You spare her a glance and notice she’s too dressed up to be staying the night in–white crop top that sits just above her hips with some low rise jeans to accentuate her features. Her hair is curled on the ends, recently dyed black and styled to look a little messy.

She must be going out.

Though you try not to think about it, the amount of times Yunjin goes out with her friends in a week is a constant reminder of how pathetic your social life is. While it didn’t quite bother you enough to accept her invite, it’d be nice to leave your dorm once in a while. It’s just that you haven’t found anyone you really clicked with like Yunjin.

“What are you doing?” She cranes her neck to try and see what you were so busy with that you didn’t see her from your peripheral vision.

You show her the app with no shame. It only makes her laugh tenfold, hands clutching her stomach with her head thrown back as if she wasn’t the one who had suggested you download it in the first place.

“Yunjin, this is stupid. I’ve only had this downloaded for a day and I already feel sick.” You groan, throwing your phone down in the space between you. Though, maybe you should’ve thought twice about that when Yunjin decides to grab so she can have a go herself – swiping left and left and left and… oh?

“What about him?” You curl into her side, peering over your phone.

Oh, he’s pretty cute. Lee Felix?

“He added dog lover. You love dogs and… music?” She goes over his interests quickly, eyes scanning his profile like a pro. You suppose it’s because she’s used to it, quick to read a guy’s intentions just by their Tinder profile.

“I like assembling computers. Oh, this guy’s a dork, you’d love him.”

Right.

It’s a match!

“Yunjin!” You shift in your seat, immediately grabbing your phone from her grip before she can do any further damage. Sure, you had humored yourself into downloading the app for Yunjin but you never thought of actually swiping right for anyone.

“What? He’s cute, and you matched!” She giggles, trying to grab your phone back so she can craft you the perfect first message.

She knows you won’t do it yourself.

You lock your phone before she has a chance to do anything stupid, shaking your head in reprimand. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not happening.”

She simply smiles at you, shrugging her shoulders and calling it a day for her trial in meddling with your love life. “Well, I tried. Alright, I have to go. I’ll be back late, you sure you don’t wanna come with?”

You return the smile, shaking your head as you drop yourself to lay down on the entirety of the couch once your roommate gets up. “I think my computer parts are coming in today so I have to be here to sign off the delivery.”

“Nerd.” She snorts, waving you goodbye and locking the door behind her. It’s your cue to grab your laptop and continue binging that new drama that had just been released.

This is your ordinary Friday night, curled up on the sofa with your most comfortable blanket and your laptop on your lap. Despite the desire to socialize sometimes, you think nothing else really goes above wearing your favorite PJs and eating snacks without guilt as the opening song of your new drama plays.

Though, you only get to finish one episode when your doorbell rings, and you waltz yourself to your front door to happily accept the package sent by your parents. They had won it as one of the raffle prizes in a foreign business trip, and since your parents had no use for a computer, they decided to ship it off to you. “Could help with college,” is what your dad says.

It’s only when multiple boxes come rolling in when you realize one small problem. You don’t know how to fucking assemble a computer, and you doubt Yunjin would know how either.

“That’s it. If you could please sign here, here, and here.” The mailman still sounds enthusiastic despite having done hours of his shift already, and you comply immediately as to not add on to the downpour of stress that’s handed to them every single day.

When you shut your door, you quickly turn around to stare at the multitude of boxes on the ground. Maybe Beomgyu would know how? He looks like he’d know a thing or two about computers. So, you shoot him a text.

Turns out, he doesn’t know how. And he’s currently scamming Yeonjun out of a free dinner, and so even though he tells you he’ll try to be there, you know he probably won’t arrive (unless to laugh at your situation).

You think, maybe you can just go to the Computer Engineering department and ask someone to help you, but could you risk socializing with numerous college students face to face? Absolutely the fuck not.

You’ve just about given up when your head strikes an idea and your back immediately straightens in posture at the stupid thought. “Should I?”

You rush towards where you had left your phone, letting out a sigh as you stare at the one person on your Match list. Lee Felix who likes assembling computers.

Lovely fucking timing.

Fumbling with the device, you finally decide to shoot him a message. What are the odds of him responding, anyway?

You’re tempted to throw your phone while waiting for his response, though your plan goes down the drain in a second when he responds almost immediately.

yn (6:03pm): hello!

felix (6:04pm): hey! i didn’t think you would message first :))

yn (6:06pm): oh, i’m sorry i hope you don’t get my intentions wrong. it’s just that … my parents sent over some computer parts and i rly don’t know how to assemble a computer

yn (6:06pm): i know it’s kind of random, but could u possibly help me by any chance?

yn (6:07pm): i don’t rly know anyone who knows how to and you’re the only person that came to mind

You cringe at yourself for triple messaging, face visibly scrunching as you let out a pained noise. And then he replies, and your hand shoots to grab your phone and stare at his message.

