#and I know this because I had people on the other side of the door who had decided to help me find solas

[oceansblvds]

not allowed — satoru gojo

pairing ; sensei!satoru gojo x student!reader

words ; 7.6k (my bad)

about ; you're given your first solo mission with your sensei gojo overlooking to make sure anything doesn't go wrong. both of you are aware that being borderline obsessed with the other is wrong, but who liked rules anyway?

warning(s) ; smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, age gap but both are consenting adults, gojo may be a little ooc but support my delusions anyway, my yapping, not edited, longing? i don't fucking know.

author's note ; okay okay hi! this is different from my normal content but i've been obsessed with jjk recently and i have gojo brainrot. so consider this my beginning of many fics to come. feel free to request!

YOU HADN’T EVER BEEN ON A MISSION ALONE WITH YOUR SENSEI BEFORE. It was . . . Odd. Typically, one of your other classmates would accompany you along with your Sensei in order to encourage similar teachings. Though this time it seemed as though this mission was something that was matched to you, up your sleeve given your technical curse usage, and it was to be something that you did with the guidance of Satoru Gojo, and he was only allowed to intervene if you were going to get severely harmed. The town that you were assigned to, with a cursed spirit seemingly murdering children who went out into the sea too late at night, was a sleepy little town. You were sure that this was the first time that they had ever experienced turmoil like this, and they were happy to allow you and your Sensei to ‘investigate’ the murders. As you parked the car in the parking lot, you looked around, seeing several townspeople watch as you stepped outside of the drivers side of the road, Satoru out on the passengers side, both dressed in dark black clothing. He had made a joke about how he didn’t trust you driving at all, yet insisted that he wasn’t the one to get you two down there. 

I don’t drive myself places. 

Yeah, well, then he would put up with your driving after all. 

“I can feel your apprehension,” Your Sensei told you, walking in front of you up the stone stairs that came up to the front door of the place you would be staying in with him. Behind you was nothing but your car in the empty lot, the people watching getting uninterested as Gojo pulled out a key and began fiddling with the lock. Damn thing looked as though it had rusted at least three times over. You couldn’t wait to hear him complain about how you two should’ve been granted luxury. You hadn’t even been inside yet and you were already thinking about what he was going to say. The town was so small that there weren’t any hotels, the nearest one over an hour away, meaning that you would have to live in one of these larger homes on the beach for the time being. There wasn’t to be any distractions either, it was supposed to be a pretty open and shut case. Find the curse, exorcize it. It wasn’t that high of a grade anyways, or so you were told by your overachieving Sensei. 

If only people  knew that it didn’t matter if there was no one other than your Sensei to engage with, because Satoru Gojo, alone, was able to distract you for hours on end if you really put your mind to it. Satoru and you were very similar in age, early adult years, and yet he had the role of Sensei and you were still just a Student. You knew that it was because of his efforts of expelling Suguru Geto from the plane of existence, and that alone was enough to grant him the title of Special Grade Sorcerer, but it still was awkward at points when he talked down on you, because really, he had only four years more experience in life than you did.

You did what you were told. You always did. As a younger student you had a temper, a rebellious streak that for a time was almost concerning for the Jujutsu community that taught you. And yet, here you were, a respectful young sorcerer. Over the years you have grown, probably more than any other student that the community had seen, or at least, since your Sensei himself. It was like overnight somehow you turned from a child to a young woman, and you were adamant about completing your studies so that you could become a Special Grade. Those plans, however, were way easier said than done. You still had to work very hard to even get to the level of Gojo’s left hand in terms of strength and ability. But oh did you want it. You wanted all that power, and that was probably why he was so keen on teaching you, why he brought you on this mission in the first place. 

You were just like him, in a lot of ways. 

Satoru was not entirely a man of secrets. You could ask him things about almost anything and he would tell you. The only thing that he kept guarded in the deepest parts of his mind was things of his past, and his reasoning behind making such vast decisions like he oh so loved to do. But you and Satoru still managed to be very close, the cursed energy growing strong between both of you as if it too agreed in your compatibility.

You shook your head, immediately refuting his accusations. “No, it’s not apprehension,” you told him, eyes coming up to meet the back of his head since he wasn’t looking at you. “Just concern, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Your Sensei questioned. The second that his foot came up to the top of the stairs, his figure turned around and faced you, those bold, blue eyes from under his black mask looking at you even if you couldn’t see it, you could definitely feel them there. “If you have any doubts about anything, tell me, I am your Sensei after all.” He loved calling himself that. 

That’s exactly that problem, you thought to yourself, making sure that your mental shields were up to guard it so that it wasn’t written all over your face. That was the last thing that you needed, for him to know the things that you wished to push down into the darkest depths of your mind. The thought of simply just being with him here alone made your brain almost electrify yourself, thinking about all the possibilities of slipping up and revealing all your emotions towards your Sensei directly to him. It was something to fear, and yet you were not allowed to fear, you couldn’t fear someone like him who was supposed to teach her. 

You offered him the fakest smile that you could muster, saying, “Yes, I’m alright. Let’s just get inside, it’s almost dark.” The setting sun was directly to your back, illuminating him in front of you like he was something to be marveled at. And to your defense, Satoru Gojo was definitely something to be marveled at. His chiseled cheeks only looked more distinguished in the golden light, along with his silver-esque blonde hair that seemed to catch it just right. It made you feel weak in the knees, these thoughts of him, and you knew it was wrong to think of him in such ways - but you just couldn’t stop. Every time you tried to vilify him in your mind, another reason why you should love popped right back up in its place. It was a deadly cycle that you have shamelessly fallen victim to, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it or further this attraction. It was forbidden. He was your teacher.

The moment that you stepped into the building, a sigh left your lips, eyes taking in all your surroundings. It was marvelous. There were marbled stone floors that were covered in rugs in some places, plush couches in the middle of the room, and off to the side were the counters of the kitchen, all looking as if no one had ever stepped foot in here. Suddenly you felt out of place here, like you weren’t good enough to live in such a lavish way. After all, your dorm room at the school was nothing compared to this. They were bland, sandy and brown colors everywhere. Only a dresser with a small mirror and a bed were in it. Yet here, there were different hues of reds, greens, and blues, tables and chairs and fancy lamps, and plants that added almost another dimension to the already breathtaking house.

“It’s - It’s,” You started, not able to find the correct words for what you were trying to say.

Luckily, Gojo finished your sentence, “Breathtaking. It’s breathtaking.”

You turned to look back at him, taking in his features for just a moment more.

Breathtaking, you thought to yourself. Yes, everything here is just breathtaking.

-

The soft silks of your bed sheets rolled between your fingers, tempting you to lay into bed and never get back up. How on Earth were you supposed to find this curse when you were living like this? You could imagine yourself, not as a sorcerer but as a normal person, eating wild berries as you sat on your bed near the balcony, looking towards the horizon and not having one single worry in that head of yours. It was tantalizing, the perfect picture in your mind of what you wished to be.

“Why do you have that dumbfounded look on your face?”

You spun around to only be met with Satoru, who was leaning against your doorframe effortlessly. Has he always been that tall? A heat rose up to your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t been taking the proper precautions of keeping those thoughts only to yourself, it was written all over your face. They were just little flings of ideas, nothing too brash that could get you into any trouble. “I shouldn’t have been thinking of slacking off when we have work to do in the coming days.”

A chuckle escaped his lips from deep within his chest. “It’s okay, Y/N, really, if I am being honest, I was thinking the same not too long ago.”

That was shocking news to you. You always thought that Gojo always wanted to be on the run, as if this trip that he had to take with you was annoying to him because he had to take time away from much more special missions that he would get to be the leader of. But it also made sense, even victorious Special Grade Sorcerers get tired sooner or later. Perhaps you didn’t know him as much as you thought that you did. This trip wasn’t just for you, it was for the both of you. It was good to go back to basics, even for someone as powerful as him. 

“And here I was thinking that you didn’t want to be here,” You mused.

Satoru laughed at your jest. “No, quite the opposite. It’ll be nice to take a step back from life for a little bit and get to watch you do all the work.”

“I didn’t know that Satoru Gojo knew what rest meant,” You continued on with your playful banter.

“I don’t,” He chuckled. “Maybe you can teach me?”

Now that sends you through a loop. You knew that he was probably just playing around with you, since you were teasing him a little bit. But that sentence was enough for that place in your mind to unlock all the fantasies you had in your head about him, the ones that you only dared touch when you knew you were alone and it was the dead of night. You held yourself back from becoming flustered, knowing the moment you showed any signs of it that he would know that something was up. Instead you simply nodded your head, taking your eyes off of him to the balcony that was open to your room, seeing the way that the moonlight illuminated the waves of the water. “Perhaps after investigating tomorrow, we could go by the water?” You asked him.

“Sure thing,” Satoru said, turning on his heel and making his way out of your room. You took a sigh of relief at his absence, not because you wanted him gone, but because seeing him in such a leisurely setting was starting to get to your head. That dizzy feeling that got to your head every time you looked at him for too long started to subside, and you were left with only your thoughts as you put away some clothes you packed for the stay.

The moment that your head hit the soft, plush pillow of your large bed, you were completely enveloped by sleep. In your dreams you only saw you and Satoru, happy and smiling in the gracious flower fields you had passed on the way here, preparing meals together half dressed in the kitchen, and falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was so real and lifelike that when you woke up in the morning, you felt as if you had awoken from an alternate universe.

-

Satoru didn’t know what he was doing.

Of course he was excited to be able to take a break from the long days of having to deal with the stupid fucking orderlies at the school, but at the same time he knew that being alone with you was going to be a struggle for him. Gojo loved to train you, he really did. You were a loyal student and was eager to learn from his instruction. He knew the moment that he saw you that he wanted to train you. But he hadn’t prepared for him to become so emotionally attached to you, and it was tearing the young teacher apart. 

It was incredibly taboo of him to gain these feelings for two reasons. One: he should really learn to teach other people so that he wasn’t spending all his time giving all of his ‘wisdom’ (as he liked to call it) to you. Two: you were his student. It may have been different if you were within the same ranks as him, but you were not. He was supposed to be your teacher, and there was no way that he would take advantage of his position of power over you if you were not willing.

He, too, was having doubts about this mission. Satoru almost asked Nanami if he would accompany the two of you for as long as it took, but there was too much going on for him to take any time off from his job, and Satoru was sure that it was just an excuse so that he didn’t have to tolerate him more than necessary anyways. So it was just you and him, alone in this house in this beautiful town.

The next day rolled along and you two had spent most of it investigating, talking to locals, etc. It was incredibly boring for him, though part of him felt incredibly proud that you were able to do everything on your own without any hiccup. You two had devised a plan for tomorrow to go after the curse directly from the source: a small cove near some cliffs by the beach. You would go at night and hopefully be able to catch it before it brought in any more deaths into the waves. 

He was so engrossed in his own head that he didn’t even realize you had walked up to him. 

“You promised we could go to the water afterwards,” You told him, hoping that you were jogging his memory from last night.

But you didn’t need to jog Satoru’s memory, because he had been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thinking about having to watch you submerge under the water and come back up, drops of clear blue dripping down your exposed shoulders, and keeping himself from doing something that he would most likely regret when you would reject him, scolding him for his thinking. He thought about the way he wanted to put his hands on your hips and pull you as close as you possibly could get to him, taking the opportunity to pepper kisses along your smooth skin. It killed him to think that you probably didn’t think the same way about him, it was going to goddamn tear him apart.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to go back on his promise to you. It was the least he could do after thinking such sinful things about you. Gojo gave you a nod and walked beside you on the short trail to the ocean from the house you were staying at. You could hear the water ripple towards the small shoreline, coming up and then receding back again in a timely fashion. You kicked off your shoes, deciding that your tank top and pants were okay to get wet, especially since you wouldn’t take the risk of undressing in front of Satoru. As much as the thought was tempting, you knew better than to test your luck. He watched with intensity as you got into the water, going deep enough to where only the tops of your shoulders and up were exposed. Fuck, he cursed himself, did you have to look so good barely doing anything?

You cocked your head to the side. “Well … are you going to get in or just stare at me?” You asked, immediately submerging yourself under the water to ignore what he had to say about your teasing. Your heart thumped profusely as you sat there under the water holding your breath. Satoru had been looking at you.

He mentally cursed himself once again, taking his shoes off and following you into the water. It did feel good, the water having an almost calming effect over him as he walked deeper in the lake. He looked around him, taking in the appearance of all the beautiful trees that lined up, beautiful fruit hanging off of the branches. Little flowers were along the bay, facing right towards him as if they were welcoming him to their home.

The sun spilled harsh rays along his skin, causing Gojo to dip his head down fully into the water. Once he came back up for air, his eyes shifted over to you, both of you holding a type of eye contact that you swore almost knocked your breath out. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, like he was looking right into your soul and you to his, a sense of desire burning a pit in your stomach. Feeling exposed, you shifted your gaze to the fish swimming in the water near you. You could still feel his eyes on you, in them holding truths that he wished to tell you, but being unable to put the words together to explain.

-

“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

Your eyes opened at your Sensei’s voice and looked directly at him. You had been simply laying on your bed before sleeping, on your phone, trying to distract yourself with something dumb online before being able to sleep. You had only just closed your eyes as he walked in. At school they usually kept you on some kind of schedule, though here with Satoru, rules were a little - no, more loose than normal.

He once again stood in your doorframe, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in, like he didn’t feel like he had a place stepping into your bedroom. You searched his face to gauge a feeling for what he was talking about, looking for hints of mischief or anger. There was nothing, his face was completely blank, almost too blank like he was hiding something from you.

You knew you had nothing to hide — or at least nothing that he should know about. “I don’t know what you mean,” You replied, uncrossing your legs from their criss cross position and hugging them close to your chest. “Have I done something wrong?”

That answer seemed to not satisfy him, because for a moment something flickered in his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” He told you, furrowing his brows together under the mask and taking a tentative step closer into your room. “It’s just, I get this feeling when I’m around you. Like something is just gnawing at you and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Oh, you were screwed. Alarms blared in your mind, thinking about how you had let your thoughts run too much during this trip. All the worst outcomes of this came to your mind, like how he would laugh at your growing feelings towards him, how much you wanted him almost shamelessly. It made your stomach twist into several knots, wanting to bury yourself into a hole and never ever come out of it again.

Your face must’ve told it all, because he spoke again, saying, “There. Right there. I can feel it, Y/N. Just talk to me. What is going on?” Your bottom lip quivered, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this. This was it. The day you had been dreading and hoping didn’t come. Everything was about to come crash down onto your life.

“I can’t,” You said in a low voice, shifting your weight to sit at the edge of the bed, putting your head into your hands and staring down at the plush carpet in an attempt to get away from his stare. Almost as if you thought if you looked away long enough, he would suddenly disappear.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? You’re my student, you can tell me anything.”

Student. The title felt foreign in your mind now. It was something that you knew you couldn’t hold onto for much longer once the truth was out. You would be stripped of it and be a sorcerer no more. The school would hear of your feelings and immediately expel you. Student. Student. Student. The more the word bounced around in your mind the more you felt tears welling up into your eyes.

And you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it, but your hands were balling up into fists as you said, “That’s what’s wrong!” Your head tilted up, seeing that Satoru had walked closer to you, towering over your frame. His face showed confusion, not understanding what you were alluding to. He didn’t even have to say it, but his expression was saying explain.

How could you even begin?

You were wordless.

“Please . .  . I just want to help you,” Gojo told you, his hand coming to grab onto your forearm. The touch felt like hot coals on your body, scorching your soul. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” Which you knew translated to I don’t like not knowing how to fix it.

“It’s you,” You confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

For a moment, Satoru thought that he had stepped into some parallel universe. Or that this was some sort of prank let on by someone else. There was no way that this was happening, you were confessing. You had been thinking about him, probably as much as he was thinking about you. It felt as if the world had turned on its axis and was spinning the opposite direction.

You, on the other hand, were waiting for the words that never came. You expected him to immediately tell you that he was going to report you to . . . oh you didn’t even know. And yet, he stood there, almost looking as dumbfounded as you did, maybe even more. This prompted you to stand up, his hand falling down and getting dangerously close to your own.

“I know …” You started again, seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything. “I know that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the ways that I am. But I can’t stop, Satoru, you consume me.”

The usage of his name snapped him back to reality and out of his own spinning thoughts, and hearing it come from specifically your lips was not helping his frame of mind. It sounded … different coming from your mouth. Like you were saying it like a praise rather than just a passing phrase like most people did. He wanted you to say it over and over again, repeating it like a mantra you were to speak or you would die if you didn’t. His eyes flickered into your own and saw how scared you were of how he would react and how he was definitely not helping to settle your nerves.

In truth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. After all, this was not a lesson that had been given to him and he was definitely not in the best place to tell you anything, since his emotions were starting to cloud his judgment and all he could think was how he wished to tell you he felt the same way.

You waited for his response, getting impatient and wanting to just get this over with. You were waiting for the words he was supposed to say.

But Satoru didn’t always do the things he was supposed to do, in fact, he almost never did the things that he was supposed to. So why would he think to start now?

“You and I both know that this isn’t allowed,” Satoru said. “And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

A visible look of shock washed over your face, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening, heart pounding against your ribcage. His hand reached down and grabbed your own, fingertips softly touching the palm of your hand. This felt like a dream. Were you sure that you weren’t dreaming? No, this was definitely real. Satoru was in front of you for sure, confessing that he was feeling the exact same way.

Satoru tipped his head down to meet your own, his breath fanning along your face, making you shiver. Your breath hitched in your throat, his lips brushing against your own, almost like he was testing you. You could feel the tips of his hair tickling against your forehead, nose against nose. You were so close. The hand on your own was grasping now, pulling your body close to his. And the two of you sat there, lips millimeters close while each of your minds buzzed with the feeling of doing something so daring.

You felt yourself going mad, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t wait. All of your feelings erupted inside of your throat and suddenly you were kissing him, lips smashing against his own with no care in the world. You didn’t care about the ramifications, the school … anything. All you cared about was Gojo, wanting as much of him that he was willing to give you.

You had never really kissed anyone before. There was a moment back when you were only ten and you were with another student, seeing one of the citizens of Tokyo kissing each other on the street. Interested in what they were doing, you and your friend kissed, thinking that it was weird and dismissing it. That had been your first kiss, a rather embarrassing one, but it was nothing compared to the way Gojo kissed you. He kissed you like there was a purpose to every single move of his muscles. He kissed you like you were forbidden fruit and he was starving.

His other hand came up to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and keeping your face close to his. For just a moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you made a small sound, butterflies swarming in your stomach. You tried to mimic what he was doing, going with your instincts and grasping onto his bicep, feeling the taut muscles under your touch.

Everything about yours and his actions were needy and hungry, wanting each other with such need that you had pushed down for so long. All of it seemed to come out of you like crashing waves. The kissing was nice, though after a while you needed more, you were dying for more of him. Please, Satoru, you thought.

As if he could read your thoughts, he pulled away, a string of saliva the only thing connecting you two. “What do you want?” He whispered, tilting his head to the side and giving you one of those damn smirks of his. Of course he wanted you to say it. And you knew better than to not do what he wanted. 

“You, Satoru, I want you,” You whispered to him, as if someone was going to hear if you talked too loud. “Please.” You thought that you probably sounded like someone desperate, and in a way you were, you had waited for this forever and had convinced yourself that it would never happen. But he thought the exact opposite, he marveled in the way that you looked at him, wanting to show you how much you truly meant to him. The attraction and lust was there, intermingled with something more that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

He didn’t hesitate to give you what you wanted, slowly inching you towards the bed and helping you rest on your back, the silk sheets against the back of your arms and neck. Satoru was quick to follow, climbing on top of you and connecting his lips onto the skin right below your jaw. His lips were soft like snowflakes falling onto your skin, creating a masterpiece on your skin like you were his canvas. It all felt too good, the heightening the sensations to an almost unbearable amount. It sent shockwaves to your core, igniting a feeling you often only felt during the late hours of the night.

Seeing how well your body responded to him, well, almost drove Gojo crazy. You were so willing, so ready for him that his mind became cloudy, the only thing he could make out was his thoughts of you. His lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck, paying extra attention to the places that made you breathe out more than the others. He pressed a searing kiss to your pulse point, his teeth grazing the nerve and using his lips to suck a deep, purple mark into your skin. And then, when he felt it was the right time, he did it again and again, properly marking you as his. He didn’t care anymore. Your hands found their respective place in his hair, feeling the softness of the blond tufts between your fingers. It was so damn soft that you wondered how you had resisted the urge for so long before. 

Your clothes suddenly felt foreign on your body, you wanted them off, you wanted his off so that you could see all of him. He seemed to hear your thoughts, humming against your skin and pulling away, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips and helping you get out of them, and in turn you helped him get out of his.

Gojo’s body was like nothing you imagined. He was breathtaking. You knew that he had a nice body because of all the training and countless amounts of physical strain he has been through, but looking at those abs that he had, along with the sun kissed skin he had, you felt your throat close up, feeling inferior to what he looked like. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He said. “Don’t ever think that you’re not.” And you believed him.

His hands came to your hips, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear that was the only thing blocking him from seeing you fully. His eyes scanned you, taking in the sheer and utter beauty before him. He wanted to kiss, lick, and nip on every single inch of skin on you. He wanted to learn each and every single curve, hear every story behind your scars, and know just what touches would have you squirming from underneath him. He wanted to know exactly where he had to kiss to get those sweet sounds out from you and he was sure that he could spend hours just doing that. 

No one has seen you this exposed before. You didn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed, because he seemed to know what he was doing. You hadn’t felt the need to do anything like this with anyone else, not when you were too busy lusting over your teacher for so long. You didn’t want anyone to take that last bit of innocence from you except him, you were sure of it. And only now did you actually realize what was going to happen. Who was he to leave you pining and wanting, when you were basically offering your virginity up on a silver platter for him?

Your whole body felt hot, needing to feel the release that was beginning to build up from all of his kisses and your imagination running its course. “Satoru,” You breathed out, not knowing how to form into words what you wanted from him. Of course he knew, he could feel your hands pulling into his hair, all the while he began to whisper all the dirty little things that he wanted to do with you. How he wanted to keep you here all for himself, how he wanted to taste every single inch of you, and everything else that he could think about. After all, neither of you were hiding anything anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do to you so that he could hear the plethora of moans that he knew you had just for him, wanting to hear his name come off of your lips in pleasure.

His head ducked down and kissed your hipbone, fingers hooking under your underwear and slowly sliding them off. Your eyes stayed on his actions, mouth forming into an ‘O’ when you realized what he was going to do. He was going to use his mouth on you. These were only things that you thought in your deepest, darkest fantasies, like he had reached into those parts of your mind and did exactly what you wanted.

As if Satoru was just tempting you, he pressed another slow kiss to the inside of your thigh and then did the same thing to the other side. Your hips lifted up only slightly, showing him that you couldn’t wait much longer. A chuckle left him, eyes reaching your own and saying, “Eager?” You weren’t even ashamed when you shook your head, keeping eye contact with him as he licked a bold stripe right up your slit. It felt as if an earthquake hit your body, your back arching and hands gripping onto his hair.

He hummed against you, liking the way that you responded to his actions. If he had it his way, he would sit here with you like this for hours on end, bringing you up to that high place again and again until you were a wrecked mess before him. It made him simply go crazy to think that he was the first person to ever do this to you, that he would be the first of anyone to hear those moans and profanities that slipped from your cherry kissed lips. Satoru’s own thoughts made him groan out, a noise that you played on repeat in your mind as your eyes screwed closed.

Your thighs quivered beside his face, attempting to squeeze shut so that you could keep him there forever. But his hands came and held them in place, fingers digging into your muscles that gave in to his touch like it was nothing. You were putty in his hands, the only movement you had was your hands pulling on his hair and the arch of your back while he lapped his tongue against you with no mercy.

“Stay still,” He told you, pulling away for a moment to lick what was left of you on his lips. You nodded, chest heaving and heart sinking at the loss of contact. But Satoru didn’t leave for long, his mouth on your clit accompanied with one of his fingers circling your entrance. You nearly lost it when he dipped his middle finger in experimentally, gauging your reaction. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, which only amplified once his finger pushed into you all the way.

You didn’t even attempt to try and censor the obscenities that came out of your mouth, mixed in rhyme with his name. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. It was the only word that felt real in your mind.

You waited for that final jump towards a euphoric end, but it never came. Instead Satoru pulled away from you and his fingers left, making you feel uneasily empty. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was pulling down his boxers, taking his cock into his hands and watching as you almost became slack jawed - realizing what was about to happen. A moment of worry nestled its way into your mind, making your heart thump. If anyone was to find out, you would surely not be accepted back into the school. You would never be able to have Gojo again. It was your moment to choose. You knew that if you backed out, at least you would be able to work under him still and not have his affections. It would be better than never seeing him again. And yet, you couldn’t see your life without him, all of him. Not just the side that was your Sensei.

Satoru sensed your worry, taking your chin in his hands so that you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” He asked you, not wanting to move forward before you were ready. And God, were you ready. “Because once I start, I don’t think that I’m ever going to get enough of this pretty pussy.” 

And with all the courage that you mustered up, you gave him a small smile and said, “Yes.” You felt like you were flinging yourself off of some sort of cliff, or even more sinfully feeling like you were Persephone, cutting up her own slice of pomegranate and looking right into Hades eyes as she tasted the fruit, securing your fate that you would stay with him. You would stay with Satoru, even if it was only for this night.

He nestled between your legs and you could feel his tip press against your entrance. Air was caught in your lungs, sitting up on your elbows so that you could see as he eased himself into you. A sting of pain and a subtle feeling of pleasure was seated inside of you, watching as his cock was enveloped by you inch by inch. Satoru hissed at the feeling, you were so goddamn tight and he never wanted to stop from being inside of you. You looked down at where he was inside, thinking about how you could do this all day every day for the rest of your life. You now understood why this was so talked about, why your body craved it so much. Once all of him was inside, he leaned over so his head was in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your searing skin as you adjusted to him bottoming out.

You urged him to continue, thinking that the discomfort would soon go away with time. And you were eager to get all of him that you could, temptation coming forward instead of reason. He pulled out all the way then eased himself back in, continuing the slower pace and watching your reaction before him, your hands reaching to his back and finding their place there. One of his hands kept your legs open, taking you by your thigh and hoisting it up.

It took all that he could muster to not just ram into you, the want starting to cloud his judgment. The cursed energy between the two of you felt as if it was pushing both you and him towards each other, the connection almost driving each of you crazy. “You feel …” He started. “You feel so good.” That alone, along with the raspiness in his voice, made a fire erupt in your stomach. You sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed once again.

And then, much to his surprise, you whispered, “Go faster, Satoru.” You needed him so bad you felt like you were going to explode, lust enveloping the both of you and intertwining with your energies.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he gripped onto the leg he lifted up, beginning a slightly faster rhythm that had you arching your neck and back, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Satoru was so big, stretching you out in just the right way that had you almost keeling over if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on you. Your one leg wrapped along his waist, heel digging into his back while his pace increased.

This angle he had you in made you yelp and moan shamelessly, not caring if people all the way in the capital could hear you as you yelled his name like a prayer. His pace finally became a fast rhythm and you found comfort in being able to finally feel nothing but pleasure with every deep stroke he made.

In this place, it was only you and him. Like you were in your own little place of paradise where you could explore each other in every way. There was nothing that could take this moment from you or him, this moment would forever be engraved in your mind for many years to come, remembering the way that he moaned out your name and the way he looked when you opened your eyes to peek at his face. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead and mouth spilled open saying nothing but your name.

He made you feel so good, so euphoric that the fire grew and grew, becoming a wildfire raging inside of you. And you looked so heavenly to him, the way that your eyes only looked at him, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust he gave you. You took him so well, like you were made for only him. His hips brushed against your own, hand coming up to caress your cheek, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I want to see you look at me when I fuck you,” he whispered, a deep sense of posessiveness suddenly washing over him. 

You weren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way that he was pounding into you with sheer force you didn’t know was possible until now. But you didn’t want this to end, you never wanted this to end in fear that things would go back to the way they were before. You would have to try and forget that this ever happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t even know if you had the strength to do it. After this moment both of you would be connected.

You made a guttural noise, teetering over the edge of what felt like a wave of bliss. This was it, there was no way that you could keep yourself from it now. It only took a singular deep stroke of his cock to send you right over the edge, your back arching and body spasming, his name rolling off of your tongue in the most sinful way you have ever said it before. Your hands gripped for any part of him that you could reach, groping his muscles to keep him close to you. He didn’t stop moving inside of you, making you ride it out even harder as he chased his own high. 

“Yeah? You came all over my cock like a good student, didn’t you?” 

You could only whimper in response. 

You were so sensitive as he fucked into you, giving you no mercy. He groaned as you came, watching the way that your eyes screwed shut and mouth opening in as you sucked in harsh breaths. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, wondering if he was going to cum inside of you or pull out before he did. He did the latter, taking one more deep stroke before pulling out. Satoru was about to start stroking himself with his hand but you rushed with your own to meet him there, using your own and pumping a few times.

A string of profanities came from his lips as he came, white hot liquid spurting onto your stomach, dripping like beads coating your skin. He had no shame as he shuddered, muscles flexing with every passing second. He drank in your body, seeing how wet you were for him, how soft your hand was on his cock, how much he longed to see you like this more times before you and him left. And soon enough he was finished, the only thing between both of you was both of your panting breaths.

Satoru moved to grab something on the floor, realizing that it was the shirt he had on before and moving to wipe your stomach off, dropping it to the floor and coming to lay down next to you. You winced for a moment as you moved to look at him, his own eyes staring at the ceiling. You were scared of what was to come next, if there was anything that was supposed to come next. You knew that the two of you couldn’t be together, at least openly, though it was even risky to continue doing something like this in private.

“Satoru,” You called out to him, forcing him to look at you. “What will happen next?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know,” He responded. All he knew was that he wanted you, again and again. In the domestic moments and in the explicit ones like before. You were so tantalizing, and he realized now that because he had tasted the forbidden fruit that was you, he would never be able to stop. There was simply no way that he would be able to conceal his want for you from you anymore.

You waited for his answer, knowing that it would probably be one you didn’t want to hear. But for the second time this evening, Satoru surprised you again.

He leaned over and kissed you.

And you knew his answer from that.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru #satoru smut #satoru x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you

[puck-luck]

forced proximity with jack even though you guys are enemies… so you guys say 👀

lucky lift | jack hughes

warnings: elevator sex, enemies to FWB, secret pining on jack’s side, hj, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing/general dirty talk (aka i just like writing dialogue) pairing: jack hughes x reader summary: the one when you hook up with your work enemy on a whim wc: 1468

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” You hiss. “You know I don’t like this any more than you do.”

To top off a shitty day, in which you had woken up late, spilled coffee on the shirt that you had been waiting to wear all week, and tripped up the stairs in full view of everyone in the office, you were now stuck– nay, you were trapped, cornered, imprisoned– in the elevator with none other than Jack Hughes.

You and Jack had been working at this company for the same amount of time, both of you hired in the same week, trained by the same people, and working on the same projects. You hated each other. You supposed you hated Jack first, but it was only because he made everything so competitive. He claimed he couldn’t help it when your work bestie brought it up to him (much to your chagrin), “because he was an athlete when he was younger.”

In an ideal world, this “athlete” could pry open the doors of the elevator so you could make an escape. Instead, he’s staring at you with an amused smirk on his face while you do all the work.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Jack scoffs. 

“Maybe I do hate it more than you,” You bite back. “You seem awfully content over there to watch me do all the work.”

“I called for help,” Jack reminds you. “They said two hours. To me. I don’t remember you offering to call.”

“I didn’t have service,” You say through gritted teeth. 

“Get a better provider,” Jack says in the same tone. 

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

“I think you’re really easy to piss off.” Jack’s smile pulls at the sides of his lips in a way that’s almost endearing, but you also want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.

“I think you–”

“I also think the stain on your shirt from your coffee has gotten worse with the sweat from all your efforts to escape,” Jack interrupts. “Maybe you should take it off.”

The initial surprise that came with his statement turns to anger at his arrogance. “Excuse me?” You exclaim, stalking over to him and whacking his arm. “You’re coming onto me? As if you couldn’t make this situation any worse?”

“We might as well have fun with it,” Jack says with a shrug, shying away from your violent slaps. 

“I don’t even like you,” You point out. “You don’t even like me.”

Jack reaches a hand up and cups your cheek, silencing you. “Does it matter?” 

The weight of his hand against your face and the pure honesty of his tone causes your stomach to turn. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him like that before, but it was rare. It was during the monthly meetings Jack led, when he had to wear more business professional clothing, and he always decided to roll up his sleeves post-meeting and lose the jacket. You usually caught him in the break room brewing his own coffee, focused and straight-faced like he was about to reenter the meeting rather than celebrate its end. 

“No,” You decide. 

You allow him to pull you in, pressing your lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You never thought Jack was the kind to savor something, but here you were. He’s slow with his movements, his fingers trailing over your curves and ridges like he’s trying to map your body. 

“You’re going too slow,” You complain, palming the front of his dress pants. You fit your hand on his bulge, rubbing over it until he lets out a moan. “Let’s speed things up.”

“I want to enjoy this,” Jack mumbles and you can barely hear him.

“You will,” You tell him, unzipping his pants and reaching into his boxers. You circle your hand around his dick, pumping him from base to tip, using his precum to make the glide smoother. 

“No,” Jack groans and tilts his head back. “I want to enjoy this.”

You pause your movements. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack bucks his hips up into your hand, your grip loose around him while you wait for him to explain. “You’re just so pretty when you’re mad at me.”

“Oh,” You breathe out. 

“And you’re mad at me all the time,” Jack whines. He pushes you against the wall of the elevator, leaning in to leave kisses along your neck. He sucks at the underside of your jaw, leaving a cool circle of saliva when he trails his lips lower. “Wanted to fuck you for so long now, Y/N.”

He presses his hips into your body, your hand still trapped in his pants. You remove it as his hands cover the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, you immediately circling your legs around his waist. He uses one hand to push his pants down, his belt clinking against the floor as the fabric pools around his feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth and causing him to groan. Jack pulls your skirt up and moves your panties to the side, movements quick now that he admitted his secret to you.

He presses himself inside of you, feeding his cock into your tight, wet cunt. 

“Feels so good,” Jack whispers. “So tight, baby. So wet.”

“Fuck me, Jack,” You tell him, voice strong. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Gonna,” Jack agrees with a moan, rolling his hips sensually. 

Jack steps forward until he can hold you up against the wall and push one leg so your ankle rests on his shoulder. He turns and gives your ankle a kiss, then bows his head to watch himself enter you to a rhythm that only he knows. Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.

“Not gonna last,” Jack chokes out, clutching at your waist. 

“Gonna come in me?” You tease, nipping at Jack’s earlobe.

Jack lets out a high keen, his mouth falling open and his eyelids fluttering shut as your entrance flutters around him, causing him to come undone inside of you. His breaths come out as stuttered as his thrusts do, his come warm inside you and leaking out when he draws himself out of you. 

Jack keeps you pressed against the wall of the elevator, but lowers himself to his knees.

“Gonna clean you up,” Jack promises. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, your ankles crossed behind his back. His hands pull at your ass cheeks, kneading them. 

“J,” You whimper when Jack attaches his lips to your entrance. He moans against your hole, flicking his tongue against your hole like a dog drinking from a bowl of water. He nuzzles his face into your cunt and brings a hand around to rub your clit in quick circles.

“Y’look so good,” Jack praises, his eyes so big and blue from where they look up at you. “You gonna come? Gonna mix us together, give me something to really enjoy?”

“Oh,” You exclaim, your fingers lacing into Jack’s hair. Your hips buck against his face and he slips a finger into your hole, pushing it in and out of you and curling it as he laps at your clit. “Fuck, Jack, just like that.”

Miraculously, he listens to you and only intensifies his actions, pumping a second finger into you.

You choke on a wail as you come on his fingers, the climax causing your head to fall back against the wall of the elevator with force. Jack stifles a laugh, but continues to lick at your come (and his own) until you’re removing your hands from his hair and trying to get your feet back on solid ground.

“You know, I like you like this,” Jack teases, fixing your panties for you and moving your skirt back to its original position. He pulls his own pants up when he rises, tucking himself away and buckling his belt with his very talented fingers. “All fucked out.”

“If anything, I’m the one who fucked you,” You bite back. “You came first and you ate your own come out of me."

“Mmm, next time I’ll leave it inside of you,” Jack says with a short kiss to your neck, adjusting the collar of your blouse. His hand ghosts over your neck and he feels the way your breath hitches. “Maybe we should get to the office early one day and I’ll bend you over my desk. You’ll have to walk around all day, feeling my come drip out of you. You’ll be begging me to clean you up then.”

note: ugh office enemies is a trope that i need in my life. if i'm going to be a slave to the work force i am going to fuck my hot enemy jack hughes whenever i can!

#puck-luck's fics #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄

[venmondiese]

Anxiety Relieving Purposes

✧ part 1: stress relieving purposes ✧

Summary: Exam week has arrived so you have a another brilliant idea for you and Aemond. Seeing him full of dread and anxiety, you think of the best way of calming him.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, free use, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), no protection, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight (not so slight) size kink, fingering, aemond being a tease. ✧Word Count: 6.7k ✧Note: so..... aemond's exam is fully here!! and all the things he studied are things that I AM studying at the moment so yeah #studying and writing. I have weeks FULL of things, and may seems (at the moment) very empty, so I will try to work on my wips there!!

The day of the famous exam, Aemond was outside the classroom, as he waited for his name to be called. His turn was near at 16:15 pm, so he came with anticipation, as the professor asked for them to wait in case a space was available for whatever reason. 

14:01, his expensive watch said. It was his grandfather’s, and he asked his father to give it to him, ignoring the fact that he conveniently asked when his father was high on medications, but that was another thing. He even wore that seven pointed star necklace his mum gave to him, so the Gods may be with him. 

This class was brutal, and he knew it. He knew very well when he enrolled with this particular professor. It was hard, but you learnt everything. And he, the pretentious ambitious little shit that he was, did it willingly. 

He should have listened to you. Your exam? To start, it wasn’t even oral like this one, and you could take your notes to the exams, because it was mostly rational and analytical thinking. Have you learned much? No, but you were passing.

And it wasn’t like he got bad grades, in fact he was one of the brilliant few people in the class. The thing is that this particular exam was valued at 40% whereas the rest of papers and exams were barely over 15%. If someone failed this one it was the end. 

He took a drag of his cigarette, leaning over the open window of the hallway, so the smell of cigarette wasn’t so evident. He wanted to do this oral exam as quickly as possible, so he was waiting like a vulture around the classroom.

When a single hand covers his only functioning eye, he sighs as he smokes, rolling his eye under your hand.

“Guess who!” It is your animated voice, and even without saying anything, he’d know it was you.

“You little shit” He says, taking your hand off. “You really just covered one of my eyes?”

As he turns, he sees you holding a bucket of fried chicken, and he has to smirk. 

“Well, I had to hold your lunch with the other hand, duh.” You say smugly, almost proud of this little surprise for him. “You know that five cigarettes do not count as lunch?”

“It does when you are anxious. And about to throw up” He adds, as he looks a bit at the closed door of the auditory, and he sighs. 

Your smug smile softens, and you leave the bucket of food on the near table, and you wrap your arms around him, as he decides to kill his cigarette on the ashtray, to wrap his arms around you as well.

“You’ll do fine” You whisper, assuring him of it. “And the professor will be so surprised that he’ll stand up and do a public ovation for you” You add teasingly. 

“That’s so…” He says giggling at the idea, his tight stomach feels more at ease at your silly jokes. “Stupid”

“It is in the future.” You say, convinced “And he’ll immediately give you a doctorate, and then you’ll work and maintain me, of course.” 

He chuckles amused, rubbing you back as he looks where your chin rests against his chest, looking up to him. “And I’ll do that willingly? Oh gods, maybe I’ll fail the exam, then”

You laugh as you hit the side of his left rib, and he tightens his embrace slightly.

“I’ll pay you well” You say nodding.

“How so?”

“I’ll clean the house, and I’ll be your pretty maid which from occasion to occasion sucks your dick”

“I think I'll be better if you become my personal sex slave” he whispers with a smug smirk, and he feels your hand slapping the side of his rib again. “Because you are already my slut, no?”

“Imbecile. And look at me, buying you lunch. Fried chicken, the spicy one that you like.” You add the last thing, separating from his hug as you cross your arms. “Men are disgusting, they want only one thing” You dramatise as he laughs at your words.

“Fine, fine… we’ll eat the fried chicken. You’ll feed me yourself?”

“You are insane if you think…” Your voice trails off as you see how his smile fades and he tilts his head to watch the students leaving the auditory.

You turn to watch the scene, a girl clearly crying as she makes her way to the bathroom. Baela comes out of the classroom, slightly defeated, with another student. One of the assistants of the professor closes the door, so they discuss the answers immediately. 

Aemond walks hushedly next to Baela, as you grab the bucket to follow him. You can see how his body is tense, walking hushedly and full of anxiety.

“How did it go?” Aemond joins the conversation as Baela is the first of the group to get out, and you see Cregan and Jace get close too, along with other fellow students.

“It fucked me” Baela admits shaking her head.

You can feel the anxiety along the group, and you stand next to Aemond, looking at him as he places a hand on his mouth as if to think what the hell and how the fuck he will get over this.

“What did they ask you?” You dare to ask.

“ How biopower by Foucault could relationate with Deleuze and Guattari’s… notion of desiring-production, how the concepts contribute to the understanding of modern forms of governance and subjectivity as seen in class.” She says and everyone looked extremely horrified by the question itself. 

“Holy fuck” Jace mutters.

“And Moeria? What about her? She left crying..” Cregan says as he looks at Baela.

 “ How Foucault’s disciplinary power intersects with Judith Butler’s performativity? With examples from each perspective and respective works… and how they work together, something like that”

“That was easy!” Aemond says, frustrated, because he wasn’t the one to get that question. You see how his own hand starts picking on his cuticles, and breaking his nails in anxiousness.

“Fucking Foucault…” Jace murmurs as he sighs horrified. 

You can see how Aemond’s hand trembled slightly, he was as well horrified. He’d told you, there were only 40 questions, randomly selected. He had to study hard, read like five books just to get asked one question. And when the easiest left, only the hard ones left for the ones at the very end.

“Let’s eat” You say, taking his hand, and he looks at you, with uncertainty in his eyes, as he nods slightly. He was anxious, you could see. “Destroying your hands won’t leave you at ease… Food might” You add with a gentle smile.

He nodded, sighing as he was tired. You exchanged slight awkward looks with Cregan as he waved his hand to you and you smiled politely, before walking away with Aemond. 

“I could have answered that one…” He whines as you two walk downstairs to eat. “It was far too easy. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” You ask just to leave him let all out. 

“If you add Foucault's insights into disciplinary power with Butler's theory of performativity, you get this more… full understanding of how social control operates through the regulation of bodies and identities! Together you can see the…the complex interplay that there is always is between power, discourse, and subjectivity in… shaping the understanding of self and society.” He says frustrated, as he follows you.

“Well, do not worry. Maybe you’ll get Foucault as you so adore him.”

“I swear that if someone else gets something about the panopticon… I will kill myself” 

“You won’t kill yourself over that”

“I’ll get the easiest top mark ever” He says very seriously about it. “It’s so easy I learned it when I was like two years old”

“You are over exaggerating, Aemond” You say as you both walk to the outside of the building, as you find a bench for you two to sit. “Relax”

“It is not in my nature”

“Believe me when I say that I know that” You say as you pat your side for him to sit. “That’s why I brought the best fried chicken ever.” As you open the bucket, he leans slightly as he puts some alcohol gel on his hands, ready to eat. He was starving, between the ball of anxiousness stuck on his stomach. “It is not as warm, but…”

“It could be cold, but I’d love it anyway because you brought them for me.” He says looking at you “You don’t even have classes today”

“No, I do not. That’s the thing when you are just the best student in class, you tend to approve earlier than the rest…”

“Oh, shush” He says as he grabs one and he makes a delighted moan as he eats it. “It’s so good. I needed this”

“The food or me?”

He rolls his eye, but lowkey, he knows that the answer is you. 

You two enjoy the food together, as you try to lighten up his mood. He is still very tense, his shoulders do not seem slightly as ease, and he was still trying to destroy his cuticles.

You look at his face. He looks slightly off. Aemond, who was very much perfectionist on his appearance, seems not to have cared enough these days. It felt like that, you knew. Studying hard so that you pass the appropriate time to bath, eat or sleep. 

The thing with Aemond is that he is utterly obsessive. A perfectionist at heart, and he likes things to do as he planned. Gives him security and confidence, and he always gave his whole soul to something so important for him. You sigh with a smile, as you feel bad for him as he seems so unease.

You lean to kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to look at you, getting out of his dissociated state. “Huh?”

Your eyebrows go up as if to ask him what he meant, as you smile. 

“What was that for?”

“I think you needed it” You say as he rolls his eye amused, leaving the empty bucket away. He looks at you, the university mostly empty, since most of the people already passed their classes and did not attend further, like you. He surely was lucky to have you, if it weren’t for you he’d surely still miss Alys. He does miss her sometimes, but after a long talk with you, he realises that she is not that worth it. But feelings don’t go away that easily, but it is clearly not love 

“Huh. What I need is a divine illumination right now” He says looking at his clock. 14:37.

“You need to calm your anxiety” You state, taking his hand on yours, and smiling at him. “Look at me.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, but he turns his body a bit to face you properly. “You know this. You read the whole books, and you knew all of it. You will nail this. There is no one here who knows the answer as you do.”

“You are far too kind” He says, his lips slightly curving. “And too good for my ego” he adds.

“Idiot. You see, you’ll end up like the assistants of the professor.”

“ I wish” he says dramatically. “The blonde one passed the exam with a hundred. Maybe she was asked about the panopticon. I swear it is so easy, I made an essay about 1984 and the whole theory of it.” he murmurs, still grumpy as he crosses his arms. “You know, there is a theory that she fucked the professor for it.”

You love good gossip, and you raise your eyebrows as your smirk is very much amused.

“Oh, is that so?”

“I mean, probably comes from envy and misogyny” he adds, rolling his eyes. “But If you get asked the easiest question…”

“Maybe you should fuck the professor as well.” you tease as he laughs a bit, less tense as his whole body moves at the amusement. 

You look at him for a brief moment, as the thought lingers in your mind for a moment. You look at him, and a very bad idea forms in your mind. Bad, but… fruitful.

You look at him, he was still tense, but less than before. His right left bounced slightly, and you looked at how huge his thigh looked against yours, even sitting on the same bench. 

You knew Aemond went to the gym almost daily, and he was very much into it, it was just his (other) way to relieve stress. He always talked about it, and you remember the occasion at Jacaerys’ sevenmas party when he and Jason Lannister had the brilliant idea to compete about who could do more pull ups without dying.

You have to press your thighs together at the memory of it. He was sweaty, and you remembered him gruting, and exhaling profoundly as he kept going. Because if Aemond was one thing, it was competitive. 