“Yeah, why not?” is what he replies, followed by where he should meet you. Is it a good idea to invite a stranger to your dorm? Probably not, but you can’t possibly assemble your computer somewhere else and bring it back to your dorms. So, you tell him to meet you at a cafe nearby – to test out the waters and see if he isn’t some variant of a serial killer.

“Be there in 15,” is his next reply.

15 minutes?!

You look down at yourself in sudden panic, still clad in a big shirt and some shorts. How were you supposed to pick something decent to wear in 15 minutes without Yunjin? You suppose could facetime her but you know it takes her hours to even decide on what to wear for herself.

Bringing your feet towards your closet, you say a silent prayer and start picking out what to wear for yourself. While this wasn’t technically a date, Lee Felix from Tinder is still fucking cute and you would hate for him to think he got scammed into swiping right on you.

You double check yourself in the mirror, chewing at your lips thoughtfully before sighing out in approval. At least you looked as if you put some sort of effort into what you’re wearing. That should be good enough in itself.

The nerve of meeting an entirely new person begins to set in when you repeatedly dart your eyes from the coffee shop back to your phone to try and see if anyone who looked like Felix was in the coffee shop. It’s like watching a game of ping pong the way you repeatedly look back and forth. And when it seems that no one with long black hair is here yet, you take it upon yourself to take a seat by the window where he can find you easily.

The scraping of the chair catches your attention, and holy fuck. Lee Felix is not a catfish. He is way far from it, and you think you might’ve lucked out when he takes the seat in front of you.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t startle you.” Deep, thick accent. It feels like shots of espresso when he speaks and it physically manifests goosebumps from you. You shake your head, telling him you’re fine. “(Name), right?”

He smiles, and it feels like your whole world stops.

“Uh, yeah. You must be Felix?” The man in question nods his head, reaching out to shake your hand and the gesture has your cheeks flushing. It’s an act of basic human decency, but can you really be blamed for acting like a shy little school girl when someone as beautiful as Felix is sitting and talking to you.

The coffee shop is still bustling, and everyone around you converses as if the most beautiful man hadn’t just stepped foot into the coffee shop. The freckles sitting just below his eyes look like constellations, and his black hair is styled just messy enough to achieve the hot boy who doesn’t know he’s hot look.

“Do you want some coffee before I set your computer up?” You shake your head, suddenly feeling shy.

Instead, you tell him to get whatever he wants so you don’t feel guilty enough for taking time out of his evening just to assemble your computer. He accepts your promise in pretense, but he comes back with his order and a few pastries and it’s clear he’s already paid for it from the way he ignores any mention of how much it cost.

“I didn’t know what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.” There’s a crinkle just at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, sitting back down adjacent of you as he pushes the plate closer to you.

You look at the array of pastries, a little hesitant. “Please don’t feel shy. Here, let’s take one together.”

He grabs a cookie from the platter, and you shyly follow by grabbing a strawberry muffin.

“Mmm, strawberry muffin. Very good choice.” Felix comments, watching you closely as you take a bite out of the muffin. “Is it good?”

Your eyes widen in delight, nodding your head as you chew slowly. “So good.”

Your words come out as a mumble, and it triggers a sweet laugh out of Felix. You feel familiar, the way you smile with your eyes and close them shut to savor the taste.

“You’re cute.” He says unabashedly, as if his words won’t cause drastic consequences.

A chunk gets stuck on your throat.

Felix is quick to hand you a glass of water when you start choking, rushing to stand by your side. You would’ve hoped the first skinship for the evening would be handholding, and not repeated pats on your back to remedy your choking.

“Are you okay?” His hand is still on your back, gently running small circles as he leans down to check on you. You think you might start choking again if he keeps looking at you like that, 1080p view of his eyelashes and the specs splashing his irises.

“Mhm, sorry.” You put the glass down, refusing to meet his eyes as he remains hovering over you. You want to leave out of embarrassment. He notices your silence, notices the way you cross your arms in mock defense.

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re cute.” There’s a smirk on his face. You can tell without even looking up at him. “I’ll take these out.”

He says it so casually, as if he’s simply asking about your day. His outward flirty-ness is new, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“Ready to go?”

With the plastic bag in his hand and his order in a takeout cup, you sigh gratefully. “Yeah.”

The walk to your dorm is short, but it’s spent in conversation. Lee Felix is talkative, has lots of stories to offer. Whatever it takes to make you laugh.

You like that about him. You like that you don’t have to talk so much. He doesn’t even force a comment out of you. Just needs to know you’re listening.

So you do. You listen intently as he shares pieces of his life with you—his friends, his course, games he plays. He’s chatty, and the way he smiles with every word reminds you of a cat. Deep whiskers and crescent eyes.