And he was more than willing to keep going with anyone who dared to challenge him. He went round after round, and you were like his personal spotter as he tried to win everyone. Sure, after going on several rounds with different people he had to back away.

You remember you and him laying on the couch as he expressed his body and arms burning from the sting. Back then, it wasn’t as arousing as it is now.

“I have just the right idea to help you” you say looking at him, as you already feel aroused. God, he was unaware of the lustful feelings he provoked in you.

“Oh gods.” Aemond says, turning to look at you. “How long will this bad idea take? I have like hour and a half”

 “It depends. Not much, I think. Well, this time, at least” You say with a giggle, and he looks at you puzzled. And you lean slightly closer. “I think you’ll like it”

Aemond blinks, as he is not sure what this idea entails.

“you have such bad ideas” he groans and you slap his arm as you chuckle.

“Hey! I have great ideas” 

“The last idea you had to help me was… were two actually. The first one being setting me up with Floris Baratheon and you with Cregan to use sex to destress”

“And? Did it go wrong??” You say.

“Your idea, yes. My idea, no. Which I remind you, was us sleeping together. Because it was my idea and I want the credit” he says smirking smugly. 

“But it was thanks to my idea”

“And the second one” he ignores your weak attempt to recover credit. “Were you cockwarming me as I read Foucault” he states amused. 

“Foucault would have loved that idea.” You say crossing your arms.

“it was a bad idea, admit it” he says amused looking at you. 

“Oh, so you aren’t in for cockwarming?” 

“No, I didn't say that” he says amused at how you turn the table on him. “I meant studying while you look so delightful, and your pussy warms my cock” he whispers slowly to you with a smirk “and you expect me to be okay with that and just read Foucault?” 

“Okay. But this one is good” you say smiling “Hear me out” 

Aemond rolls his eyes amused, but he sits back as he hears you, with an endearing smile as he does so. 

“You and I could… you know, we could relieve stress again” 

Aemond blinks slightly put off, and he looks at you.

“Like right now?”

“When else you’d be this stressed?” You ask as if he was stupid.

“Well, apologies for being rational and full of moments of stress” Aemond says “Besides, there are no places…”

“The bathroom, an empty class-”

“No places” He insists again, as if turning away your proposal. “And they’ll kick us out. And reading those books will be worthless.”

“They practically sucked your family dick for you to get in, Aemond. They won’t kick you out. Aegon probably did it…”

“Don’t compare us to Aegon-” 

“And he is still here, after changing like three times his career and failing all the classes.” you add nodding.

“I am not the one who won’t enter anywhere else”

“HEY!” you say slapping his arm as he laughs, and he passes an arm in your waist to scoop you closer as you cross your arms and look away in pride. “and the fool just wants to help you”

Aemond chuckles, as his face kisses your cheek, but you still look away, stubbornly. 

“I am joking, love” Aemond says softly, and he leans to kiss you neck softly. “We could do that”

“No, now I don’t want to” 

“You are being a brat…” he says mockingly, still smiling, and his arm around you keeps you pressed against him, as his hand rubs slightly your waist. “Come on. Don’t you wanna help me destress? Don’t you want my cock in your pretty pussy?” He whispers in your ear, placing his left hand on your thigh.

Sincerely, fuck him, because you immediately turn to look at him, and he knows how to push your buttons. He looks at you with the corners of his lips slightly turned up, as he nods softly. 

He is a little shit, persuading you to follow him to the bathroom. It was merely an idea, you knew he’d make fun from it, but not after that, he would take it to heart. 

You walk across the campus, almost empty from people that simply finished their courses or they were in class right now. And he holds your hand firmly as you head to the bathroom.

On campus, there were multiple bathrooms, but only one gender neutral bathroom. You two used to joke that this is were one came to fuck or get high. And no one really used them, as weird as it was. They weren’t always functional, and the doors tend to get stuck. But the mayor plus, is that they weren’t really dirty, nor people would come in.

Aemond leaves his backpack on the hanger inside the cubicle and you frown slightly. He didn’t bring his usual leather bag, and you point it out.

“I will go to the gym after this. I have my towel and my clothes” He explains softly, closing the door behind you and you hand your little purse too. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t as luxurious to have a bed.

“Okay. How do we…” you move your hands trying to see how the fuck you’ll do it. “I mean, I didn’t think how…”

“I don’t think anyone thinks before having sex, darling.” He says looking at the clean bathroom, it was better than anything. The floor was clean, and Aemond could see their reflections on the black shiny tiles. “Hm.” Aemond says, looking at you. “I have a few ideas…”

“You are still tense” you say looking at how his shoulder tense up. You move your hands to caress his shoulders, and look at him “Don’t be”

“It’s like telling a sad person just not to be”

You roll your eyes, and shake your head with annoyance. “Shut up.” 

You two remain silent, as if thinking how. You had a toilet, a sink and lots of hope. 

“It feels like… too dirty” you look up to him.

“Yes.” He agrees, as you two look at eachother. “We certainly don’t have to. I’ll be fine, you know. I appreciate…”

“No” you cut him immediately. “I’ll do it.” You insist, shaking your head at his proposals. “You look… honestly, terrible”

“Ah, thanks for the support” he says rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms. 

“It’s hot” you insist, as you grab his forehand to uncross his arms. You move his arms to place them around your waist, as you walk closer to him, looking up to him. “Seeing you all stressed and tense…” 

Aemond arches his left eyebrow, as his hand finds its way to your waist, holding you. He had no idea how you could lust him as you spoke how emaciated he was, but it was working.  

He smelled like coffee and cigarettes, and you smiled at him. Your hands caressed his chest, his pectorals were something else, as he looked at you, intrigued.

“I have to do something about it” you insist, looking up to him, your hands caressing his abdomen softly. “So… tell me what to do”

Aemond looks at you. His cock was already stirring, he could feel how he was growing on his pants, hard and needy. It is a slow torture, to be sure.

“Surprise me..” he says without really thinking. 

“No..” you shake your head. “You are very stressed, and it is a very important moment for you. You need to… relieve that stress. And I… allow you to use my body how you see fit. However you see fit. ” 

Aemond blinks, a bit baffled by such a proposal. Sure, the bathrooms weren't the ideal place for this, but his cock didn't think the same now, not when you were willing to please his tastes completely, and let him use your body to his liking. 

You move your hands to unbelt his pants, slowly as his hand loosen its grip on your waist, and look at your face as you seem so eager to see once again his cock.  

“Are you hard?” You ask softly, a rhetorical question as you feel his cock against his underwear, and you look up to him as you palm him a bit.

“Yeah” he murmurs, his voice like a grunt. 

“Want me to suck your dick?” 

Aemond takes a deep breath, as the corners of his mouth seem to go slightly up. He is getting annoyed at your teasing, but not the bad type of annoyed. The type of annoyed when you “behave like a brat” as he puts it, and he enjoys keeping you in line.

Whenever you insist on skipping class, he has to keep a close eye on you. If you insist on trying to get with someone which is no good for you, he has to keep you by his side. When you want to do something reckless, he stops you, a hand steady on your waist. 

“You know the answer” he says softly.

“Yes” your smile is cheeky as you move your shoulders “so?” 

Aemond sighs, his hands rubbing your arms and shoulder. “Yes. I want you to suck my dick” he says simply, and you smile a bit. “But I am sure you want to have my cock as well. Badly” he adds. 

You smile at him, and nod, feigning innocence.

“Then kneel”

“Floor is dirty” you remind him with a smirk. “Not the best-”

“Kneel on my feet.” he does not hesitate. “Won’t be dirty at all. You like being at my feet, don’t you?”

Your cheeks slightly burn from the remark. You look at him, and he looks nothing but smug.  You sometimes really hate him.

His boots are perfectly clean, you can picture him cleaning every little detail of his outfit so he looks presentable and even more perfect for his exam. It is both endearing and hot.

Your knees go to rest on his shoes. A bit uncomfortable, a bit too close. Forced proximity to his crotch, as he pulled his boxers down. 

You look up to him as your mouth salivates at the sight, his cock fat, big and swollen, getting harder by the second. It hits his own abdomen, tall and proud. 

You accommodate a bit your knees on his shoes, making sure it doesn’t hurt him for you to place your weight on his feet. Yet he doesn’t seem even fazed by that.

“Go on” he murmurs, moving some hairs out of your face, as he leans for his back to rest against the cold ceramic wall. He looks at you, his arousal growing as you press your lips to the base of his cock to kiss it, and you basically are taking your time for it, his face pressed against his cock as you leave little kisses on his base, going all up to his tip.

The weight of your knees on his feet is slightly uncomfortable, but he is too aroused, that it only fuels his lust for you. 

“We don’t have all the time” he murmurs, taking your hair to guide you.

“You don’t rush art-”

“Come on” he grunts as his fist is more tight to your hair. “You said I could use you as I wish. So shut up and take it” 

God damn you if it didn’t turn you on.

His grip on your hair was firm, as his other hand went to rest at the top of your neck, holding your jaw. You are forced to have his dick on your mouth and the plus was that you could see his face perfectly.

At first, he lets you accommodate his cock on your mouth. He holds you, as if guiding you to it. You don’t have to do anything but be pretty, and open your mouth. And of course, taking his massive cock on your throat. 

You look at him with glossy eyes as he has his way in your throat, gently, holding you softly and soothing you, making you more receptive to all. 

“Shhhh, there, you are doing so good” His soothing voice comes in a low voice, as he has that pleased expression on his face, biting his lower lip as you swallow more and more of his cock. “So pretty”

It comes as a praise, as his hand gently caresses softly your throat as you take him well , making you maintain your head tilted up so his cock can slide perfectly down your throat, little by little, forcing you to keep it wide and open all for him.  

He lets a low groan, his grip hesitates, between becoming more firm or looser. He guides your  movements as you take him deeper. His cheeks are slightly red, his own mouth is open, panting to suppress the moans and grunts; his brows furrowed in pleasure as his eye is transfixed by the sight of you; his cock disappearing into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his mouth. 

“Fuck…” He barely can form the sentence, more like a pant, and he still tries to be quiet, his hips start thrusting in your mouth, keeping your head still for him to use however he pleases. However he wants. Utterly at his mercy.

Once his cock hits the back of your throat, he starts bucking his hips up roughly. He holds your head, a tight and firm grip as he pumps his dick in and out. 

“So hot” He breathes out, “Taking my dick like this” He says, as if the mere thought aroused him more. 

You gurgle on his cock, the head of it hitting your throat, and you try to remain quiet. The gagging sounds are nothing but obscene, and they resonate in the bathroom halls. 

You look up to him, and you let him use you. Even if you can’t breathe, even if your throat will be sore- gods, even if they catch you. Why? Easy.

Aemond seems more relaxed. He seems at ease, as his chest rises and falls as he pants, his face in a contorned expression full of pleasure, as his hand presses against your throat; the other still on your hair. He grips slightly your throat and can even feel the small bulge his cock makes on its way down. 

And you’d give anything to always see him this at ease. He is not relaxed; by nature. He tends to obsess, he tends to think and rethink things. He is hardly a person who goes by hedonistic ways, that enjoys leisure. 

But this? You might always be on your knees, fully open and available for him. And you have the faintest impression that you both know it. 

“Fuck” He pants again, trying to keep his voice no louder than a mer murmur. “You feel me here? I’m all the way down, baby” He says, his hand gripping at the end of your jaw and beginning of your throat. He stops his thrust, and you swallow a bit, squeezing him. He moans, shamelessly. 

You look up to him, and nod softly; as you can do so. He smirks and nods, his lips open as the hand on your hair moves to move some hairs out of your forehead.

“It does… It does help” He says, grinning a bit, out of breath. “I don’t want to… cum, but neither to pull away.”

Your hands move to his thighs, and you look up to him. He loves the sight of you. You begged for him to use you, and that thought drives him feral insane. 

“I’ll fuck you” He says as he pulls out, and he leans to take you by your armpits to keep you on foot. He moves your long skirt all the way up, and his smirk lets you know that he has no plans of stopping. 

“Yeah, yeah” You say without breath.

“I was not asking” he says as he grabs you, and he presses your back against the door, moving his hips closer, so you don’t have another option but to wrap your legs around his waist.

As his hands move to try to move your panties to the side, you look at him, and almost in a moment of clarity you murmur. 

“Against the door is a bad idea, it will creak” You complain, but Aemond roll his eye at annoyance.

“Shut up” he murmurs “You say that I could use you, so you don’t get a say in this. If I want to fuck you like this, you’ll take it”

You blink, and he looks up to face you. He is so enjoying this, his grin is smug, and his eyebrows are slightly frowning as if asking you to defy him.

“Yes, sir” You murmur, slightly playfully, and slightly not playfully.

He hums, and nods. He is pleased with your answer. 

“Soaked wet” he smirks as his fingers trace your panties. “It could be freezing cold, and you’ll still use these damn skirts, hm?”

“Always in hopes you’ll bend me over” You say softly, and he chuckles a bit. He moves to kiss your lips, as his fingers move your panties to the side, and moves his fingers slowly inside. 

His scent is driving you more feral, cigarettes and coffee, he is pested on it. Maybe he had like three coffees to keep himself up, and cigarettes to calm himself down. His perfume is strong, and you knew he liked to have those masculine scents, but the ones who smelt good, and you loved his perfume. 

He pushes his fingers in and out, and you gasp on his mouth, your hips trying to move as he keeps you pressed against the door. It is utterly naughty, you know it.

“You ruined me” he murmurs against your neck, placing kisses there. “When I’ll be answering that question, that I studied so hard for… I’ll be imagining you sucking my dick.”

You whimper slightly, feeling full of him. Being full of him, of his fingers. He fucks you, preparing you for his cock.

“I missed this pretty pussy, this tiny hole of yours.” He says, his other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you still, and helping you not fall. “So wet for me. Are you always wet when you are around me? Wearing your most provocative outfits for me?”

“Yes” You admit as you blush a bit. He reads you like an open book.

“Fool of me to ask that. In my eyes, all your outfits are provocative. All your outfits make me wanna stuff you on my cock, and have you crying of pleasure” He murmurs against your neck, and he decides that a hickey will decorate your neck just fine. 

You whimper, squeezing his fingers as his hot mouth sucks against the skin of your neck, and you squirm slightly on his arms. You drive him insane, and after a while he is satisfied, moving away to inspect his art.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard” He says, breathless as his thumb move over then hickey. 

His promises are never empty, as you feel his cock entering your cunt in a swift motion. It is not your first time taking him, but every time feels better than the last. 

You squirm trying to get in a better position against the door, but he keeps you still in the position he wants. You wrap an arm around his neck for better stability, as his hips start to buck against you, using his grip on your waist to move you up and down on his cock. 

Gods, he is so strong, you know it. He is holding all your weight as he fucks you, each thrust, your back hits the door, making it creak and grate, every thrust hitting it softly. It is so obscene, yet it arouses you more. His strong arms around you, his muscles against your body. It arouses you more than it should, feeling your body against his firm chest, as he fucks you.

His head moves back to your neck, to the other side, barely over your clavicle to make another hickey. He is full hands-on, hitting your ass softly as he uses you, as his cock pounds your cunt over and over. 

“You like when I use you? When I fuck you how I want?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I love it…” You whimper as you feel the little kiss he leaves over your hickey. 

“You love it, I know, baby” He says, his other arm going to your waist, now wrapped up and holding you close against his chest, moving you up and down on his cock.

You mewl at the change of position, you don’t care how much your shoulders accidentally hit the door, you just want for him to…

It hits you like a cold bucket of water.

“We are not using a condom” you murmur, and his thrusts stop a bit, his head looking up to face you. He didn’t realise the fact either.

You two blink at each other, and he waits for you to continue. 

“You should cum inside and we’ll try our luck” you say softly, and his hands grip on your waist tighter.

“Fuck yes…” He breathes out, the thought drives insane, and by how he is fucking you harder, you know it.

You lean softly, your breasts against his neck as you lean your head closer to his ear. “You’ll give that exam while I am leaking your cum” 

Up and down, he moves you, the filthy sound of your ass against his flesh, and he moans, more desperate to cum. Your cunt squeezes a bit, his cock is sliding against your walls in a delicious way, and you are becoming too overwhelmed by the size of him too, how the head manages to grind your sweet spot and how he is grunting against your ear.

His thumb rubs back and forth against your clit. Your jaw drops, as you feel yourself cumming from how much he is doing to you, how he magically knows all secrets to make you melt on his cock. It is almost as magical as you know his secrets too.

You milking his cock has to be one of his favourite newfound discoveries. Maybe his new favourite hobby. Your cunt squeezing his cock, as if making sure his balls go empty, releasing himself in you with such determination, that maybe it’ll get you pregnant. And that thought, to his horny head, does not bother him. 

He holds you still, impaled on his cock as he cums inside you, nuzzling his head on the curve of your neck to drunk himself on your scent. It calms him, to be sure. And he loves it. Familiar, sweet and cosy. As if it was home for him.

You two share lazy kisses, as he has no problem holding you still. You smile, your hands resting against his strong shoulders, and he eventually pulls out and leaves you safely on your foot again. 

“I have another idea” You say smiling to him.

“Gotta give it to you, this idea wasn’t bad. So I am hearing you out” He says as he takes a small towel from his bag, wiping some of the sweat on his neck and you smirk mischievously.

Your hand goes to your panties, taking them out and presenting them to him. They are still soaked wet, and you smile proudly at your idea.

“What?” He asks frowning, but slightly amused.

“Like a lucky charm” 

He looks at you in disbelief before he starts laughing a bit. 

“What?” It is your turn to ask him.

“That is such a… silly idea” 

“Think about it! You can keep it with you when you answer the questions.”

“Darling, that is… Your bad ideas made a comeback, eh?” He teases you, saving the towel on his bag and you take the opportunity to hit his chest again.

“Fine.” You say “Don’t take them”

“I didn’t say I was not gonna take them as my lucky charm. I just said it was silly” he says, taking your panties from your hands, and putting them in his pocket. 

“Pervert” you murmur amused, turning around to unlock the door of the bathroom, which he totally uses to slap your ass, in which you whine “Aemond!”

You two get out as quickly as you can, no one seems at sight. You look at yourself in the mirror and scrunch your face at seeing your state.

“Look at what you-” you start but you both turn to look at the person who just walked in.

As they move to take some of the toilet paper, with a stuffy nose, Aemond moves closer to you, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly as you feel them side-eye you both. No words were spoken, but it was awkward. 

Once they go away, you and Aemond share a look.

“Pff, that was close” You try to break the tension.

“It wasn’t close. You look absolutely fucked.” His hand moves to comb your hair, as some crazy locks were out of place. He? Looked divine and perfect as always. “And the hickeys don’t help your case”

“How am I supposed to go out with those things in my neck? Gods” you say, a hand rubbing the hickey as if they would disappear with that. “And I have to buy the pill-”

“Yeah” he says, pressing his lips together as he tries to suppress a smile. “Well, to be fair it was your idea.”

“I totally forced you to it” You roll your eyes as you two walk out of the bathroom and back to the waiting hall.

“Hm” He says amused. “I am innocent”

You both wait seated, with other of his classmates around. He does not engage, he is obviously tense and anxious, but at the same time, it is not eating him alive as before. 

You feel proud of that. He was an anxious mess, and thanks to you he was well fed and got to release all his worries on you, and your cunt. And for that, you smile. 

You can see Cregan wandering around with Jace, and you don’t care about him anymore. Sure, he was still hot as hell, but with Aemond near, you just lean your head on his shoulder and he rubs his nervous hand on your waist.

“Aemond Targaryen” His name is called out, and you stand along with him, taking his hand along yours. 

Before he goes in, with his other two classmates, you stop him, to kiss him sweetly. Your hands cup his face, and you have to be on your tiptoes to reach his lips properly. 

“They’ll ask you about Foucault” You murmur on his lips, as he looks at you, nervous but dumbfounded. “And you’ll nail this” 

That reassurance makes him smile, leaving a small peck on your lips before going in. Being asked about the Panopticon, being the top of his class and being assistant seem second hand worries as he knows that you’ll be waiting for him once he comes out from the exam. You’ll always be his lucky charm. 

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond modern au #house of the dragon #aemond smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemondtargaryen #aemond targaryen #ewan nation #aemond the kinslayer #hotd #prince aemond #modern aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond

[obae-me]

I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)

Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

--

MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!

Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.

They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.

They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.

They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.

Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.

Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.

What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.

How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.

All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.

Or what if:

Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.

MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.

Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.

MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...

*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*

Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.

MC: Louder? Really?

Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?

MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.

Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?

MC: B-Beel?!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi I see your requests are open (btw love ur blog) could I possibly request Rook, Idia, Azul, and Floyd falling for the “my boyfriend left you can come over” text prank? Pls pls pls 🥺

Azul Ashengrotto:

Not that it’s a great prank to play on anyone, but Azul who is already riddled with trust issues would especially not appreciate it. He doesn’t address it immediately but it’s due to his internal panic over the situation, thinking you wouldn’t be so stupid as to text him something meant for another person and that if you had, you would’ve tried to cover for yourself at least. But there’s always a part of his brain that’s ready for disaster, that activates the second something potentially devastating lined itself up to happen and it completely throws Azul off his normal logical conclusions. You do notice he’s a little more emotional than normal, getting snippy with you and refusing to look at you; it doesn’t get better when you tell him it was just a prank, wondering why you had entirely ruined his day just to get a laugh.

Idia Shroud:

Can one person be double cursed? Because Idia felt double cursed. He stared at the text, trying to pick it apart, analyze different meanings, figure out what you were trying to actually say but was instead autocorrected to this extremely unsettling text. His logic skill wasn’t high enough to figure out this minigame and he almost texted you to ask what you meant but paused, realizing his social skill wasn’t high enough for him to send one out about the topic of you potentially cheating on him. He would normally torture newbies online to get out his feelings but he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, sitting with his knees brought up to his chest and lamenting his inability to recognize that your relationship points had fallen so low. There’s relief that comes with knowing it was just a prank, proven by Ortho doing a quick internet search, but you see the tiniest tinge of red flutter through his hair even as he tells you he’s fine.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd had never whipped around so quick in his entire life, kicking the door to your room in and glaring at you with a knowing look. You’re unable to stop your giggling though some of it might be from nerves, as dealing with a grumpy eel was never the most fun. He whined at you for trying to play a mean trick on him, asking if you wanted to be squeezed that bad; you knew exactly what he was like when he was jealous and you couldn’t help but want to see a little more. There weren’t many people stupid enough to flirt with you when they knew who you were dating so you had to make your own fun, but having Floyd wrapped around you and refusing to leave your side until this potential ‘other person’ showed up was making you think twice about any future pranks.

Rook Hunt:

Rook doesn’t fall for it. He knows you’re just teasing in your normal playful way, trying to pull a reaction out of him which made him chuckle. You kept his daily life interesting so he couldn’t take your little prank personally, but he knew you inside and out. He would hold your face with his hand, delicately caressing your skin as he talked about your scent, one that he had memorized as he held you close each night. The only man he had ever smelled on you was himself, and since he didn’t pick up on anything unfamiliar, he concluded right in front of you that you couldn’t possibly be cheating on him. He pressed his nose into your neck, whispering against your skin that if you didn’t want him to go you just had to say as such.  

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Floyd Leech #Rook Hunt #Azul Ashengrotto #Idia Shroud #Floyd Leech x Reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #idia shroud x reader

[mandarinmoons]

Could I please request for Spencer where reader is in the bau and her and Spencer aren’t exactly friends but they keep it professional but sassy and one night after a case he comforts her because he secretly likes her ? Tysm ❤️

There’s never a dull moment when working at the BAU, whether it be a psychopathic killer or an evening with the team where everyone could let loose with a glass of wine.

You liked to have your fun, but you were determined to keep things professional with everyone. However, one of your coworkers managed to get closer to you than the others and you had your, dare you say, “unprofessional” moments with him.

Both of your bodies allerted you around the same time when coffee was needed and that was when the majority of the quips between you two took place.

“Half a bottle of sugar again, Reid?”

You watched Spencer pour in the needed amount of sugar into his coffee and noticed a small grin form on his lips.

“I think you should know by now how I take it.”

“Yeah, all sugar and no caffeine at this point.”

The banter between you two kept on going as time went on and you felt your poker face disappear every time he walked into the room, the way you wanted to be perceived by your peers was not going to last, especially after one night.

The team left the office one by one as the workday ended. You were still sitting at your desk, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. The case that was just finished didn’t go as well as planned and it left everyone’s mood sour, especially yours. You were the one who tried to talk the unsub into letting the hostage go, you were so close and yet you failed. You were questioning your abilities and if you should even continue, the guilt was too much to bear.

As you leaned your head back and closed your eyes to rest you heard someone walk up behind you.

“Are you okay?”

You sat up and looked behind you, seeing Spencer look down on you with sad eyes.

“I um, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Spencer sat down on the chair next to you and eyed you up and down, your back slouched against the chair and your head hanging down, biting your lip and eyes still staring down at the papers in front of you.

“You did your best out there.”

You looked up at Spencer and saw his eyes staring back at you, the brown of his eyes having a comforting quality to them.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Spencer looked down at his hands and gulped before continuing, “I know how you feel. There have been times where I think I could’ve done better, acted better, because maybe then they’d still be alive.”

You nodded and looked down at the picked skin along your nails, a bad habit that came out during stressful times.

“But… you can’t let that stop you from doing what you do. Think of all the lives you’re going to save in the future, they need you, we need you.”

It was as if Spencer was reading your mind and knew all of the thoughts going on in your head. You knew that you couldn’t let yourself get too out of hand with your feelings because more people needed you, but you just couldn’t shake it. Hearing it coming from Spencer though felt reassuring, you had no idea how his words managed to be so comforting for you, but you were grateful.

“I need you guys too,” seeing a hint of a smile play on your lips made Spencer break out in a smile as well.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, “Do you, uh, do you want me to help you finish your paperwork?”

“That would be nice of you,” you scooted to the side with your chair and passed a few papers over to Spencer and handed him a pen. Your fingers touched slightly as he took the pen from your grasp and from the corner of your eye you saw his cheeks form a reddish hue.

The rest of the hour was spent more on joking than actually working. Eventually the paperwork was finished and Spencer being the gentleman that he is, helped you into your coat and held the door for you when walking out of the bullpen.

When reaching the parking lot and walking towards your cars, you stopped and faced Spencer.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome but it’s not needed.”

“Yes it is. I would’ve driven myself insane if you hadn’t stepped in and calmed me down.”

Spencer chuckled and looked down, your words were clearly getting to him and making him nervous.

A moment later you took a step closer and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Spencer froze at first but pulled you in closer and rested his chin on your head, you couldn’t remember the last time a hug felt so comforting.

The two of you stayed in the position for a good minute until you pulled back and looked into Spencer’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of-”

“It’s okay, I liked it.”

You two were left staring at each other in the parking lot for what felt like an eternity until someone walked past the both of you and heard them unlocking their car.

“I should go now, thanks again Spence.”

Spencer nodded and walked over to his car, thinking of the nickname you had just called him, meanwhile you melted into the driver's seat of your car, taking in the moment you just had with your coworker. Was he just a coworker? No, he was your friend, and to Spencer you were something more than a friend.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs

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#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid x gn! reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 16

Summary: Class has ended and you’re ready to eat for lunch, but everyone has stopped at the door. Turns out Malleus was there, and he craves affection.

(Wanted to write about kisses. And then Malleus popped into my head. So here you go!)

“Um, hey, Prefect?” Oh, well would you look at that, it’s Deuce speaking up this time, “Can I… copy your notes again? Please?”

“Yeah, I really couldn’t pay attention,” Grim tapped his paws on your desk, like that’ll somehow endear you to him, “besides, the board is so far away.”

You and your group are two seats away from said board.

“Yeah, come on,” Ace laid an arm across the back of your seat, “do us a solid, yeah? You know you want to. Can’t resist the call of enlightening our tiny little brains.”

“What are you gonna give me?” You closed your notebook just so Ace and Deuce don’t have a chance to look at your notes. “I’ve been saving your asses for the past two weeks. You gotta give me something.”

“Hehe, that’s my minion! If you want a fast pass, you need to give us reparations in tuna!” He cheered, once more using ‘we’ as soon as he thinks he’s getting something.

“You have to pay too, Cat.”

There will be no ‘we’ this time.

“What?! Why?!”

You tried tutoring them in the past but having Ace, Deuce and Grim all in the same room for more than ten minutes always leads to either an argument breaking out, a bunch of whining, or just general chaos because one or more people tried to slip out of trouble.

Yeah, yeah it’s partially your fault for losing patience and just giving up on them, but you’d think they’d at least pay attention long enough to take notes.

They’re right there! On the board!

They have no excuse and they have to at least pay you back for this emotional trouble.

Was this petty? Yes, very. You don’t care right now. You want a treat. Or money. Or both!

“Huh, ah, well,” Deuce got sheepish and reached into his pockets, “I have gum.”

“No.” He has disappointed you. An unworthy treat for your notes.

“How about I only eat three-fourths of your food this time?” Suggested Grim.

“My treat is me giving you more of my food?” And you don’t even give it, he just steals it!

Grim hissed. He was probably hoping you didn’t know fractions. But, good on him for finally learning. Shame his first thought was to try and trick you with it.

“Okay guys, you all know that’s not what the Prefect really wants,” Ace leans in, acting chummy, “how about this?”

You were given one thaumark.

“…”

“Alright listen, I need the rest to buy other things, okay?”

You got up after calmly putting your notes away. “I’m going to get lunch.”

“No wait come back!”

But, as much as you wanted to walk out and sit at the regular table while your friends slowly fill in the seats, the exit to the classroom was blocked by a cluster of murmuring and rather nervous students.

“What’s he doing here?” You heard one whisper.

“Uh, did we do something? Were we too loud?”

“I’m really hungry but…”

You are not in the mood. You tried to excuse yourself as you bumped into shoulders but you had to settle for grumbled apologies instead as you shoved yourself through.

Finally, you popped out of the other side, a little more heated and more irritable.

“There you are, Child of Man,” so goes the voice of Malleus, who stood to the side of the door, waiting. The cause of this blockage, students frozen with only his green-eyed stare. “I was kept waiting quite a while. How bold of you to do this, after the slight you made this morning.”

What?

“Wha?” Your annoyance was momentarily replaced by bafflement, but that quickly went away when your brain caught up to his words. You grumbled, “Oh, come on…”

Yeah, you’re probably not even gonna eat at the cafeteria. You’re just gonna get your food and go hide away somewhere until you cooled down.

Malleus walked forward, the surge of students all taking a collective step back as though his very air could potentially kill them.

“Well? Don’t you remember?” He crossed his arms and you were ready for that high-brow glare that comes with all people of royalty, but instead, you found an exaggerated and childish pout. “You forgot to give me my morning greeting. I felt off the entire morning, unable to focus, because I didn’t have the memory of you kissing my brow fresh in my mind.”

A hush fell over the classroom.

And then a, “Huh?!” shot out of Ace’s mouth.

You snorted, then gave out a hearty chuckle. Once you calmed down, you waved Malleus over.

“Alright, alright, get over here. Let me correct that.”

A laugh rumbled low in his throat as he tilted his head into your hand. Playfully, you lightly pinched his ear, just because his pointy ears always caught your attention. He twitched, breath hitching just the slightest bit, and you couldn’t resist the urge anymore and kissed above his brow.

Malleus’s lashes fluttered open and the sigh that escaped him reminded you of a pure-hearted maiden with a fast-beating heart. And yet, there’s nothing delicate about the way he stood. If anything, the affection flowing through him made his pride more apparent. He practically glowed with that royal grace he was taught to have.

You couldn’t help yourself. You gave him an extra kiss on the corner of his lips. Malleus nearly hissed in a breath as he clamped his hand over your own, his body leaning in closer towards yours, as though he wanted to meld with you.

But, with a chuckle, you pulled away and he had no choice but to let go. Malleus was back to pouting, though this time, cheeks flushed and hair slightly messier than usual. The air around you was slightly charged with wayward magic, causing the hair on your body to stand on end. And his eyes…

Well, whoops.

“Good morning. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Better get out of here before Malleus jumps you right in this hallway.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #malleus #malleus draconia #reader insert

[hi18364]

In the blink of an eye

People often use the saying "your life can change in the blink of an eye" a lot. Six weeks ago, you understood what the saying meant. One day, you were taking a silly DNA test for fun with your friends. The next thing you know, you find out your whole life is a lie when you get the DNA results back. It turns out the people who said they were your birth parents are not, in fact, your biological parents; they kidnapped you.

For six weeks, you've kept a huge secret. It's eating at you. Leah Williamson is your sister. For six weeks, you've been going to training, playing, eating, and talking with your biological sister, and she has no clue about your secret. How were you supposed to tell someone they're your sister when you were kidnapped at six months old? You can't even look at her. People have started to notice that you can't look at her and that you are avoiding her as much as possible.

You have been staying with Beth and Viv for about five weeks now. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what you found out. Beth and Viv don't know the real reason; they just think that your mum and dad went back to live in Spain. Your head is a mess, questioning who you are, why did they take you. Would your life have been different? Would you have gotten into football? All these "what ifs," you would never get the answers to any of them.

It hurts, knowing that you would never get the answers to why they took you and stuff like that. Hearing a knock at your door, you get up. Standing in front of you was the one person that you didn't want to see. “Hey, you ready to go? Beth and Viv are waiting in the living room.” Nodding your head, you walk past her and into the living room where you see a bunch of footballers walking over to where all the shoes are kept. You pick a random pair.

After you put them on, you walk over to where Beth and Viv are, giving a weak smile to Viv. She looks at you; it's clear you had been crying at some point. “You ok, kid?” Giving her another weak smile, you nod your head. Hearing Kim shout, “We will all meet at the restaurant, everyone drive safe,” as all the footballers pile out of the tiny apartment. You, Viv, Beth, Leah, and Jordan are the last to pile out. Walking to the car, Beth and Leah were whispering to each other about something.

Pulling out your phone, you take a picture of your outfit, posting it on your Insta and Snap stories. You stop at the car, waiting for Viv to open it. When she does, you get in; Jordan was in the middle, and Leah was on the other side. The car ride was quiet for the most part. Getting out of the car, you walk into the restaurant. Beth, Viv, Leah, and Jordan weren't that far behind. Alessia and Ella come over; you know them from England.

You got your first call-up two months before the Euros, and I guess Sarina liked the way you play, as you got the call to join the team for the Euros. It's now November 1st; life has been crazy since you won. Walking to the table, you sit more away from your Arsenal teammates. The night went well; everyone was happy and talking to each other. It's now the next day; you had a game today, so you need to get there at 5 am because it's a 12:30 kick-off.

Getting up, you slip on a hoodie and joggers, trying to shake off the weight of your secret. As you head out the door, you walk to the kitchen where some of the Arsenal girls are; some stayed over last night. Beth passes you a coffee. "Hey," she says, her voice soft and it has a hint of tiredness in it. "Are you okay? You seemed a bit off last night." You force a smile, hoping to deflect her worry. "Yeah, just tired, I guess. Big day ahead."

Giving another forced smile, you walk over to the couch and flop down next to Jen. The news was on the TV; nothing interesting, so you just go on TikTok and watch some fan edits showing Jen. A few here and there were of to the training center; it's cold as it's like -4. As you arrive at the training center, each step you take is heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of your secret. Your mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Jen's concerned gaze follows you, her eyes silently pleading for you to confide in her, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. Not yet. Inside the training center, the familiar sights and sounds offer little comfort. Your mind keeps drifting back to Leah. How do you face her knowing what you know? The guilt threatens to consume you whole. As the bus parks up, you catch Leah's eyes. For a moment, it feels like she can see right through you, like she knows the truth.

You quickly look away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze. She was just a teammate six weeks ago, and now she is your sister. Well, I guess she always has been, but you didn't know. Getting on the coach, you sit next to Katie, Catlin, Steph; you don't really talk to them. The game was a blur; yous won 2-0. After taking photos with fans, you walk down the tunnel where Leah, Beth, Katie, and Georgia Stanway are.

Leah walks over to you; as you try to walk away, she gently grabs your arm. “Hey, can we talk?” You just shake your head, and you try to pull your hand away. “What have I done to you to make you hate me?” You shake your head. “I don't hate you, Leah.” She still has your hand in her grasp. “You can't look at me; you don't talk to me, and you won't tell anyone what's going on.”

You do the only thing you can think to get her to let go of you. The connection of your hand connects to her face echoes through the tunnel. The girls come over and quickly separate you. Beth comes up to you and pulls you around the corner. “What's going on? Leah just wanted to know if she did something; why did you slap her?” Looking at Beth, the concern for you and a bit of anger for slapping Leah, you couldn't bear it any longer.

You let all the emotions out, letting a sob rip through you. Beth steps forward and gently pulls you into a hug so your head is resting on her shoulder. “She-I'm-” She tries to calm you down. “She's my sister.” Letting another sob rip through your body, you feel Beth tense under you. “What are you talking about?” Wiping your head around, you see Leah standing there.

#women’s football #women’s soccer #women’s super league #woso community #woso imagine #wsl #barclays wsl #georgia stanway #beth mead #viv miedema #vivianne miedema #leah williamson #katie mccabe #caitlin foord #steph catley #kim little #woso soccer #arsenal

[craisinsensation1029]

Tri Harder

Chapter 3 ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) -- final

Also on AO3 :)

Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo

After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you, that's it.

Ch 1 | Ch 2

fem reader, MMF threesome, vaginal sex, oral sex (male + female receiving), Eiffel Tower, soft Dom geto, stsg explore each other's bodies, other threesome shit listen idk

8k

thank u to my very wonderful friend Mads for the art for this chapter!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) feel free to check it out on the endnotes !! °ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

MDNI

The reason for even coming to the club was long forgotten the moment those words left your mouth. The only thing on your mind was getting your fucking bag and getting out of here. “How soon did you guys want to leave?” you asked.

“Whenever you’re ready to,” Gojo answered quickly. Geto stared at him pointedly, but all he offered was a shrug. It’s not like they came here for any other reason.

“You came with Shoko and the others, right?” Geto asked innocently. “If you need to talk to them or anything before we go, that’s fine.”

“I just need to get my bag and tell them I’m heading out,” you answered with a sly smile. “Should only take a few minutes. We were sitting near the front.”

Gojo was more than happy that he didn’t have to spend any more time acting like there was anything else he wanted to do here. He unhooked his arms from around you, giving you a once over to make sure your outfit was properly in place. He adjusted your shirt quickly before giving a quick nod. “Let’s go get that bag then.”

Gojo took a hold of your hand and began to easily maneuver back through the sea of people on the dancefloor with Geto following closely behind. He had to admit, he probably shoved some people harder than he needed to, but this wasn’t a situation that called for manners. Getting you out of the club was an urgent matter.

When the three of you arrived back at the couches where you were when you arrived, Shoko and Utahime were back. Haibara and Nanami were now nowhere to be seen, but you could only assume Haibara managed to drag Nanami onto the dancefloor. As much of a sight Nanami dancing would have been, it just wasn’t a priority right now. You made a mental note to get him drunk and dance some other time.

Shoko called out your name drunkenly. “ Heeeeey. ” A lazy smile crossed her lips. “Where did ya go?”

Utahime’s head, which was buried in Shoko’s neck, piped up, an equally drunk voice addressing you. “Wait.” She squinted. “Why are they here?”

“I ran into them on the dancefloor,” you answered. “But are you guys all good? I think I’m going to leave. They said I can share an Uber with them.”

Shoko gave a thumbs up and Utahime’s head lolled back into her neck. “I’ll kill them if something happens to you,” she murmured, voice trailing off with each word that she spoke.

You still had no idea what the issue between them was. You weren’t even sure that you wanted to know, but it definitely wasn’t a concern right now. “I’ll text you when I’m home, don’t worry.” Her eyes were already closed before she could give you a response.

Geto looked over at Gojo who flashed him a smile. Gojo fished his phone out of his pocket, ordering an Uber. 

You grabbed your bag, and Gojo took a hold of your hand once more while Geto held the other to make your way to the exit. It didn’t take long for the Uber to arrive, a black car pulling up in front of the club.

Gojo released your hand to open the door. He slid in first, letting you squeeze in the middle as Geto sat on your other side. Gojo was grateful they didn’t live far from the club, because he was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself for the car ride. He snuck in a few touches, letting his hand grip your thigh, but his leg bounced impatiently the whole time. Geto knew he could be patient, but that didn’t mean waiting made him happy. His hand grazed your other thigh, giving the supple flesh squeezes for the duration of the ride.

Gojo all but opened the door and stopped the motion of the car with his foot once it pulled up to their apartment. He offered you his hand to help you out, and Geto got out on the other side. 

“Well, welcome to our humble abode,” Geto said as he pushed the key in the lock, opening the door so you Gojo could walk inside.

Humble was putting it nicely. It was an open concept layout that was tastefully furnished with black and gray furniture. The appliances in the kitchen were all stainless steel, and it was hard to ignore the large TV huge stereo they had. “Nice place,” you complimented.

“Thanks, angel,” Geto said, putting a hand on the small of your back. “Did you want anything? Water, snacks?” he offered.

“I’m okay, thank you though,” you replied. He nodded.

“Let’s go to my room,” Gojo said.

You nodded and walked into Gojo’s room, the gray room sized rug on the floor soft beneath your feet. You took a curious look around, eyes greeted with various posters on the walls and shelves with some books and figures on them. Pictures of the pair along with some of their other friends hung in frames on the wall.

A huge bed with black and white striped sheets sat in the center of the room, it had to have been a king sized bed. Maybe it was even a California king sized one. A soft pink hue from LED lights illuminated the perimeter of the bed, complementing the soft blue ones that lined the ones around the room. 

Geto sauntered over to a corner of the room, connecting his phone to a large bluetooth speaker. A Snoh Alegra song started to play softly from the speaker as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. After queuing a few more songs, Geto walked over and sat on your left while Gojo who was putting his shades atop his dresser came over to sit on your right.

You looked between the two, appreciative of the attractive company. “So are you two like… together?” you questioned. At Shoko’s party, it didn’t seem like something to inquire about, but the display at the club made you think otherwise. Admittedly, it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

Geto shrugged. “We don’t really like to put a label on anything,” he offered. “Just makes things more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Yeah,” Gojo added. You turned to face him as he spoke again. “We just like to have fun with other people who like having fun.” Gojo shrugged in the same manner Geto did. “You are having fun, right?”

You placed a hand on each of their knees, looking at both of them before you answered. “I’m having tons of fun, I promise. But I know we’re going to have tons more.” You let your teeth sink into your bottom lip briefly before you spoke again. “I’ll be honest, I’m glad I didn’t have to choose just one of you. It would have been too hard.”

Geto’s hand was guiding your chin to look at him, that gentle smile of his playing on his lips. “No need to choose when you can have us both, angel,” he reassured. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip as his voice dropped an octave. “As long as this is what you want to do, we could always take you home if you’ve changed your mind.”

You squeezed Gojo’s knee to give him the same assurance you provided Geto with as you nodded at him. “I’m sure.”

“Perfect,” Geto murmured. Excitement was coursing through his veins at your response, and although you couldn’t see, Gojo couldn’t help the smile that was on his face. He had to admit, Geto was never wrong. Gojo thought Utahime would be a bigger issue, but if anything he was thankful that she brought you to Shoko’s party, and you didn’t let her bias impact who you interacted with. Gojo made a mental note to tease Utahime about how nice you are next time he saw her.

You eagerly leaned toward Geto and pressed your lips to his, moving the hand you had on his knee to cup the side of his face. It wasn’t long before your hand was moving across his smooth skin to embed your fingers in his hair, searching for the band that held the top knot in place. Your lips moved more insistently against his as you relieved the band from its duty, letting his hair fall freely on his shoulders.

He moaned against your lips as his free hand moved to cup your breast, gently squeezing as your tongue traced over his bottom lip. He parted his lips, granting your tongue access to his mouth. Geto could already feel his cock swelling again, although it was hard to pinpoint exactly at what point since he laid eyes on you tonight it stopped throbbing. He was starting to wonder if something about your presence triggered an automatic hard on.

Your grip on Gojo’s knee tightened as your tongue swiped against Geto’s, tasting the remnants of alcohol and your own taste on each other’s mouth. Gojo took the opportunity to massage your other breast and let his lips start to suck on the base of your neck. He slowly made his way up, nipping at the skin with his teeth to make his mark on your skin, his moaning vibrating against your throat as he did.

He sucked your earlobe into his mouth, toying with it between his teeth as you moaned into Geto’s mouth. You shifted the hand that was on Gojo’s knee, hiking it up his thigh to rub him over his jeans. You let your hand explore his length over the fabric, feeling him rapidly hardening beneath your touch. Gojo let out a soft groan, eagerly bucking his hips into your hand.

“Mm,” you moaned softly against Geto’s lips, hearing Gojo’s throaty moan in your ear. You thought you were swimming in desire before, but now you were practically drowning in it, lost at sea with an aching pulse between your thighs. The grip you had on Geto’s hair tightened, fingers desperately grabbing at his scalp as your tongue continued to explore the inside of his mouth. 

Geto would never admit it, especially not to Gojo, but he loved his hair being tugged on. He would always put up a fuss whenever he did so in any other situation to just annoy him, but in intimate moments like, it only riled Geto up more. He absolutely loved the feeling of hungry hands clawing at his scalp, knowing that subtle pain on his end was the ultimate bliss for the other person. The sharpness of the pull made him groan into your mouth as he began to pinch your nipple through your top.

Gojo was now fully hard in his jeans, desperately shifting his hips so your hand stroked him fully. “ Fuck, ” he murmured, looking at the angry splotches he sucked into your neck. His fingers ghosted over the spot, watching your body wince as he did. He was sure the other side of your neck was marked by Geto’s touch, and he loved knowing everyone would be able to see the claim that they made on you. 

After sinking your teeth softly into Geto’s plush bottom lip, you slowly pulled away. Your eyes stayed locked on his for a brief moment as your hand slowly released the grip from his hair. His gaze was smoldering as your hand moved to his crotch, seeing his print straining against his jeans. Turning your head, you gave Gojo a smirk looking at your hand rubbing his length through his jeans. Shifting the hand to cup the side of his face, you pressed your lips against his.

Gojo’s large hand fiercely gripped one of your thighs as the other kept squeezing your breasts. He plunged his tongue into your mouth, hungry to swap spit with you again. He was shameless, moaning into your mouth as he aimed for his tongue to become familiar with every square inch of your mouth. He could still taste the liquor and more importantly, he could taste both you and Geto. He could see the mix of flavors soon becoming a favorite of his. 

Geto smoothly maneuvered the strap of your top off shoulder, letting your breast fall free. “Satoru, take a moment and help our angel get her top off.”

Not wanting to break the kiss, Gojo murmured a response to Geto against your lips. His hand moved from your breast to the strap of your top, hastily pushing it down. 

You whined into his mouth feeling both of your stiff nipples exposed to the air. The feeling was quickly neutralized when Geto’s hand cupped your breast, hands softly massaging the mound while his mouth hovered over the marks on your neck that he left earlier. He pressed soft kisses to the spot, satisfied with his work, but he knew there was more he could do. His mouth trailed further down, letting his tongue flick against the divot of your collarbone.