“So, really, this is a great way to end the day, assembling a pretty girl’s computer.”

His mouth drops a little when he realizes he’d vocalized the latter part of his sentence, yet he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You are pretty, one of the prettiest he’s ever seen. And the blush on your face is well worth the slip of his tongue.

“As long as you’re sure this isn’t a hassle.” You mumble, looking down at your feet as you reach your building.

That you aren’t getting anything out of this.

Though, before you can step forward, you’re tugged back to where Felix is standing. He’s holding your hand now, grabbing your full attention. “I promise this isn’t a bother.”

The way he looks at you answers your silent question—he doesn’t mind that you’re simply asking for his help without any intention.

“I enjoy building computers, especially with good company. You don’t even have to do anything. Just sit there and be yourself.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He squeezes your hand for extra measure, allowing you to drag him to your dorm room.

True to his word, Felix doesn’t so much as let you lift a finger. You stay seated on the couch, watching as he sets to work on the floor. From time to time, he’d tell you what he’s doing. Something about screwing some parts in and a mother board? You don’t understand much, but you listen as much as you can.

“Tell me about yourself.” Felix looks up from his work, and your eyes widen a little at the boy’s sudden request.

You’re sure you’re simply imagining the gentle interest in his eyes. “Hm?” You ask him to repeat himself, even though you heard him loud and clear.

“I’ve been yapping about myself all night. I wanna know more about you.” He teases.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Soooo… do I start with the year I was born?” You laugh when he throws you a look, quick to throw your hands in the air in mock surrender. “Joking, joking.”

“You’re an interesting girl, (Name).” Felix grins, locking eyes with you for a second and a half before turning back to his work.

“There’s nothing much to me, really. I go to school and go home and that’s about it. I just try and survive college the best I can.”

He shoots you a disapproving look. “Well, I beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?” You bring your legs up on the couch, sitting cross-legged as you wait for what he had to say.

“For one, your eyes lit up when I talked about Chan’s Pokemon collection, or how Seungmin is obsessed with Kdramas.” He points out, reaching for his takeout drink and taking a few large gulps. “And you smiled when I mentioned the little chicken plush I own.”

You don’t expect Felix to notice any of this, and the thought that he did has a blush fighting to creep up your face.

You grab a throw pillow to hide behind.

“Oh, and you like strawberry muffins. So, I’d say there’s a lot to you. And I’m hoping to learn everything more.”

You have to force your eyes to look away from him in fear that your flustered cheeks would appear too obvious to the boy. Though, if he’d noticed the mere brightening of your eyes, you’re sure he’s already caught on to the silly schoolgirl smile on your lips.

“Stop looking at me.” You mumble, burying your face in your pillow. All you can hear is his sweet laughter.

“Come here, I’m just about done.”

You clap your hands in small when he turns on your computer, fully functioning and fully assembled. It surprises you how a task that would’ve taken you 6 hours is done in under 2 by Felix. Even more that it didn’t even feel like two hours.

You suppose that’s just the thing with Felix. He makes it so that time disappears with the whole night sky in his eyes—the moon for eyes and stars littering his face.

“Thank you, Felix. Like really.” He dismisses you, telling you it was nothing. The satisfaction on your face is enough compensation for his work.

There’s a few do’s and don’t’s that he mentions, and you try to list them down the best you can.

“Or, I can just text it to you?”

You pause mid-writing, looking up at him. “Sure, that’s… that’s fine with me.”

You’re unsure of how to say goodbye to him after giving him your number, unsure even of how you can make it up to him for the 3 hours you’d taken away from him. If it were anyone else, you would’ve said it in ease, so you don’t know why you can’t do the same for Felix.

It’s different with him because you don’t want to say goodbye. You could go hours longer listening to him and watching him assemble your computer. Though, before you can contemplate to do anything, Felix interrupts your inner monologue.

“Actually, I have an idea on how you can make it up to me.”

You look up at him expectantly, and you see the hint of a smirk tracing on his features.

“Let me take you out on a date. A real one.”

“A date?” You stutter.

“I know you said you texted me just because I could fix up computers, but I really enjoyed talking to you today.” He’s holding back a smile. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” His eyes light up, glazed with happiness as he processes your response.

“Okay? As in, I can take you out on a real date?”

“Yes.”

Felix can feel something sweet in his heart, can feel it flutter like it’s being squeezed. To his surprise, you’d actually agreed, and the genuine excitement in his smile is too wholesome to not stare at.

“So… goodnight then?”

“Goodnight.”

“I’ll text you?”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Felix fixes you with a look one last time, almost romantic with the soft glaze in his eyes. And then he’s stumbling out into your hallway.

With a second glance, he turns his back away from you and walks away. You can’t help but still feel the warmth of his smile.

You feel a compelling force telling you you’ll see much more of Lee Felix in the near future.

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