Gojo’s mouth was relentless as he continued to ravage your mouth, letting his tongue trace the shape of your cupid’s bow and your bottom lip before diving back in. The hand you had on Geto’s crotch tightened, gripping at his length. As badly as you wanted to stroke him, it was hard to do anything else with Gojo’s fierce mouth on you. In a small moment of reprieve, your tongue found its way inside of Gojo’s mouth, Geto’s familiar taste still lingering. You moaned against his mouth. Your underwear was already soaked from the earlier orgasms, but you could feel a new wetness saturating them again.    

Geto’s cock throbbed when you gripped him, throbbed again when he heard you moaning into Gojo’s mouth. He sucked at the skin of your collarbone, insistent on putting his mark on more parts of your body. His fingers traced over the new marks when he pulled off, and his mouth continued its mission of claiming you. Nipping and sucking at the skin at the tops of breasts, more red marks formed much to his pleasure. “Mhm, so pretty, angel,” he admired.

You were clueless what Geto was praising you for, but you didn’t care. Gojo broke the kiss, chest heaving and cock throbbing as he did. His eyes gazed over to where Geto’s were locked on your collarbone and chest. “So fucking pretty,” he agreed. His mouth was eager to mar the spots on the opposite side, but he realized he hadn’t seen your bare breasts yet. They looked as perfect as they felt, your nipples looking like delectable buds he needed in his mouth. 

Gojo’s swollen lips greedily sucked on the skin of your collarbone, leaving his mark before trailing down to suck on the skin on the top of your breasts. Once his claim was there, his hand grabbed your breast, squeezing the mound between his thumb and fingers. His tongue licked a stripe from the bottom of your breast, over your nipple and areola and up to your collarbone. His tongue traveled the path again before he harshly sucked your nipple into his mouth. 

Gojo didn’t care, he was aiming to have as much as your breast in his mouth as possible. He looked like Kirby inhaling something, but he couldn't help but moan feeling the warm skin in his mouth. He pulled off, letting his tongue quickly circle around your nipple before sucking it back into his mouth. Geto’s mouth began working on your other nipple, opting to let his tongue lap at your areola before gently sucking the peak into his mouth. 

A series of whimpers and pants left your mouth as both of their mouths worked on your breasts. The feeling was stupefying, your mind hazy with only thoughts of more pleasure ahead. The dichotomy of their touch already had you seeing stars. You pressed your thighs together as you willed your hands to rub both of them over their jeans. They both felt… big. Anticipation raced through your veins as you threw your head back. “Feels sogood,” you managed to choke out.

They each took their time on your chest, alternating their movements so their lips occasionally kissed the skin of your neck. At times both of their mouths would be on your neck, continuously licking and sucking at the skin they already made swollen. Other times, one of their mouths would be on your neck while the other still had their mouth latched onto your nipple, causing your body to tingle at the multitude of sensations. Sounds you weren’t even aware you could make were leaving your lips left and right as you did your best to keep your hand running over both of their clothed erections.

Gojo’s cock was about to punch a hole through his jeans. Mouth still on your breast, he used his other hand to undo the button on his jeans, coaxing your hand to feel him over his briefs. You gripped him, letting a finger circle the head where the precome was already leaking, and fuck did your hand on him feel good. 

Geto slowly parted from your nipple, leaving a trail of spit in its wake. The sight of Gojo’s marks on you, his mouth on you and your hand in his pants made him bite his lip. He slotted a hand between your tightly pressed together thighs, pleased they opened without protest. He only had to press one finger against the crotch of your underwear to know you were absolutely soaked. “Aw, looks like you could use some help here, angel.” You whined at his touch. “How about we help you out?”

Geto’s voice would have you agreeing to commit every crime imaginable. You nodded, and he sank down to his knees, tugging your legs further toward the edge of the bed so your heat was aligned with his mouth. The sudden movement made you gasp. Gojo whined like a baby, Geto’s maneuvering of your body causing your nipple to fall out of his mouth. Geto rolled his eyes at friend. “Come on, Satoru. Don’t you want to fuck our angel with your tongue too?”

Gojo was already salivating when he tasted you on his fingers at the club. His cock throbbed thinking about running his tongue through your folds. He stood, pushing his jeans and briefs down to give his cock some relief from its constraints. He fisted his cock, using his thumb to smear the precome that formed on the head, sighing at the relief. Before he sank to his knees with Geto, you couldn’t help but look at the veins on his hand as he fisted himself, the way he needed long strokes to soothe the ache of his length. Geto’s eyes were on the display as well, knowing just how needy Gojo could be.

You looked down at both men between your legs, clenching at the sight of them. They each hooked an arm under your legs as they began to press kisses to your inner thighs. You were starting to become familiar with the distinct ways their lips caressed your body. Geto usually took his time, letting his mouth memorize the feel of your skin under his lips. The desperate urges of his body were usually masked by his slow movements, but there was no denying his desire. Gojo was always more insistent, his mouth greedy and eager to please your body. Your body loved both variations of their touch, and craved more.

Geto gently sucked the skin of your inner thigh into his mouth before planting a soft kiss there. On the opposite thigh, Gojo nipped at the skin and sucked portions harshly into his mouth until it was swollen. Only then did he press a softer kiss to the spot. The two worked their way up your thigh until they were at your center, arousal palpable.

Gojo pressed his nose against your crotch, taking a deep sniff. “Fuck, angel, you even smell good,” he groaned. He flattened his tongue against the crotch of your underwear, licking a stripe against the fabric. “Can even taste you through your panties.” He turned his attention to Geto. “No wonder she needed some help, she’s fucking soaked.”

You squirmed feeling the heat of his tongue through the fabric. “We’re going to take good care of her, aren’t we?” Geto tugged at the end of your skirt, pulling it off. He then hooked a finger into the lacy waistband of your underwear, easily tearing them and tossing them aside. His cock throbbed looking at your wet, glistening folds before him. “So perfect, angel,” he murmured. He ran two fingers though your slick, parting his fingers afterwards to see a string of your arousal on his fingers. “So, so perfect.”

You clenched around nothing at his praise as your chest heaved. Geto flattened his tongue against you, letting his tongue drag slowly through your folds. He repeated the action, ensuring every single one of his taste buds were coated in your essence. His tongue was wet and warm against you, and you instantly let out a moan. Geto’s grip on your thigh tightened as his tongue continued to lap at you. 

Gojo pushed your leg open further, darting his tongue out so the hard point began to circle your clit. You cried out, arching your back. His tongue circled and flicked against your clit before he closed his mouth around the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Oh, fuck, ” you moaned out, wrapping your hands around the base of their necks to bring both of them closer to you.

Geto and Gojo continued to ravish you with their tongues. Geto ran his tongue through your folds in fast and slow motions while Gojo sucked your clit harshly into his mouth. They would switch, with Gojo running his tongue in fast strokes over your center. He urged his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, dipping it into your entrance. The hard point of Geto’s tongue circled your clit before he sucked it gently into his mouth, keeping it latched onto the nerve.

Your body continued to writhe and a string of continuous moans left your mouth as their warm tongues continued their assault against your center. Neither of them could get enough. Gojo thought tasting you on his fingers was good, but it was nothing compared to having his tongue shoved inside of you. He wanted to savor the taste on his tongue forever. “So fucking good, angel,” he moaned against your heat. He felt like a man starved, and wanted nothing more than to find a way to bottle your taste and save it for later, unsure of when he would get his next fix. He couldn’t help but start to fist his cock again as he continued fucking you with his tongue.

Geto shared similar sentiments. He loved the way you tasted, the way your body reacted so willingly to their touches. Every moan and every buck of your hips made his cock throb. When Gojo sucked your clit into his mouth, Geto pushed two fingers inside of you. They slipped in without resistance, and he set a steady pace as he thrusted them in and out of you. “Going to feel so good when we have our cocks buried inside you,” he murmured, watching the way you clenched around his fingers. “So fucking tight, bet this pussy has never even been fucked right.”

You whimpered at both of their words, clenching around Geto’s fingers as they scissored inside you, Gojo’s mouth still mercilessly latched on to your clit. Tears were springing from the corners of your eyes and it was hard to form a coherent thought as the coil in your belly was rapidly unwinding. Skillfully as ever, Geto curled his fingers inside of you, brushing against the spot that made your hips jerk violently. Both men held your legs down securely. “You can take it,” Geto declared, curling his fingers against your g-spot again. “Come on, let us have it.”

Gojo released your leg from his grip and used the now free hand to nudge his index finger at your entrance. Your moans didn’t stop as the finger slowly eased inside, joining the two Geto already had working against your g-spot. He shallowly thrusted his finger, moaning against your clit at the feeling of your walls clenching around his finger.

White spots began to cloud your vision, your cunt spasming around their fingers as you drenched their fingers. You felt absolutely spent as you ceased gripping their necks, falling back on your elbows to catch your breath. Geto and Gojo slipped their fingers out of you, watching your come ooze out of you. Gojo took the opportunity to savor the taste, running his tongue over your slit to get every drop into his mouth. You let out a soft whimper, still incredibly sensitive. “Told you I would show you what my tongue is capable of,” he teased.

“I know now,” you laughed breathlessly.

Geto looked at Gojo who was still stroking his cock. He gently shook his head, putting his hand on Gojo’s chin to bring him closer. “You’re always so impatient,” he spoke against his lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed hold of Gojo’s cock, running his thumb gently over the slit. “Always making a mess.”

Gojo couldn’t help the soft whine he let out before crushing his lips to Geto’s, thrusting his cock into his hand. Every kiss they shared was always rough, frantic. As if they were running out of time and the union of their lips was the only thing that would spare them. Gojo fisted Geto’s tresses as he moved his tongue into his mouth, exchanging the taste of your come with him.

Again, you were hooked on their sight of the pair locking lips, moving against each other with strong familiarity. Despite your swollen, puffy clit, you gingerly reached a hand between your legs to rub at the nub. You did your best to stifle your moan, but a soft whimper escaped. You didn’t know if there was a sense of shame to be had from watching the two of them, but you couldn’t care less. Gojo shamelessly continued to ravage Geto’s mouth. He was sucking on his tongue and biting on his bottom lip while rutting his cock into his hand. 

In Geto’s peripheral vision, he could see you rubbing your clit. Even though Gojo had just licked you clean, new wetness was already beginning to coat your slit. Your pussy was just so pretty, he wished he could tattoo the sight on the inside of his eyelids. Geto pulled his mouth away from Gojo’s slightly. Gojo let out a soft whine at the loss of contact, opting to start sucking on the skin of his neck. At the sight, you continued to rub your clit faster, thrusting your hips into the air. “Can’t believe I’m dealing with two greedy brats,” Geto chuckled softly, giving Gojo’s cock a firm stroke.

Gojo knew he was greedy, he would never deny himself of something he wanted. After sucking a mark into Geto’s neck, he looked over to see you with two fingers on your clit now, breathy pants leaving you mouth as your hips canted. “Fuck angel, I could watch you play with that pretty pussy all day.”

“Why do that when we can do a lot more than watch?” Geto rose, returning to where he was sitting next to you on the bed. A small smirk ghosted over his lips as he hoisted you up, grabbing the hand you were using to play with your clit. You whined at the loss of contact, constantly clenching your thighs together to relieve the ache that was already forming. He leaned in close, his thumb stroking your chin. “So tell me, angel.” You would tell him anything he wanted to hear. “Who do you want to get fucked by first?” 

Your mouth opened and closed at the question. Your eyes ping ponged between the two men. Gojo was still kneeling on the floor, face flushed, lips swollen with cock in hand. Despite his apparent composure, red marks were starting to form on Geto’s neck and his eyes were swimming with desire. His cock was throbbing relentlessly, dying to be free from its constraints. An answer seemed impossible to come to. 

“You don’t even care, do you?” he laughed. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you shook your head no. Knowing you would have them both tonight was more than enough, the order was completely irrelevant. “That’s alright, we’ll take good care of you,” he assured. “Are you feeling okay?”

Your chest and neck were red and sore as fuck, your lips were swollen and your legs hadn’t stopped trembling, but a smile crossed your face as you nodded. “I feel great.”

Geto pressed his lips gently to yours. “Good,” he said softly. “How about you get on all fours?”

The mattress dipped as you got on your hands and knees, crawling to the middle of the bed. You wiggled your ass playfully as you turned your head to look back at them, a sly smile playing on your lips. “Ready whenever you are.”

Gojo rose from his position on the floor, looking at the way your folds glistened. He let out a low whistle, letting a finger run over your slit. “Fuck,” he murmured. His cock throbbed at the sight.

Geto ran a finger over your slit as well, sucking the digit into his mouth afterward. “Why don’t you go first, Satoru?” he suggested, looking down at Gojo’s throbbing cock. “She’s all ready.”

Gojo wouldn’t have fought with Geto if he wanted to go first, but he was more than happy to agree with his suggestion. He peeled off his shirt, quickly tossing it aside. You felt the mattress dip as he got on his knees, positioning himself behind you. A large hand landed securely on your hip, and Gojo used the other hand to fist his cock. The tip was messy with precome as he dragged it over your slit, groaning at the feeling of your slick folds against him. “Can’t wait to feel you coming all around my cock, angel,” he gritted out, slowly starting to push inside of you. 

Your already trembling legs wobbled further as his length started pushing past the tight rings of muscle. “Ngh.” You bit down on your bottom lip as your head dipped down, staring at the pattern on the sheets. You knew you were more than aroused, but adjusting to his size proved to be more than a handful. Your eyes stayed focused on the sheets as his endless inches continued to enter you. 

The sight of Gojo’s cock sinking into you was enough to make Geto’s mouth water. He walked and stood at the side of the bed, eyes fixated on your body accommodating Gojo. Once buried to the hilt, Gojo let out a groan, using one hand to spread your ass cheek to look at the way your cunt hugged his cock. He was convinced it was a perfect fit, that he was meant to be buried inside you. He looked over to Geto, giving your ass an appreciative squeeze. “So fucking tight.” 

“Figured,” Geto answered. His cock throbbed in his pants.

You let out a shaky moan feeling him fully seated inside of you. Your soppy cunt throbbed around him as he slowly pulled hips before slamming them forward. The force made you lurch forward before you heard a tsk. “You said you were ready for him,” Geto’s voice sounded. “You can handle it, angel.” You let out a heavy pant, his voice sounding far away as Gojo’s hips canted forward again. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, determined to live up to your own words. You would take this pounding, you had no intentions of backing down.

Gojo placed his other hand on your hip, his grip as tight as your pussy around his cock as he started his assault. Forward, back. Forward, back. Forward, back. “Fuuuuuck," he gritted out. “So fucking good. Wanted to fuck this pussy the moment I laid my eyes on you.” He was convinced he loved your pussy; the grip, the wetness, the sounds it made, the sounds you made as he continued wrecking it. He mentally scolded Utahime. To think he could have been inside of you ages ago but was prevented from meeting you was downright sinister.

“Ah, fuck," you cried out. It felt like a hammer driving a nail into a block of wood each time his hips surged forward. You feared your nails would make a hole in the sheets from how tightly you gripped them, struggling to stay upright as he continued pounding into you. It felt good, great, his cock reaching the end of you each time he canted forward. “ Sa-Satoru,” you choked out, another breathy moan leaving your lips.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Geto asked, watching the way your ass bounced against Gojo’s hips with each thrust. “You should tell him how good it feels, angel. He’s being very vocal with you, after all.”

“Yeah,” Gojo agreed, giving your ass a firm slap as he thrusted forward again. “Talk to me.”

Moans were interrupted by a yelp when you felt the sting of his hand landing on your ass. His pace didn’t waver, still pounding into you quickly. It was hard to hear them, let alone speak a full sentence with the way it felt like his cock was invading your lungs. “F-Feels good,” you managed to say. “R-Really good.”

“Aw, I think you can say a little more than that,” Geto cooed, reaching for the button on his jeans. “But I’ll give that mouth some use if you really don’t have anything else to say.” He shoved his jeans and briefs down in one quick motion, letting out a sigh of relief as his cock finally sprang free. It was messy, the precome leaking from the head sticky in his hand as he gave his cock a slow stroke.

After peeling off his shirt, Geto climbed onto the bed, shuffling on his knees until he was in front of you. He used a hand to tilt your chin up, bringing you face to face with his cock that slapped against your cheek. Geto had to be as big as Gojo, but he was considerably girthier. His cock continued to graze against your cheek with each one of Gojo's thrusts. “So cute,” Geto commented, using his thumbs to coax your lips apart. “Open up, angel.”

Mindlessly you opened for him, parting your lips. Geto used his other hand to guide his cock into your warm, wet mouth, moaning at the feeling. He eased into your willing mouth, watching as you opened wider to let him in. He throbbed in your mouth at the sight because fuck, you were so hot. “That’s it,” he murmured. “You’re using your mouth better already.”

You mewled at his words, tears pricking at your eyes. Each of Gojo’s thrust sent Geto deeper into your throat. You were impossibly full , whining as you clenched around Gojo and choked on Geto. Sounds of the music were long forgotten as squelches filled the air. 

“Shit,” Gojo hissed, watching the way Geto's cock disappeared inside your mouth. You were taking him like a champ. Gojo surged his hips forward once more, watching as your nose disappeared into Geto’s trimmed pubic hair. “Just making sure she doesn’t miss anything,” he chuckled darkly.

“Let me return the favor.” Geto couldn’t help but smirk, surging his own hips forward to slam you back on Gojo’s cock. 

Your moans were muffled against Geto’s cock as Gojo surged his hips forward again. It was an endless tug of war of pleasure, each of their thrusts hitting the end of you. It was hard to form a coherent thought with Gojo’s cock kissing the tip of your cervix and Geto’s cock occupying your throat. The feeling was honestly… exhilarating. You reached a hand up to grip Geto’s hip for better balance, salvia dribbling from the sides of your mouth.

Geto looked down at you, patting the top of your head. “Aw, angel, look at you.” His hips thrusted forward. “All stuffed up, this suits you.” 

“Fuck, it definitely does,” Gojo agreed, launching his hips forward to sink you back onto Geto’s cock. The crescents of your nails dug into Geto’s skin as you held onto him more tightly, feeling your legs begin to tremble at their words. Gojo gave your ass another slap, relishing in the feeling of how your cunt started to furiously grip him. “Shit, ready to feel you come on my cock, don’t hold back.”

You whined around Geto’s cock, arms shaky as they continued jerking your holes in opposite directions. “Come on angel, let go for him,” Geto encouraged with a thrust. “Want to see that pretty mouth of yours choking on my cock while you come all over his.” He loved the way the corners of your mouths stretched to accommodate him, the way every one of your moans and whines vibrated through him, the way your throat felt like the home he never knew his cock needed. The saliva pooling from your mouth was more attractive to him than it should have been, but what could he say? He seemed to have a knack for liking messy people.

Their words were more than enough to send you over the edge. Your other hand reached up to hold on to Geto as tears rolled down onto your cheeks, cries of pleasure drowned out by your mouth being stuffed full.

Gojo gritted his teeth as he felt your pussy begin to clamp around his cock. He grabbed your hips, sinking himself to the hilt and staying buried inside you to feel every spasm. “Fuck, angel, you feel so fucking good, did so fucking good,” he hissed. He threw his head back momentarily, but quickly decided he didn’t want to miss the view. He withdrew his hips slightly, looking at the way your muscles clenched around him.

Geto couldn’t help but smile at the view of you coming on Gojo’s cock, admiring the way your mouth still gripped him despite your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Perfect mouth,” he praised. “Can’t wait to feel that perfect pussy too.” He slowly began to pull out of your mouth, cock slick with your saliva as he watched you take in a deep breath. 

Gojo moved his hips gently, slow strokes fucking you through your orgasm. It was hard for him to decide if he liked hearing your unmuffled or muffled moans better, but concluded any moan from you was worthy of winning a Grammy. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch the evidence of your orgasm gather around his cock and drip down your thighs. “Sugu, look.”

Geto raised an eyebrow. “You really are a sight, huh?” he chuckled, gently moving your hands from his hips to the rest of the mattress. You slumped forward, continuing to gather breaths of air as you were still reeling from the orgasm. Geto shuffled on his knees to settle beside Gojo to watch as he slowly thrusted into you. “Mhm, such a pretty pussy getting stuffed.” You let out a soft whimper, the erratic spasms of your cunt coming to a standstill. “Let’s switch.”

Gojo nodded, slowly pulling out his cock that was glistening with your juices. “Shit.” More remnants of your orgasm dripped from your hole that was now clenching around nothing. 

“Greedy,” Geto laughed softly.

Gojo took the opportunity to lick a languid stripe over your hole, causing you to let out a soft whimper. “So greedy,” Geto remarked as Gojo let his tongue dip into your whole, gathering every bit of your come on his tongue.

“Shut up,” Gojo grumbled.

“That was great,” you mumbled breathlessly. You rested on your forearms, not trusting your wrists to have enough strength to hold you up.

“Oh, now you can speak?” Geto joked. “That nice, angel. But Satoru has to feel that mouth of yours, so we’re going to stuff you back up. Okay?”

It was hypotonic, the way his velvety voice laced with grace had the ability to be so commanding. Of course you would agree to him without another thought. “Yes,” you answered with a nod of your head. You were already aching to be filled again. “Yes, that’s okay,” you clarified sheepishly.

“Hm, sit up for a sec,” Gojo requested. You obliged, momentarily sitting up on your knees as Gojo shuffled in front of you. He then laid on his back, shuffling his body down the mattress. “Mm, rest your arms down. Make sure this is a good angle.”

You rested your forearms on either side of Gojo’s muscular thighs, his cock looming in front of you. ”Go on,” Geto insisted as he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly. “Don’t have to wait on me.”

Gojo’s cock throbbed as he looked down at you excitedly, watching as you propped yourself your forearm up on one of his thighs and gripped his cock at the base. His body shivered when you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, bucking his hips slightly upward. Once at the top, your tongue swirled around the tip and then licked over his slit. “Fuck angel, that’s good,” Gojo praised, torn between keeping his eyes on you and throwing his head back. 

Geto watched as your mouth continued to work on Gojo, sucking the head into your mouth and beginning to slowly let his inches occupy your mouth. At the sight he fisted his cock, letting the tip rub between your folds. You were already trying to clench around him, and he was more than happy to feed your needy hole with his cock. He lined up with your entrance, and started pushing inside of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the intrusion, feeling your walls begin to stretch around him. Already knowing you were able to take Gojo, you knew you could take Geto, you would take him. Your cunt clenched around him with each passing inch, walls accommodating every ridge and vein on his cock, moans once again muffled by Gojo stuffing your mouth full. Gojo opted to keep his eyes on you, admiring the way your mouth sank down on his cock. Not to mention, he got to see Geto’s face as he sunk inside of you, an expression of pure bliss.

Geto’s view was perfect, being able to see your arousal mixed with your saliva on his cock as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “ God,” he murmured. He pulled his hips back, slowly pushing them forward to listen to the lewd sounds of his thrusts, to watch the way your cunt adjusted to his size. “Such a perfect pussy.” His hands squeezed your ass as he began a steady rhythm of slow thrusts, aiming to reach the end of you each time. 

“Told you,” Gojo said, sitting up on his elbows. Something about hearing both of them praise your cunt made you whine, the sound vibrating around Gojo’s cock. “And you were right, this mouth is perfect.” The additional praise made you clench around Geto as you continued working Gojo with your mouth, burying his length in the back of your throat.

Geto’s steady thrusts continued, and you appreciated the change in pace. You loved how your body was jerking between them before, but feeling every one of Geto’s strokes while your mouth bobbed on Gojo was just as lovely. Maybe they were just great partners to be with, that had to be it. The way your body responded to any of their touches had to be the sign that your conclusion was correct.

Geto couldn’t help but let a smirk dance across his lips as he watched your head continuously bob up and down. “You know, angel,” he began. “Satoru loves it really sloppy. Don’t be afraid to spit all over it.” His hips surged forward. “You should play around with his balls too, he adores that.” He had to admit, as much as it was for Gojo’s pleasure, it was for his own viewing pleasure, too.

“Hey!” Gojo cried out. “Don’t–” Raising only centimeters from Gojo’s cock, you let the excess saliva forming around your mouth drip onto his length. An audible slurp sounded in the room as you took him into your mouth again, letting one hand jerk the parts your mouth couldn't quite reach while the other began to massage his balls. “ Fuuck, ” Gojo hissed, letting his hips buck up slightly. “Just like that, that feels so good.”

“She’s just as messy as you,” Geto chuckled, letting a hand land on your ass before caressing the spot.

“You like messy,” Gojo argued.

“Never said I didn’t,” Geto retorted with a smile, giving you another slow stroke, looking at the way your saliva was pooling around your hand, the base of Gojo’s cock, his pelvis, and dripping down onto his balls. His next stroke was quicker at the sight. 

Your body jerked forward at the force, letting out a low moan. Okay, so maybe the pace didn’t matter at all, it was definitely just them. You had your fair share of being fucked before, but this has been the best experience by a mile . You were already hoping this wouldn’t be a one time thing. You pooled more saliva into your mouth, spitting on Gojo’s cock again. He glided in and out of your mouth with ease as Geto’s thrusts became quicker. Even with the faster pace, every thrust was calculated, controlled. He hit the right spot every time, and the coil in your stomach was starting to unwind again.

Your face was glistening with your own spit and tears, hands gripping the base of Gojo’s cock as your legs began to tremble, again . What number orgasm would that be tonight? The haze in your mind made it hard to keep count. “Don’t be afraid to let go, angel,” Geto coaxed, listening to the cues your body was giving him. He kept stroking that one spot, hands gripping your waist tightly as his hips met yours with each thrust. “Want to see the mess you’re going to make all over my cock. I know you’re loving this shit.”

That was it. You came off of Gojo’s cock with a gasp, letting out a long string of moans as you clamped down on Geto, coating his cock with your orgasm. “That’s it,” Geto murmured, smiling at the wetness coating him. His pelvis was practically soaked, and he loved it. “Doing so fucking good for us, perfect little slut.”

Gojo couldn’t hold back, looking at your fucked out face made him come with a whine, some of his cum spurting onto your cheeks while the rest dripped down his cock and coated his hips. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “You’re both so fucking hot,” he complimented. 

It was hard to imagine you looked good with the way you knew cum and saliva were coating your face, but you took pride in the compliment anyway. Geto slowly withdrew from you, letting his tongue lap up your orgasm before joining you at your side. “Let me clean you two up a bit.” He nudged your face toward his, letting his tongue drag along the sides of your face where Gojo’s cum landed. You felt your face growing hot as he pressed his lips gently against yours afterwards. He gripped the base of Gojo’s cock afterwards, letting his tongue catch the rivulets of cum that were dripping down the shaft. His tongue swirled around the head, catching every droplet that leaked from his slit.

These two were going to be the death of you. You sat up on your knees, thighs squeezing together again to ease an ache that was forming again. It honestly kind of hurt, the constant succession of orgasms and arousal you were experiencing, but you didn’t give a fuck. If the universe called for fucking these two all night, so be it. Your eyes bounced from Geto to Gojo. “I’m having so much fun,” you said breathlessly, chest heaving, forehead sweaty. 

Geto sat up, licking his lips. He looked at the ways your luscious thighs squeezed together and man, was he happy to know you were a horny little thing. His lips pressed against yours again, tongue swiping along your bottom lip. It only took a moment for your lips to part, tongue still coated with Gojo’s cum pushing past your lips. Your tongues danced together, and Gojo sat up on his forearms. His cock was already getting hard again as he watched. “We can keep going,” Gojo said quickly, fisting his cock to regain a full erection.

Geto pulled away from your lips, dotting your nose with a swift kiss before his attention turned to Gojo. “Oh, I know,” Geto answered. His attention was back on you. “What do you say angel, want to come a few more times?”

Was he dumb? “Yes,” you answered with a swift nod. “I would love that.”

“Why don’t you get on top of Satoru?” You nodded, shuffling with a whine as you swung one leg over Gojo’s torso. Geto shuffled off the bed, standing at the side as he gave his cock coated with your arousal a slow stroke. “Satoru, come over here a little.”

Gojo removed the hand from himself and gripped your hips, moving your body along with his to the edge of the bed where Geto stood. Geto thrusted his hips, letting his slick cock rub against Gojo’s face. Gojo eagerly opened his mouth, and Geto guided his cock inside Gojo’s hot mouth. “I know you’ve been waiting your turn,” Geto chuckled, thrusting his hips forward. “Aren’t you happy knowing you aren’t the only one that loves a mouth full of cock?” Gojo muffled out a reply around him, causing some salvia to drip onto the floor.

“Fuck,” you choked out. Gojo’s hands stayed securely on your hips as you reached for his cock that was still slick with your saliva. You gave him a few lazy strokes before hovering above him, slowly sinking down onto his inches. It was still a tight fit, making you hiss as your hips finally met his. You planted your hands on his muscled chest, letting your hips rock forward slightly. The motion deliciously made your clit rub against his pelvis, and you threw your head back. “Ah,” you moaned. 

Geto didn’t show Gojo any mercy, hips steadily thrusting forward into his mouth. That’s how Gojo liked it. “Use him all you want, angel,” Geto chuckled with another thrust of his hips. “He likes being a little fuck toy.” Gojo muffled out another response around his cock, and Geto thrusted his hips forward again, looking down pointedly at Gojo. “I’m obviously not using you enough if you’re still managing to talk.”  

Geto was absolutely right, he always was. Gojo couldn’t help but grip your hips harder as Geto’s cock continued to bully his throat. He loved it, he always did. The only thing that made it better was feeling your warm cunt wrapped around his cock again. The slow rocking of your hips became steady rolls as your heard Geto’s words, moaning each time your clit brushed against Gojo’s pelvis. “That’s so good, ” you moaned. You grew more comfortable, starting to lift your hips and slam your ass down against him.

A muffled moan left Gojo’s lips as you began to ride him more fiercely, every rock of your hips making Geto plunge deeper into his throat. He would be the biggest liar in the world if he said this wasn’t a position he wanted to be in every night. Geto used one hand to grip his hair harshly, surging his hips forward until Gojo’s nose was buried in his pubic hairs. “That’s better,” Geto chuckled. Geto’s attention turned to you, catching your lips in a kiss as you continued riding Gojo. The kiss was the sloppiest one he shared with you yet, lips desperate to catch each other with each movement you were both trying to make against Gojo, but neither of you cared. Geto loved hearing you moan against his lips while Gojo was busy choking on his cock.

Gojo reached one of his hands up to squeeze one of your breasts, desperately bucking his hips upward to match the way your hips were slamming against him. He could already feel you clenching around his cock, and he whined knowing you would be coming around him again.

“F-fuck,” you gasped out as Gojo’s thrusts met yours, bouncing against him with more force. It was damn near exhausting feeling yourself come undone again, spurting all around Gojo’s cock. Cunt still spasming, you slumped against Gojo’s chest, catching your breath atop his solid, warm body. Gojo moved both of his hands so they cupped your ass, squeezing at the mounds as Geto continued to move in and out of his mouth.

“You alright, angel?” Geto asked, loosening the grip on Gojo’s hair as he started to pull out of his mouth. The amount of saliva that pooled out of Gojo’s mouth was damn near obscene, he loved it.

“Hey, what about me?” Gojo asked, lips swollen.

Geto rolled his eyes. “You’re fine.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that left your lips as you turned your attention to Geto, eyes locked on his still hard cock. “Mhm,” you nodded, sinking your bottom teeth into your lips. “I think I can still come one more time.”

“I didn’t doubt that one bit,” Geto agreed with a nod of his head. He used the back of his hand to wipe at the sweat forming on his forehead. 

You rose off of Gojo’s cock with weak legs, body practically flopping onto his side. Gojo turned to his side to face you, moving his body closer to yours so his cock could slot against your stomach. Without a word he pressed his lips against yours, already eager to push his tongue into your mouth. Maybe you said that statement with more confidence than stamina, because you were tired. What you weren’t though, was a quitter. You would come one more time.

Geto gently moved onto the bed behind you as you willed your lips to move against Gojo’s, lifting one of your thighs to wrap around his waist. Geto pressed in closer, slowly pushing into you from behind. It was still a tight fight, and fuck, he just knew this couldn’t be a one time thing. Not a chance. He kept a steady hand on your hip as his inches entered you.

A weak moan left your lips as Geto entered you, providing your cunt with languorous thrusts. His lips pressed a soft kiss against your neck as his hips rolled slowly with short but deep thrusts. “ Fuck , angel, you did so good,” he mumbled against you skin. “Come whenever you’re ready. Need to feel that pussy make a mess on me one more time.”

Gojo’s lips pulled away for a moment as his hands caressed your face, his hips still thrusting his cock against your bare stomach. “ So fucking good,” Gojo praised. Another thrust against your stomach. “I knew you would be fucking amazing.” His lips were back on yours, sucking and biting on your lower lip before thrusting his tongue back into your mouth.

You were warm, being sandwiched between their bodies again. It felt like this is where you were meant to me. It felt safe, secure, the way your sweaty bodies all pressed together. Geto’s warm hand traveled the expanse of your hips as he continued with gentle strokes, already starting to feel you lock down on him. Gojo was still furiously exploring your mouth with his tongue, rutting against the smooth skin of your stomach. You panted against Gojo’s mouth as you let go one last time, wrapping an arm around Gojo’s back as you splashed onto Geto’s cock.

“That’s it, angel,” Geto coaxed softly, continuing to slowly rut into you as you clamped down on him. “Let it all out, you deserve it. Took us both so well. I could do this all day.”

“T-Thank you,” you whimpered, letting out breathy moans.

“Fuck,” Gojo murmured, thrusting his hips one more time as he came slotted against your stomach. “God , you are absolutely perfect.” 

You were swelling with joy again at the praise as you felt Gojo spurt against you. “You guys are great,” you murmured softly.

Geto slowly pulled out of you as Gojo gently pulled his body away from yours. You rolled onto your back as Geto shook his head seeing Gojo’s cum painting your stomach. “Always so messy.” He rose to his knees, shuffling over until he was between the apex of your thighs. He placed his hands on your waist, dipping his head down to clean you up once more, letting his tongue lap up the cum. Your body quivered as his tongue moved in long swipes to get every drop, leaving your skin clear and polished once he was done. 

“Sugu.” Gojo eyed Geto’s still hard cock. He always insisted on coming last, and that had to be one of Gojo’s favorite parts. Gojo climbed off of the bed, settling on his knees with his hands patiently at his sides. You looked over at him, puzzled.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Geto laughed, pressing one last kiss against your stomach before climbing off the bed, standing in front of Gojo who was sticking his tongue out expectantly.

Despite how spent you were, you didn’t want to be left out of a single thing. It only took you a second to realize what was going on. On wobbly legs, you maneuvered off the bed, sinking down onto your knees and sticking out your tongue as well.

“Oh, you too?” Geto chuckled, giving his cock some fast strokes. “Well, alright. You can have some too.” Seeing the two of you waiting for his cum brought him to the edge quickly. He stilled, gripping his cock tightly as his cum spurted onto yours and Gojo’s tongues. 

Gojo happily gulped down Geto’s seed, licking his lips afterwards. You did the same, now officially spent. 

“Should I call an Uber home?” you laughed breathlessly.

“Oh please,” Gojo laughed, offering you a hand as he rose to his feet. You took his offered hand as he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling you into an embrace against his chest. Geto joined you two on the bed, snuggling in behind you as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Good night, angel,” Geto murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head.

“Great night,” Gojo chuckled, dabbing a wet kiss onto your forehead.

“Good night,” you murmured, feeling the lull of sleep already taking over your body. You did agree with Gojo, though. It was a great night.

A week later, you rang the bell to Geto’s and Gojo’s apartment, duffle bag slung over your shoulder. A few moments later, Gojo opened the door with a smile, already reaching out to grab the bag for you. “Hey there,” you smiled.

“Hello, hello,” Gojo sang, stepping aside so you could enter. The apartment was already fragrant with whatever Geto was cooking.

You stepped into the kitchen, seeing Geto pulling some chicken cutlets out of the oven. “Smells great,” you commented, taking a seat at the dining table. Gojo joined you at the table after putting your bag down in his room.

“Thanks, angel,” he said, resting them on the counter. “Figured I make us some dinner first.”

“It was my idea,” Gojo piped up. “It’ll give us the energy to fuck all night.”

“That’s exactly the same thing I was thinking,” you answered with a laugh. 

You were absolutely looking forward to a repeat of last week again. With the knowledge you had know, maybe it could last even longer.

#stsg x reader #goge x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru x reader #ebs writes

[reareaotaku]

Superboy vs Robin

Summary: The life of 3 best friends that get confused when realizing they have a crush on their other friend, Y/n Prince, daughter of Wonder Woman Pairings: Jon Kent x Fem! Reader, Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader Tw: Love V [NOT TRIANGLE!!! IT'S A 'V'], Slow Burn? Taglist: N/a

[This probably would have been better to write as a multi-part story instead of a one-shot, so I can really get the slow burn and such... Might make a part 2 if yall like this? Also hope this isn't bad because I've been wanting to write this for over a year....]

You had met the two boys when in the league's spaceship. Your mother was on business and sent you off to do, as she put it 'Children things', before taking off with Batman and Green Lattern. You rolled your eyes at her dismissal, but decided to find something else to do. Besides, hero work was boring anway. Nothing interesting about discussing rules and such anyway.

You walked around the large spaceship, before coming across a particular room. In the room where two kids, boys, around your age you didn't recognize. One of the boys, the one in darker clothes, must have felt your presence, because the second you stepped in he turned around.

Damian knew who you were. He knew who everyone was. He would look like a real fool if he didn't know the daughter of Wonder-woman. Too bad the same couldn't be said for Jon.

You awkwardly stand at the door way, now having both the boys' attention on you. You awkwardly wave, "Hey."

Jon's face lights up and he rushes to you. He loved meeting new people and you were nothing short of pretty. "Hi!" He grabs your hand, engulfing it with his own. "I'm Jon, Jon Kent."

"Y/n Prince." You tried to keep up with his handshake, but he was fast and strong, and by the time you could gather what was going on he had already let your hand go.

You looked past Jon back at the emo boy, but he was just staring at you. Jon looked over to see what you were looking at, before gesturing towards his friend.

"Oh, that's Damian. Don't mind him. He's.... Shy."

"I'm not shy. I just don't have any reason to speak to her."

Jon gasps, before glaring at his friend, "That's rude, Damian." He turns back to you, his face flushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry about him. He's not good with people."

You nod, still staring at Damian. "He's Batman's kid, right? The son of those assassins?"

Damian's eyes widen, but only for a brief second. He could let such an emotion out.

"My mother mentioned it a while ago. She didn't say much, just that you were... Different."

"Yeah, he is different." Jon jokes, causing you both to chuckle, but Damian just rolls his eyes.

---

You and Jon stuck your faces to the fish tank. Neither of you had ever seen a fish tank before. You were both stuck in the house by your parents in fear of you revealing yourselves on accident. Your parents have isolated you both- Even Damian was isolated, but he wasn't as naive and foolish as you and Jon.

"Oh, that one's purple," You point to a triangle-shaped fish.

"No, it's a dark blue," Jon argues, causing you to side-eye him.

You rolled your eyes, but don't respond.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Yeah, Jon?"

He looks over at you, wide eyed and excited, "You ever been Tire-rolling?"

"Tire-rolling?"

---

"I don't know if this is a good idea, Jon-" You try and reason, as your hands grip the tire's rubber.

He smiles, his hands gripping the tire, "Oh, it'll be fun. Promise!" He then pushes you, but instead of pushing you at a normal strength, he accidentally uses his super strength and sends you flying. His eyes widen as his mouth drops, before he runs after you, hoping you don't get hurt.

You scream as the tire jumps and hits multiple things while going faster than you've ever gone before. You grip the inside of the tire so hard, that you can feel your nails digging into your palm. You hear cars honking, but there's nothing you can do, without using your powers.

Though, luck must have been on your side, because while you're mid way in the air, something goes through the tire and harshly pulls you down. Your face slams into the tire, your hands ripping the tire's rubber. The tire falls flat on the ground and you sit up, rubbing your head.

Above you was the one and only, Damian Wayne. He was in his school uniform and he was looking down at you annoyed. In his hand was a grappling hook, which you assume he used to save you.

You quickly stand up, brushing off your clothes, "Uh, thanks."

Before Damian can respond, like he would, you hear Jon calling out to you.

"Y/n! Oh my god, Y/n! Are you okay?" He's nearly out of breath as he runs up to you before he stops. "Oh. Uh, hi Damian."

There's a moment of awkward silence, before Jon goes back to his normal self.

"What are you doing, Damian?"

"Nothing." Damian is quick, calculated even.

You had only known the two boys for a few months, but it felt like you had known Jon your whole life and this moment felt like the first time meeting Damian. Though, Damian was busy, so you couldn't really blame him. He was the son of a man with an empire and an assassination group. He was bound to be tied up from time to time.

"Uh, do you want to hang out, Damian?"

Damian is taken by surprise. You wanted to hang out? With him? Why?

Jon went to speak for Damian, but Damian interrupts him, "Sure."

"Really?" Both you and Jon speak at the same time, before you both blush out of embarrassment.

"I mean, great. Wow, okay. Yeah, let's hang out."

---

Damian groaned, before laying down on the roof. He could hear Jon and Y/n snickering to themselves, probably over something stupid. He closes his eye, their voices slowly fading from his mind. He didn't know how you had convinced him to hang out with you on a roof in the middle night.

He didn't like you, so he didn't know why he listened to you. He had no reason to care about what you said or thought, but yet here he was.

You had some kind of pull over him and he didn't know why. There was nothing about you that was different from the other superheroes. Sure, you were pretty, but so was Starfire, Raven, Super-woman, etc.

He looks over at you as you lean on Jon's shoulder, whispering some secret into his ear. He wondered what secrets you two were sharing. Maybe if he asked you'd let him in? He didn't know.

He takes his eyes off of you and looks back at the sky. It was a dark and cloudy night, like most nights in Gotham. Though, unlike most nights, it was quiet; Almost peaceful.

It bothered Damian. More than he'd like to admit. He felt an ich in his skin, like he was supposed to be doing something, but there was nothing to do. There was no fight to fight or crime to solve. It was peaceful for the first time in a long time.

---

Jon liked you, a lot. Like more than he's ever liked someone in his life. He feels immense emotions when he's around you, even if your mother doesn't like him. Though, your mother didn't like men period.

He was thankfully you didn't receive that quality from your mother. You were much nicer and happier than your mother. But that could be because you weren't tortured in the same way your mother was by the women of Themyscira.

In fact, they adored you. They treated you like some kind of goddess and cherished you. Jon understood though. You were perfect- At least to him you were. He thought everyone should treat you like the perfect person you are because you deserve nothing less.

---

You were alone with Damian for the first time in all the years you've known each other. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn't know how you were going to tell them you were going to be leaving for Themyscira.

Your mother wanted you to be trained by the Amazons to be able to control your powers and abilities. While she herself was banished, she knew they would welcome you with welcome arms.

You knew Jon would take it hard, but it was only going to be for a year. Just a year. A year you'd be away from your best friends. So, there was a part of you that hoped if you told Damian first, it'd be easier to break it to Jon.

"So, when do you leave?"

You looked over at Damian, confused, "Leave?"

"I heard your mother talking to my father. She said she was sending you to Themyscira to train. So," He sits up on his bed, making direct eye contact with you, "when do you leave?"

"Next month. I'll be gone for a year."

"A year?"

"Yeah. My mom wanted me to stay for 3, but I was able to talk her down from it."

"Have you told Jon?"

"No..."

"Well, you know he's not going to react well."

"Yeah. That's why I've been procrastinating it."

"Can I write you?"

You frown, "No. The island is cut off from the world. So, no contact at all. Not even with my mom."

He now frowns, but says nothing more.

---

You sigh, leaning on your hand, your sword tossed on the ground. Before you stood Philippus, your mentor.

"Princess Y/n, what is bothering you so?"

You couldn't tell her you missed your friends. If she knew they were boys you knew you would get scolded. The Amazons didn't like men, because they were chaos and destruction and they were peaceful. A part of you understood, because you've seen the terrible things men can do, but your friends- they weren't like those men.

"Nothing... Just tired."

She takes your answer, even though she knows you're lying. You were frustrated and annoyed. You had been here for a month and found yourself making no progress. This was pointless.

You could have been with your friends, but here you were on some stupid island. You wanted to your friends.

"You know, if you don't get these down in the upcoming year, you'll have to stay."

You straighten up and glare at the woman. "No, I won't-"

Philippus quickly turns around, looking at you offended, "Excuse me?"

"Nothing." You quickly respond not wanting to repeat yourself.

She huffs, rolling her eyes, but decides to leave the conversation.

---

It had been a year since you were forced, by your mother, to train on the Themyscira Island. They wanted you to know how to use your powers to the fullest potential. It was fine... But you missed your friends. You wondered what they were doing. You wondered if they missed you too.

---

Jon was estatic. You were finally going to return from the island. Though, there was a part of him that was worried that you wouldn't remember them or even worse, you would hate them.

"You worry too much," Damian told him.

Jon sighs, trying to collect himself, "I'm just worried." Jon fiddles on his toes, as he repeated looks out of the window, hoping to see you pull up. Though, you were no where to be found. He walks away from the window, his shoulders dropping. "How far is that place?"

"Themyscira? It's a few weeks by boat, but she'll be here soon. She's home now."

Jon lightens up, "Home?"

"Yeah, she won't be here for a few more hours."

Jon glares at Damian, "You had me here looking like an idiot!"

Damian chuckles, "Yeah. I did, didn't I?"

---

Damian wasn't surprised by your appearance, unlike Jon. Damian had already seen you, without you knowing of course. You think he'd let you leave without any kind of contact? He knew everything, thanks to his connections. Though, nothing could compare to you really being in front of you.

Jon was the first to hug you. His arms squeezed you tightly, nearly causing you to lose your breath. He didn't want to let you go- Just hold you forever. He didn't want you leaving forever, but he was forced to let you go.

"You look great, Y/n."

You smile, a blush forming, "You too, Jon." You look around Jon to see Damian, who was avoiding eye contact. It almost reminded you of when you had first met the boys. "No hug, Damian?"

Damian finally looks at you, his natural glare on his face. Unlike Jon, who had let his hair grow out, Damian still had shorter hair, but his features were sharp. Though, that didn't surprise you. What did take you by surprise though is how much he looked like his father.

While Jon looked like a mix of Clark and Lois, Damian just looked like his father. Well, minus his golden skin- He got that from his mother.

Speaking of Jon, you felt him squeeze your bi-cep. You looked at him confused and he blushed.

"Uh, what are you doing, Jon?"

"Your biceps. They're like... Huge." He's fascinated by your arms, even comparing it to his own. While he was naturally strong, because of his powers, you had trained relentlessly for a year and it showed when your arms were bigger than his.

You chuckled at his amusement, before his eyes lit up, "Ah, Y/n you've missed out on so much- Come on," He grabs your arm, leading you inside the headquaters of the Justice League. You are stopped though when Damian grabs your arm that Jon didn't have. Jon looks back, wondering why you stopped when realizing Damian had grabbed you.

"Jon, why don't you head up. I just want to talk to Y/n."

Jon seems reluctant, but you turn to him, "I'll catch up. Promise."

He sighs, but ultimately goes up the stairs and inside the building.

"You look nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That means a lot coming from you, you know?"

Damian avoids eye contact. He's worried that you might see all his emotions, feelings and thoughts. He didn't want you knowing his darkest thoughts. "Yeah.. Uh, Jon missed you a lot... Obviously. Um..." Damian had never been like this- Lost for words. He always knew what to say. He had everything calculated, but now... Well, he felt lost. He felt your stare on him, waiting for him to finish, but he felt his tongue felt twisted. "It's good to have you back."

"Yeah, well, it's good to be back. You know, I've missed you a lot... And Jon. I've missed you both a lot."

Damian finally looks at you. Your eyes bleeding into his own. For a moment it felt like you two were the only ones in the world. Everything else was just dark and all that was left was you. That was until another voice spoke.

"Y/n."

You both looked up to see your mother. She gestured for you to come inside and you looked back at Damian.

"Well, I guess that I have to go."

"Yeah... I'll see yah."

"Yeah... you will."

You rush up the stairs, trying to stop the blush from forming on your face. You were so embarrassed and felt like the conversation was stupid. You wished you could have done it differently, but it was Damian. You were sure he wasn't as pressed about it as you.

If only you knew how much your life was about to change forever- All thanks to teenage boys' puberty.

#jon kent x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne #jon kent #jonathan kent #superman #batman #yandere x reader #wonder woman #robin x reader

[sgiandubh]

Show must go on...

... and rather very much in your face, mind you.

Scottish Xena posted two stories at about 7 AM, counting calories, and, in the process, making sure to address roughly any objections that were ventilated on this side of the fandom, including this very page. See for yourself...

What are the odds she'd be talking about nutrition? Right. I am not an idiot. I know when something is way Over The Top - less is more, Xena. Less is always more: there was no need to overdo it like that, placemat and all, if you wanted to remain credible. You read us and you have been instructed to do so, just to perfectly stick to your walking, talking and very profitable Local Innuendo script.

Fair enough. And then, you also tell us that you will be at Hyrox today around noon, to film some ESN promo: your bread and butter, of course. S is just for shits, giggles and that Instagram yield:

So, there's that. *urv connecting dots like crazy, without having the slightest clue of what was discussed at that table. Her own brand of cheap fanfic for the masses, for the other five clowns commenting, out of which three at least are her own sock accounts.

Cue in the Useful Idiot. The Brazilian Tourist and Fan. Uma senhorita tão desagradável, who changed her story in between her first reaction reel and the debrief, back at her suburban Airbnb or where the fuck that was filmed.

First reaction reels:

'Just saw SH.' Not alone, oh no: 'com uma moça'. With a girl. So yeah, she had qualms asking for a pic.

First lie and dramatization. She posts a message for S where she explains she did not dare approach him, but she saw him alright. The one in Portuguese is completely different, though: 'I am going to post the video without sound, because I could only say "what a shame", while I was filming him on the sly. LOL.' I guess she thinks we are all idiots, or something. Also, in her reel, she confirms: 'ele estava almoçando com outra pessoa'/he was having lunch with another person. So far, so good, right?

Six hours later, a second debrief batch of reels, taking her reader's questions. The narrative changes, with a strong bias:

'Yes, he is super accessible and educated! I did not freak out, I just politely asked to take a pic (what I do consider the right way to approach famous people, at the end they are still human beings).'

For the people in the back: she is a lady. And a liar. The worst kind of liar, actually: a narcissistic one. Let's see what else she takes great pains telling us: 'ele tem um fandom bem tóxico'/he has a very toxic fandom. From now on, we just know what to expect, right?

Second answer, she explains he is very tall. He went inside to pay the bill and then he also went towards the bathroom (wtf?), she followed him inside, she asked for the menu, he finally went out and she approached him ('abordei' - 🙄) between the door and her table. Classy.

Cue in to a third answer (and second lie) to a very odd question: 'what did he smell like?' or something along those lines. For this one, I had to ask confirmation from Shipper Mom, who told me two things (she knew next to nothing about the whole episode- no bias): ' it's damn hard to understand what the hell she is talking about, she is eating half of her words. Plus you can tell she is lying.'

He doesn't smell, she tells us. But hey, she also freaked out a bit, finally (I thought she hadn't?!) and then well, 'ele estava com outra pessoa, uma moça, deve ser a namorada dele'/ he was with another person, a girl, probably his girlfriend'. But then he went inside (again? wasn't he coming out of the venue?), 'and the girl stayed at the table'. Things go murky afterwards, like they absolutely always do: she tells us she spoke to her (?), but would not say anything more, yet making sure to tell us she 'saw both of them'.

If anyone has a better version than mine, please step forward: we listened three times in a row, with Shipper Mom, a teacher of Portuguese and published literary translator. She was appalled by this young woman's carelessness and mendacity.

The Brazilian Tourist Fan is 23 years old (and it shows), she presents herself as a journalist and writer:

Seriously? What are the odds?

And finally, to wrap it up, the classical cheering moment, at yesterday's Hyrox: ' yeah, Sarah, nice!'

Nice, indeed.

FFS. Will it ever end?

Yes, it will. Anything ends: even Stalin's terror.

#fandom #shitshow

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k

You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around. 

You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university. 

When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books. 

As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel. 

God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?

He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.

Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room. 

“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?” 

Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.” 

You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all. 

“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.

“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.

You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”

“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them. 

“Mierda!” Miguel yells.

Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.

“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up. 

His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment. 

~

It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match. 

They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet. 

So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!” 

You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.

But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face. 

He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you. 

“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again. 

You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.

~

You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party. 

You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him. 

A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it. 

“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs. 

“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”

“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”

“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”

You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.

“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed. 

You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor. 

You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his. 

Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view. 

Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does. 

The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.

~

The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner. 

When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch. 

“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”

“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pajamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I liked your pajamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”

“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.” 

You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”

“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.” 

He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade. 

You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”

You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”

“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.

“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit. 

“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.

“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.

“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?” 

“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”

His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room. 

~

Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.

You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now. 

A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing. 

Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.

“Why? M’fine,” you slur. 

“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?” 

“Just noticed,” he shrugs. 

You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry. 

“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…” 

You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?” 

The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.” 

“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you. 

“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.

“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest. 

“Miguel?” 

“Yeah?”

“Wanna dance with me?” 

They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing. 

Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you. 

You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.

You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do. 

You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble. 

Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off. 

“Let’s get some air, huh?” 

You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while. 

His fingers graze the back of your hand.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party. 

You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?” He chuckles and nods. 

“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle. 

“Wasn’t that many…” 

He laughs.

“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names. 

“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there. 

You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified. 

“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.” 

You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side. 

~

Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.

Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after. 

A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag. 

“Fuck.” 

You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium. 

When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!” 

Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief. 

“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a  bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright. 

You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him. 

“You’re sick?” he asks. 

“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering. 

“Stay for the match?”

“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room. 

You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him. 

Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?

Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place. 

You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat. 

As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field. 

He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.

“Thanks.” 

He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.

“I didn’t want you to think that —“

“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.

“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling. 

“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…” 

His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend. 

Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”

“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”

“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.” 

“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours. 

You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated. 

You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s. 

You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.” 

You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.

“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly. 

“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” you smile. 

Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. 

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #bbf!miguel #soccerplayer!miguel

[piinkpraise]

rockstar's girlfriend...🫀

₊˚⊹♡

a/n: looking at her face makes me wanna moan.

(not checked0

warnings: 90's/ early 2000's AU (not fully realistic and matched to the time), strap riding 😩, rockstar!ellie, strap sucking 😩, ellie wears the strap under her pants, smoking, swearing, mean!ellie, jealous!ellie, slight fluff

red lighting, smoke, and laughter filled the dressing room. "here have some baby" ellie sweet voice rang through your ears, putting her cigarette between your lips. so you did, you inhaled the smoke as ellie talked with her band members, laughing about god knows what. after each smoke, your hand fully wrapped around the neck of the coke bottle in your free hand, while the other hand held the cigarette, red lipstick painted the rim of the bottle.

the same color painted on ellie's cheeks, lips, and neck under purple hickies. you had no one to hide ellie's large hickies on your neck with red lipstick. but that was the point, you were ellie's, people needed to know.

"no, i don't want that song, i told you to boot it," ellie said annoyed, huffing to you when the backstage manager walked away.

"they never listen do they babe?" she asks you, stealing the cigarette from your hand smoking it for herself. "not like i do" you smile, to which ellie grins and gives a quick kiss to your lips. "nuhuh, you're just special baby, no one listens like you do" she has a slight smirk mixed with a grin on her face before putting out the cigarette in the ash tray and stealing the bottle of coke from your hand and taking a swig of it and handing it back.

the night was long, you danced along and smiled while ellie preformed, you even met someone there as well, a new friend, which you don't have many of, ellie's band members are your friends but they don't really like you much, they thought you were too prissy, ellie ignored those comments and said you were just right. ellie saw the girl who was now you 'friend', from stage how she stared at you while you stared right into ellie's eyes with so must lust and love, how her front 'accidentally' jutted against your ass once and a while, you too distracted by your breath taking girlfriend to notice.

you just couldn't wait to get back to your trailer, in the middle of an open land with trees, ellie chose the trailer because she was waiting to save up enough money to build the two of you a house on the same land, 'gonna make a life together baby' ellie would say when she'd stand on the acres of land, staring at the view that looked over the city.

ellie always ate you out before a gig, sloppily and messily in the dressing room while you gripped the vanity for dear life, for good luck, and if the gig went well, she gave you a reward for being her good luck charm, but her gig always went well.

so most nights she sat on your bed, you straddling her and sliding up and down on her silicone cock until you couldn't anymore, she was sex driven and you loved it.

when her performance was over, she walked to you in the crowd, to which you grinned so innocently at her, wrapping your arms around her neck and going on your tip toes even in your heels to kiss her lips. "you did so good baby!" you smile.

ellie wanted to smile back, hug you close to her and whisper sweet things in your ear, but green clouded her brain. "I met someone really nice, she's right over-" you started. "comon we're going home" she said firmly, giving your new 'friend' a glare as she grabbed your coach purse and tugged you along with her. "baby what's wrong? i want you to meet my friend" you pout.

she opens the door to her red mustang and helps you inside before closing the door and going in on her side. "your 'friend' was grinding on you" she starts the car and tries to find your purse, opening the zipper to the bag that was in your lap and grabbing the Marlboro's out of it and the pink lighter, pushing it between her lips and igniting it before dropping the lighter in her lap. "baby you know i hate it when you smoke it the car" you scold her, furrowing your eyebrows. "then blow down the fucking windows" she rests her arms on the sill of her window with one hand on the wheel as she drives.

"why are you being so mean?" you ask, eyes worried that you did something. "I-" she sighs and taps her finger against the wheel. "I'm sorry angel, i'm not mad at you" she reassures you, laying a hand on your thigh. you smile and put your hand on top of hers, she had the biggest soft spot for you.

"el you know i'm only yours, i love you so much baby, no one else," you smile and intertwine her fingers, it almost made her calm down, but she wanted to be inside of you, deep inside of your tight little cunt.

she didn't reply, she shook her leg up and down and pulled over into an empty field. "els?" your voice was distant to her as she pulled down her pants, 9 inch red strap bouncing free, and grabbed your thigh, unbuckling your seat belt as her strong hands lifted you on her lap. "els?" you say again, looking at the strap. "shut up and suck it" she said.

her words made your thighs clench together and your panties soaked. "knees, now" she says again and you quickly get on your knees on the car floor, pulling yourself up and wrapping your lips around the tip of it, trying to tease her. but she doesn't want that, she pushes her hips forward, the plastic sliding into your mouth and to the back of your throat. you gag loudly and she smirks, hand tangling in your hair.

she spreads her legs, the base of the strap hitting her clit every time your lips meet the base of the strap. "be a good girl and take it all baby, put that mouth to good use" she says, your hands twist and stroke what you physically cannot take and push down, stimulating her clit and watching her whimper for you. "fuck baby, s-such a good slut" she moans, it only makes you more encouraged as you come back up for air, a string of spit connecting from the strap to your lips. you took it again, sliding those red lips up and down the strap at a quick pace just to please your girlfriend who's moans were increasing.

"gonna make me cum baby, holy shit" she groans, watching your fucked out face, lipstick smudged, mascara tears from your gag reflex and tears staining your foundation. you pounded down the strap onto her clit, making her moan and gasp, bucking her hips over and over to slide down your throat. "fuckfuck gonna cum angel-" her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth drops open as she let's out a loud moan of your name, bucking her hips until she finished.

"good girl, good fucking girl" she praised through her orgasm.

once she came back to earth she looked at you, sitting there patiently with her strap out of your mouth, waiting for your next direction. "like you don't know how ta' function without my directions" she mumbles. "come up here babe" she nods, and you do, you straddle her lap and look at her as she grabs a nearby tissue and wipe off the mascara tears and smudged lipstick from your face. "think you did good enough f'me today, think you deserve a reward baby?" she asks. you nod eagerly and shift on her lap. "yeah you do, ride my shit baby" she smirks as you happily shimmy your black mini skirt down and discard your red lace panties on her passengers seat and then align yourself with the tip, she moans as she watches you sink down on her strap.

"greedy pussy" she remarks, holding your hips as you whimper at the stretch. you let yourself slide up and down on it, your hole sucking in her strap each time you slid up until you pushed yourself all the way down and the tip kissed your cervix, making you hiss in pain and pleasure. "s'good els.." you whimper and moan, holding her shoulders and moving yourself up and down on the plastic. "fuck yeah it is, 'cause I'm the only who makes you feel like this, understand?" she glares, slapping your ass with a palm. you yelp and push your hips forward, making you moan loudly. "i fucking said do you understand?" she said firmly, slapping your ass again.

"yes els, I understand," you struggle to say, moaning each time. "wanna hear you say it baby doll" she says, thrusting up into you and taking the hem of your baby tee off and over your head, your tits bouncing perfectly and steadily with each slide and bounce in your matching red lace bra which she unclasped and threw into the back seat. "only you fuck me so good els, only you, no one else" you moan, head thrown back as she gropes your tits and leaves kiss marks on your neck, with purple bruises.

"good fucking girl, 'cause these tits are mine..." she kisses them, tongue rolling around your nipple, making your moans increase. "and this ass is mine..." she fondles with the skin on your ass, smacking it, you high building in your abdomen. "and this fucking pussy is mine" she says so harshly, thumb circling your clit hard as she cups your soaked cunt.

that pushed you over the edge, making you throw your head back and your face contort as you clench around her cock, her hips thrusting up so fast into you. "shit, fuck els, els i'm cumming ohmygod!" you yell, sliding up and down fast as the black behind your squinted shut eyes bursts into white as you finish, your cum dripping down ellie's strap and onto her jeans.

you lay limp in her arms and whine at the sensitivity. "shh shh shh, it's okay baby doll, I gotchu, you're alright" she coos as you whine, slowly taking the strap out of you. she knew how sensitive you were after an orgasm so she always held you until you recovered from it, as long as you needed, she would hold you in her arms, stroke your back, play with your hair, and whisper sweet things in your ear.

"you did so good baby, so good" she coos, hands playing with your hair. "Love you els.." you whisper below her ear. a grin plays across her face and she kissed your head. "love you so much more baby doll"

#tlou #tlou smut #tlou x reader #tlou ellie #ellie #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #strap riding #strap sucking #rockstar!ellie

[rebelliousstories]

What Did You Say?

Relationship: Norm McLean x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @fallout-girl219

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Pregnancy

Word Count: 1,406

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: The whole reason they got married was with the goal of repopulation. That is why anyone in the Vaults gets married. Being married to Norm is a challenge all on its own.

Norm was speechless. That alone was highly unusual for him as he did not get speechless, simply he did not voice every thought that pops into his head. But here he sat, without a thought to voice, and a mouth with which to do it. He did not process the fact that his wife was slowly loosing her smile, and instead of excitedly bouncing, she was shifting nervously.

“What’s going on in your head, sweetheart?” She asked, concerned for her husband’s wellbeing. In the entire time that they had been married, or even had known each other, she had never known him to be this paralyzed.

“Are you sure?” Sure, it was not the best thing to say, but it was the first thing that came to him.

“Of course I’m sure. The doctor checked me a couple days ago,” she moved to hold his hands. “Norm, we’re having a baby.” While she held out hope that at some point he would get excited with her, that hope was draining by the second.

“And it’s mine?” Again, it was not the best thing to come out of his mouth because her look turned sour really quick.

“Are you accusing me of something, Norman?” Her voice was no longer sweet; this was a dangerous growl.

“No, no. I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m just- we’re having a baby?” He was still not on the same plane of existence as her.

“Yes, Norm. We’re having a baby. I thought you’d be excited, or joyful, or even able to crack a darn smile. What is going on with you?” She was starting to tip over into yelling and their vault doors could only do so much sound proofing.

“No I’m- I mean, yes I… just,” he stammered, “I’m just not sure this is the best time.” He murmured, and began to fiddle with his hands.

“Well, it’s apparently a perfect time according to our bodies. Ever heard the expression, ‘it takes two to tango’? I didn’t make a baby by myself.” It felt like such an obvious observation, and yet, she felt like she was trying to talk to a child.

“I know that, I’m just. I’m not sure I’m fit to be a dad. I’m just gonna-” and he took off. Opening their door, Norm left their little humble home to go off to who knows where. Slouching to the floor, she held her stomach and cried. Sure people got scared to be parents but they did not run out on their pregnant wives while doing so? Thoughts ran wild in her head with Norm gone. Would she end up being a single mother? She knew that divorce was a thing but no one in the last two hundred years had one in the vaults. If someone was a single parent, it was because one parent had died.

Her sobs continued well into the night. Even when dinner time came, she ate alone; staring at the empty seat but a full plate where Norm would sit. She went on with her nightly routine as if nothing was wrong, as if half of her world was not missing. The bed felt too big now without her husband. As she lay in bed, she could not help but to let the tears come once again. She cried herself to sleep without even realizing it, and was only awoken by the morning bell. Her husband’s side was still together, even if she had taken his pillow to provide some comfort for herself.

She went about her breakfast routine, but was quickly sent to vomit when she smelled the eggs and bacon she had prepared. Coming out, nothing looked amiss, and she set about making toast. Toast would be safe to eat.

An executive decision was made for her, by her, to stay in for the day. She could afford a day off with the evening she had. A lot of her time was spent reading, or staring at the door. As much as she did not like him right now, she still loved her husband and wanted him by her side. The notification came through her pip-boy from the doctor about her ultrasound appointment today. It almost felt bittersweet. On one hand, she did not feel like inviting Norm to the appointment with how he was acting. But on the other hand,he was still her husband and the father of her child. He deserved the choice at least.

The forwarded message came across the gear that was on Norm’s arm, and he was shocked. After he ran away last night like a coward, he did not expect this from his wife. Norm saved the appointment onto his pip-boy for later use and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“You alright, son?” Hank asked of his boy, bringing over two mugs. The one with tea was set in front of the younger MacLean, while his dad drank his allotted amount of coffee.

“Just grappling my thoughts. She sent me a notification of a doctor’s appointment this evening, but I don’t even know if she really wants me there.” Norm admitted, fiddling with his hands underneath the table.

“If I remember one thing about your mother, is that during both of her pregnancies, her hormones made her a ball of emotions. You could say the grass was green and she would burst out crying.” Hank chuckled, and took another sip while his son just sat there.

“There was a time where she was so angry with me that I didn’t like the name that she picked for her top name for you, that I was kicked to the couch for two days.” This made Norm perk up.

“So what did you do? How did you fix things with her?” He asked, eager to hear the rest of the story.

“I went with her to your final ultrasound. Didn’t hold her hand or anything, but once we say you fully formed, she reached for my hand and said, ‘Norman, that’s what we’ll call him.’” His dad chuckled as he finished the story, and gained a sad look in his eyes.

“So what should I do?” Norm asked, finally taking a sip of his tea.

“If it were me, I’d go to the appointment. No matter how mad she is now, she’ll be worse if you miss that.” A timer dinged and as they looked for the source of the sound, they realized it was Norm’s pip-boy. Hs reminder for the appointment came up and he dashed out of the door without another word. Norm walked briskly to the doctor’s office, and tried not to run; no matter how much he wanted to.

By the time he got there, he saw her head dip into a room, that he somehow managed to catch. Norm saw her unzipping her vault suit, and rolling up her white shirt when he opened the door. He let out a breath that he did not realize he was holding and came over to help her.

“You came.” She stated, resting her hands on his face.

“I came.” He repeated, holding her body close to his in a crushing hug.

“I’m ready to be a dad.” Norm whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. It made her heart swell to hear those six little words come from his lips. The couple pulled away right as the doctor came in.

“Oh, hello Norm. Here to see the missus and the kiddo?” She spoke jovially, setting down her equipment to get started. Rubbing the cold gel on the mom-to-be’s belly, she held the wand against it to start looking inside. norm remained silent as he stared at the screen with a little black and white mage starting to emerge.

“There they are. That’s their leg, and arm. The beginnings of their head and organs and, oh wait. There’s their head. No, wait.” The doctor spent a minute looking intensely at the screen which freak the MacLean’s out just a little bit.

“Oh, okay. Not to worry.” She spoke finally.

“Why? What’s going on?” Mrs. Maclean was confused and concerned as she tried to sit up, only to be held down gently by her doctor.

“No, everything is okay. There are two heads. You’re having twins. Congratulations.” Once more, she held a happy tone as she went back to the screen. Yet again, Norm spoke without thinking it through.

“What did you say?”

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout imagine #fallout #norm maclean imagine #norman maclean x reader #norm maclean x reader #norman maclean x oc #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean

[gaycragula]

Can I ask a request if you are taking so, like poly! Soap and ghost with male reader where male reader is a another team leader, male reader's rank is higher than them being a Colonel.

So, it has been month where soap and ghost saw male reader because they were in mission after coming back they saw male reader wearing major uniform like male reader is promoted. so soap and ghost decide to give male reader a award. Smut please.

Congratulations, General

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Male Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish Warning: NSFW/18+ content under cut

Warning(s): Higher rank reader, double blow job, biting, poly relationship, semi-public sex in a conference room, overstimulation, safeword, multiple orgasms, threesome, old man knees, boot grinding brrrr, use of sir/general multiple times, Soap is the one in control Word Count: 3686 Account Navigation AO3 Link

Soap slapped your back as he passed behind you, laughing at the sound you made as he stopped at your side. Ghost came up on your other side, rubbing your lower back as they settled in their spots.

“You guys getting ready to go?” You ask, glancing up at Soap. 

“You jus’ can’t wait to get rid o’ us, can ya, Colonel?” Soap groans, leaning into you with a huff.

“Oh shut it,” you smile with a roll of your eyes as you pushed Soap off of you. “I wanted to say goodbye to you before you both left for however long.”

“At least a month,” Ghost chimes in, chuckling at the disappointed look you gave him. 

“We’ll be back before yah know it,” Soap reassures, pressing a short kiss to your temple. “You’ve got your own team to watch out for.”

You sighed quietly as you nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you to come back. I know I’m planned to be here awhile.”

“See? That’s the spirit,” Soap grins, pulling you into a hug. You heard Ghost let out a quiet laugh before he was hugging you as well, pressing the mouth of his mask against the top of your head. 

You’d seen them off plenty of times before. It wasn’t rare that your team was paired with the 141 for missions or what not. You watched as they took off and lingered in the hangar until their helicopter was out of sigh before you returned to the base. 

Ghost and Soap were in for a treat when they got back.

—---

It had been just over a month when they returned from their recon mission. Just about the average time it took. You normally would’ve been in the hangar to meet them but you’d gotten stuck in a meeting with a few captains of teams you were now ‘in charge’ of. You’d been spreading these teams where they were needed and it was taking longer than you would’ve preferred.

You’d thought everyone agreed on where to go and today would be the final discussion, but people were bringing up sudden worries. Frustration racked through you as you repeated yourself for the sixth time in that hour. One of the captains began speaking against you, again, and you rubbed the bridge of your nose as you sat back in your chair. Your uniform suddenly felt too stuffy and you were ready to explode right then. 

You didn’t miss the look of disdain the captain shot you as he spoke and you were quick to wave him away. “We’ll come back to this tomorrow. Tensions are high. We won’t get anywhere like this,” you sigh, capping the pen you’d been using. You stood up, your colleagues following suit. They saluted you before you dismissed them and soon it was just you in the meeting room.

You grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge in the room and held it against your head for a moment before sighing in relief. You sat back down in your chair and kicked your feet up, leaning as far back in the chair as you could without falling out of it. What a fucking shit show.

A knock at the door of the meeting room interrupted your thoughts as you glanced towards the door. “Price,” you hum, readjusting in your chair so you were facing the captain. “What brings you here?”

“You’ve got visitors, General,” Price answers, stepping inside to let Soap and Ghost in. You huffed at the use of your new title before standing up. 

“General?” Soap mumbles, glancing over at you. You assumed he was looking for the medal that came with a rank up. 

“Major General,” you nod with a small smile. 

“What? When?” Soap laughs, walking over to you and running the broad side of his finger over the medal once he found it. 

“Just after you guys left,” you answer. Ghost appeared next to Soap, eyeing the medal for a moment. 

Price had left the room a while ago. You’d heard the door click close behind him and you’re sure no one would be back in anytime soon. It seems Ghost has noticed as well. 

“I think this is call for celebration,” he hums.

Soap hums in agreement and they both looked at you for permission. You let out a short laugh as you nodded. “Whatever you two see fit.”

—--

Both of them were on their knees in front of you. Your jacket had been laid over the back of one of the chairs leaving you in your white undershirt. Ghost had pushed your pants and boxers halfway down your thighs. 

Whatever you had in mind was certainly not what they had in mind. Your face felt hot as Soap jerked you off to get you hard. You were pressed against the conference room table, your hands flat on the table behind you. supporting you. “You okay?” Ghost asks, jerking you from your thoughts.

You nod, letting out a breath as Ghost pressed a kiss to your thigh, his mask pushed up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “I’m okay,” you confirm. “Jus’ caught off guard.”

“Safeword?” Ghost asks. 

You nod. “Pickles?”

Soap chuckles, pressing a kiss to your thigh as he nods. “Pickles it is.” 

Ghost hummed against your thigh, his hands running over your flesh. Your hips jerked when he bit the inside of your thigh and you choked on a moan. You felt Soap press a kiss to the head of your cock, then Ghost’s mouth was at the base of your cock. 

If it weren’t for the fact that the two men were holding your legs, you’re sure your legs would’ve given out on you. Soap took you into his mouth, whatever he didn’t have in his mouth was being kissed, licked, rubbed, and sucked by Ghost. And by god was it good.

Your hand tangled in Soap’s mohawk and he moaned around you. The vibrations it caused made you shiver, your back arching away from the table. A whine tore through your throat as Ghost pressed a firm hand against your waist, pushing you back against the table. 

Soap’s tongue worked magic against you, swirling that sinful thing around your tip. It was then that you’d realized you’d gone the whole time they were gone without getting off. You warned them as such. If anything, it made them move faster, more intentional. 

You were so close already, your breaths coming out as gasps as their mouths moved along your length. Your hips were held in place by Ghost, preventing you from rutting into the warmth of either of their mouths. “Please, please please please,” you pant, begging as you try to overpower the hand. 

Soap gave an amused hum and the vibrations sent you over the edge. 

“Coming,” you gasp. Ghost backed off enough for Soap to force you down his throat, audibly swallowing your spend with a moan. He pulled off of you and you could see the surprise in both of their eyes. You were still achingly hard.

Ghost nudged Soap, the Scotsman standing up and pulling you into a kiss. He swallows the sinful moan you let out as Ghost takes you fully into his mouth. You feel yourself slip down his throat and you curse as he swallows around it.

The overstimulation made you tear up as you pulled away from Soap. Your teeth gritted together, your chest heaving as you watch Ghost suck you off. Soap littered light kisses along your jaw before he was nosing your head to the side to get access to your neck. You allow him to do so though you lose sight of Ghost in the process.

Ghost pulls off of your cock with a pop, a whine escaping you. “Move your foot,” Ghost says, lifting a leg enough for you to slide one of your boots under him. He lowers himself onto it, giving an experimental roll of his hips. “Thank you, sir,” he breathes, pulling you back into his mouth as he sets a slow pace for his hips.

You're shaking above him, sweat beading at your forehead as you try to keep yourself quiet, still aware of your very much public conference room. Soap’s nipping at your neck, one hand laced with yours on the table behind you, the other resting on your tummy just above your pelvis. 

“Can I bite you, sir?” Soap whispers, voice low and husky in your ear. It has your breath catching in your throat and your hips twitch against Ghost’s hand. The Brit growled as he pushed you harder against the table.

“Y’know the rules, Johnny,” you whisper back. They weren’t allowed to leave marks in noticeable places. You preferred they only marked up your legs. Somewhere you could easily cover.

He whined in response, pouting against you. “Jus’ this once?” He begs. You find it in you to roll your eyes.

“Jus’ this once,” you huff. They got away with marking your neck and chest more often than not. Teeth sank into your neck and you curse louder than you’d wanted to. Soap licks around the bite apologetically before grabbing your face and pulling you into a kiss that’s more tongue than anything. 

He licks over your lips, no hesitation to push his tongue into your mouth the moment you part them. His hips pressed into your side to alleviate some of the pressure on his cock. “Feel what you do t’me?” Soap growls against your lips. “General?”

Your knee gives out and you fall forward into Ghost who grunts in surprise. Soap presses a hand against your chest, using it to push you back upright. You manage an apology to Ghost who pats your thigh in response. 

Soap has that cocky little smile adorning his face as you regain your footing. “Like it when I call ya that?” He whispers, low and sultry, his lips ghosting over your cheek. He pushes his luck. “Like it when I call ya General?”

You can only nod, eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself getting close to your second orgasm. A shaky hand finds its way to the top of Ghost’s mask, simply resting on it for now. Ghost was rocking down on your boot hard. You could feel the outline of his cock even through your boot. 

You could hear Ghost letting out quiet moans around you and it drove you wild. “Si, I’m close,” you whisper, your head lolling forward for a moment before Soap was pulling it back up.

“Keep yer eyes on Si,” Soap grins, holding your head still as the both of you watch Ghost rut against your boot, your dick disappearing in his mouth. “Takes you s’well doesn’t he?”

Ghost looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes glossed over. “So well,” you nod. Soap’s hand joined yours on Ghost’s head and, much to your surprise, pushed Ghost all the way down your cock with a chuckle.

Ghost swallowed around you and you didn’t even have time to warn him as you folded over, coming down his throat. Your foot raised against his cock in the process and the extra pressure it gave him sent him over the edge. He came with a low growl against you before letting your cock slip from his mouth. 

Your cock was slick with saliva, a mix of it and precum dripping down onto the floor in front of you. “I’m soaked,” you sigh, melting against the table behind you as Ghost stands up. He wipes at the corner of his mouth where drool had gathered before he leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips, then turning to give Soap one as well.

For a moment, you think it’s done. Too soon. Soap presses against your hip again, a quiet whine slipping from his lips. “Let me fuck you, sir,” he begs, subtly grinding into your hip. You give an overexaggerated sigh before nodding.

“Go ‘head, Sergeant.”

Ghost chuckles, nudging you forward enough so he can jump up on the table behind you before pulling you up with him. Soap undoes one of your boots, letting it slip off your foot before pushing your pant leg down with it. You readjust yourself, giving Soap better access to your lower half.

Soap gets back on his knees, pulling you closer to the edge before his tongue lathed over your hole. You tensed at the feeling, cursing lowly as Soap started nipping at your thighs. One of Ghost’s hands intertwined with yours across your abdomen, the other rubbing circles into your waist in an attempt to help you relax.

Lips ghosted over your neck and you let out a sigh, baring the sensitive skin to the man behind you. Teeth nipped at your neck before they were sinking into the flesh. You arched away from him with a groan and you felt Ghost smile against you. “Always so good for us, General,” he whispers and you choke on your breath, your dick jumping in interest against your abdomen. 

Soap chuckles from his spot between your legs. “You don’t react this way when everyone calls you general, right?” He teases. 

You huff, “If you want to fuck me, I say you best watch your mouth, Sergeant.”

You pick up the faintest whimper from Soap before he’s lapping at your hole again. You jerk again at the feeling before Ghost is whispering sweet nothings to you, your body relaxing back against him.

His tongue works magic around your cock and it’s no different when he pushes the muscle into you. Your thighs twitch as you let out a low groan, letting your head fall back against Ghost’s shoulder. The Brit busied himself kissing down your jaw, pulling you into short kisses every few moments. 

Soap’s tongue worked you open expertly, his hands digging into the flesh of your thigh to keep your legs from squeezing shut around his head. He added a finger to the mess, bringing a hiss from you at the feeling. Your boot gently connected with his head, a warning. “Warning next time, please.”

His apology is muffled. He didn’t even bother to take his tongue out of you. It brings a quiet chuckle from Ghost, muffled against your neck. Soap’s finger moved at a steady pace, opening you up for a second

A second finger presses against you before it was dipping in with the first. You thanked him, rolling your hips down to grind against his fingers and, subsequently, his face. His fingers went back and forth between crooking into that bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars and scissoring you open. 

You sucked in a breath as a third finger was added. The stretch was unpleasant to say the least. Soap pulled his tongue out, standing up to lean over you. His fingers stilled in you, waiting for you to adjust to them and give him to go ahead to move.

You took a shaky breath in, shifting your hips to test the waters. Even with his spit practically drenching your hole, it took a while for your breathing to return to normal and the pain of the stretch dull. 

“Go ahead,” you nod, moaning as Soap crooks his fingers, just barely missing your prostate. “Prick.”

Soap quirked his eyebrow at you before he pressed himself right against you, his lips just barely brushing over yours. You felt your lip quiver as you kept eye contact with him. A moment of weakness maybe, “Your eyes are gorgeous,” you whisper. 

The smirk he had on his face turned to confusion before a blush formed on his face and he buried his face into your neck. Ghost laughed above you, nudging you up to pull you into a kiss while Soap tried to busy himself stretching you open. He pressed his fingers against your prostate, massaging it until you were clenching down on him with another warning.

His fingers left you empty and you whined against Ghost at the loss. You heard Soap rummaging through his pockets before he pulled a small packet of lube out. “Bastard, you had some the whole time,” you growl, pressing the heel of your boot into his thigh.

“Forgot?” Soap smiles as he pulls your leg back over his hip before undoing his pants enough to pull his cock out.

“As if,” Ghost huffs behind you and you chuckle quietly in response. You lean into him, watching as Soap tears open the lube packet and spreads the contents over his cock. 

Soap lines himself up, one hand pressed against your thigh while the other held his cock steady. He looks up at you and you nod, squeezing Ghost’s hand to brace yourself. 

His tip breached your rim and you keened, legs trying to close around Soap’s waist. Soap cursed, low and gravelly as he slowly inched his way inside of you, stopping whenever you tensed or showed any signs of discomfort. 

You almost sobbed in relief as he bottomed out. Your thighs were twitching almost non-stop and you were having to let breaths out through your mouth. “Ya weren’t lyin’ when ya said ya’d not gotten off,” Soap pants. “Yer tight as all hell.”

You scoff in response, shifting your hips in an attempt to find a comfortable position. A moan racked through your body as Soap’s cock reangled and brushed against your sweet spot. “Oh shit. Right there, Johnny,” you whisper. He simply nods in response, pulling out slowly until just his tip was in before pushing back in at the same pace.

Moans left both of you at the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut. Soap kept that slow pace longer than you appreciated, keeping it going long after you were begging for him to speed up. You clawed at his shoulder with your free hand, guaranteed to leave pretty red marks that you’re positive someone is going to ask about.

Soap pulls you into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth as he picks up the pace, his balls slapping your ass with every thrust in. There’s a strand of saliva connecting the two of you as he pulls back but he’s quick to reach over your shoulder and pull Ghost into a similar kiss.

You busy yourself kissing over Soap’s neck, smiling to yourself before biting just below his jawline. You hear the muffled moan he lets out into Ghost’s mouth and then you’re sucking a mark into the bite. You lean back to admire the mark as Ghost and Soap separate, both panting right next to your ear. 

The sound has you reeling, your dick leaking a sizable glob of precum on the fabric of your shirt. Soap’s hips stutter and you know what’s coming. You move to jerk yourself off but Ghost beats you to it. His hand wraps around the base of your dick and it has you arching away from him with a low moan. 

He jerks you in time with Soap’s thrusts, whispering in your ear the whole time. You’re not able to make much through your pleasurable haze except for the occasional ‘General’ and ‘sir’ he throws in there. It has your heart pumping out of your chest, your inside twitching every time. 

“Can I cum in ya? Ohhh please, sir, please lemme cum in ya,” Soap babbles, leaning in to press his forehead against your neck, his sweat mixing with yours as it drips down your neck. It’s always amazed you how he’s able to switch like that when he’s inside either one of you.

You run your hand through his mohawk, grabbing a handful of his hair to pull him back so you can make eye contact with him. “Do you deserve it, Sergeant?” You growl and you see his pupils blow out even more, if that was even possible at that moment.

“I deserve it. Been good, right LT?” He’s rutting into you like a dog, trying to put off his orgasm as long as he can. 

Ghost hums like he’s thinking before he’s pulling you into a slow kiss, the hand on your dick slowing to the same pace. One that goes on for a beat too long with Soap’s whining and begging. “I think he’s earned it.”

You can almost see Soap light up as you give him the go ahead and he gives you a few more hard thrusts before he’s burying himself in you with a whine as he comes. You can feel him fill you up and you’re sure when he pulls out, you’ll be dripping. Ghost brings you to your third release not long after.

You pant as you practically melt into Ghost, using his body to fully support yours. Soap rests his head on your chest as he comes down from his high, hissing as he pulls himself free from you. “Congratulations, General,” he whispers.

You hum, pulling him up to give him a short kiss. “You jus’ wanted an excuse to fuck me.”

Soap chuckles at the accusation, looking at you with those damned puppy eyes. You groan playfully, pushing Soap away from you. “You and those damned eyes.”

Ghost cups your face, pulling you into another kiss before he’s nudging you forward and off the table. You almost stumble forward, Soap catching you as your legs give out below you. Your legs were still shaking and you realized you wouldn’t be getting far without help. “Si, can you carry me to my room?” You groan as Soap redresses you. “Needa shower.”

“Mind if we join you?” Ghost asks, pulling your arm over his shoulder to support your weight. 

“Not at all. I know you need to change for sure,” you tease, nodding down to the dark spot on the front of his pants. You hear him let out a huff of amusement before he was hobbling with you to the doorway. “C’mon Johnny. You comin’ with?”

Soap grabs your jacket off the chair it was draped over before joining the two of you. “Course I am. I’ll never turn down a shower with you two.”

#soap x male reader #ghost x male reader #ghost x male reader x soap #x reader #x male reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #ghoap #poly relationship #ghostsoap x reader #ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #ghostsoap x male reader #smut #bottom reader

[homeofatlas]

Maybe We're Both Chasing Ghosts

Summary: You and Elisa break up and long for each other.

Auhors note: yall i know i said i was gonna write the other one first..........im so sorry, hope ur in the mood for some angst tho

WC: 2k

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Letting go has never been easy for you. You never learned how to give up, concede, or when it was time to let something go. Especially when someone is the love of your life. 

You’re going crazy. Plain and simple you’ve started seeing things. The side table lamp Elisa always used to have on in the living room when she was up late is on when it’s just you in the apartment, her figure walking around the corner, the smell of her as you walk past the door to the balcony. Everything you do reminds you of when she was here. Everywhere you go there's a woman with the same colour hair or skin tone and there’s a colleague who’s expression reminds you of the way Elisas brows furrowed when she was confused. It all makes your stomach hurt to look at and yet you never look away. You’ll hurt as long as you get a chance to see a part her again. 

You know Elisa was doing what she thought was best for both of you. The constant near misses with communication. How far apart you always felt even when you were right next to each other. The stretches you’d go without talking and when you did it felt forced and stilted. Nothing like the beginning when the silence had been because you both were quieter people and enjoyed simply basking in each other's presence. There were times when it had felt like you almost had what you used to have back before it would slip away again. The silences which would drag out seconds too long. 

Maybe it started when you felt like you were overwhelming her, maybe it started when she stopped looking for you first in a crowded room, maybe it was over the second you were finally comfortable. It seems to be a running theme in your life, “Nothing gold can ever stay.” What you won’t admit to as a non religious person is the day before she told you it was for the better to walk away, you asked the moon to keep her. I’ll do anything, just let me keep her. You pleaded and yet no one listened. 

She’s your best friend even though you haven't spoken in months. Three months, two weeks and four days if you were counting. She knows you inside and out, from the food you don’t like to how you appreciate actions more than words. What gets you is the way she knew everything about you and you knew everything about her and none of it was enough to prevent this. 

As the winter months begin to creep in and the wind nips at your cheeks again you feel the weight of her absence more than ever. You never realised you’d become conditioned to having an arm slung around your shoulder until the first time you shivered in a group of friends and a weight hadn’t overcome you to pull you into her side. When you’d been cold and no one had grabbed your hands to warm them up and kissed either side of your cheeks to make you smile and blush. Something in you had felt incomplete without nagging Elisa to put on an extra sweater as you went out because it’ll be cold and you are only human no matter what you say about being super hot Elisa. The way you’d looked up the hall to see whether or not she was coming and then remembered no one was there and there hadn’t been for a while. 

Her ghost hangs heavy in the side of the couch she always used to lay on with the pillow she liked and in the weight of the pan she used to cook almost every meal (the handle feels different like it’s been melded to her hand exactly). Since she left you’ve been missing a part of you. Date your best friend, they say, it’ll be amazing. It was, you wouldn’t give a second of it for anything but this type of pain makes you understand why they call it heartbreak. You feel as though you’ve been split in two and are missing a limb. You’d never been a child who’d cried for their parents and when you’d moved to Europe for schooling you’d never looked back but now at 26 you were learning what it felt like to be home sick. 

Elisa pov:

She’d fucked up. She didn’t know loneliness could be so all encompassing. She’s tried to fill her days with training and exercise and then going out with friends and calling her family “just because she wants to talk.” All of it is to keep her from stopping and thinking about you. The way she’s become less of a whole while still being one person. Half of her is missing. She can’t explain it without sounding like she’s co dependant but she couldn’t tell where she ended and you began. 

Something is missing. 

Scratch that. 

Everything is missing. 

A part of her is empty. 

And she knows she’s got no one to blame but herself. Instead of talking to you, she’d decided the connection you’d had was too good to be true. Of course it was, how can something so romantic exist in real life? It doesn’t. Except it does, the little voice in her heart whispers, you had it. She’d seen it, she’d felt it, she’d tasted it. Had it in the palm of her hand and let it slip away. 

The ache is eating away at her. A dull pulsing in her head constantly, she keeps herself exhausted to the point of falling straight into bed when she gets back to her apartment. It’s hard to call it home anymore without your perfume lingering in the air anymore. Your chapsticks stashed in various drawers through the apartment are gone. All the lights are off when she comes back. The place is empty. She’s empty. 

She’d taken down all the photos and traces of you left around and put them in a box hoping it would help her heal faster. All it does is test her willpower to not empty the tubes of chapstick trying to touch something your lips have been on. No matter what she does, the quiet keeps creeping in. She can’t outrun the itch beneath her skin. The ache in her bones that never seems to fade. The feeling in her gut screaming something isn’t right. The quiet used to be her sanctuary now it’s suffocating without you to smile at her from across a room or squeeze her shoulder as you pass by. 

She simultaneously feels invisible and like she sticks out like a sore thumb in every room she’s in. She’s not meant to be there. She’s meant to be next to you. But now you’re standing on the other side of the change room laughing at a joke she hasn’t heard, hasn’t told and something in her is coiling. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen when it snaps. 

Jackie is helping you put your necklace back on and it shouldn’t bug her but it does. She’s hot and this room is too small. She knows it’s not like that but when Jackie brushes your hair to one side, a tad unnecessary if she gets a say, she has to tear her gaze away. Putting your necklaces back on after practice used to be her job. The small moment of quiet intimacy is what she’d wait all day for. When it felt like nothing else in your relationship was working, she’d always had that at the end of the day. Her fingers brushing the nape of your neck, the brush of your hair to your side, a smile creeping onto her face. If no one else was in the room she’d kiss the back of your neck and wrap her arms around you from behind. You’d stand there basking in each other's presence until you were ready to let go. 

She’s fuming someone has taken her place, although not really and if someone has taken her place as your partner, her stomachs turns and she might be sick at the thought. A small voice calls out within her, be gentle with her. 

She needs to get out of here asap. She’ll call her mom on the drive home, then go for a run, then pick up groceries when she gets back, she should really call her brother soon and see what he’s been working on lately, maybe there's a game on tonight she can catch- anything to keep her from thinking about you and this and how she’s fucked up. 

Cause here’s the thing, even when you’d stopped texting her when you got home and when slowly less and less clothes of yours were appearing in her laundry, you’d never stopped being in sync on the pitch. Always anticipating the others' moves before she did it herself. It was infuriating to know you almost had it all. That’s what happens when you know everything about a person, every habit, every movement, she knows she could pick you out of a room of people just by how you breathe. 

By the time she gets home from her post practice run she’s too tired to make dinner. She’ll order it in, making a deal with herself that she’ll walk to go pick it up. One of the things that most endeared her to you in the beginning was the willingness to break your nutrition plans laid out by the staff. Technically you were allowed to eat what you wanted but some foods were heavily discouraged. Such as pasta with a ton of carbs and no vegetables, which happened to be your favourite meal. 

Slipping her shoes on and beginning the walk down to the italian place you loved to have date nights in she remembers all the times you'd made the walk together. She tries to not think about you and keep herself busy. The key word is tries because about 95% of the time she fails at it. A part of her hopes she’ll walk in to pick up her order and you’ll be there too. Hearts, stomachs, and feet falling in sync together once more. Please, she turns her eyes upward, let me get what I want this once. 

Despite her quick checks around the restaurant and toward the bathroom and her dragging out the process longer than she needs to just in case you showed up, she resigns herself to a life of loneliness. Lost her thoughts she pulls the door open as someone pushes in and they stumble into her. 

“Oh my god i’m so sorry-”

Your eyes turn upwards and meet hers. You both suck in sharp breaths chests in sync as they push against each other. Your eyes lock and the tension is almost unbearable but pretending like you don’t know each other is the most unbearable thing that could happen. Her hand, which came up to stabilise you, rests on your arm. Her thumb twitches to flick up and rub soothing circles right below your bicep. 

If she gets a second chance she’s thinking now might be the time to act on it. She lets herself relax and smile at you, she can instantly feel the sigh of relief. 

“Pretty sure this isn’t on your diet plan” She teases. 

You smile challengingly up at her, “Pretty sure it isn’t on yours either.”

Your smiles are growing bigger by the second. 

“Well,” She whispers and leans closer to you, dropping her voice to an octave where she knows only you’ll be able to hear her. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

She knows what speaking low in a crowded room does to you, it’s no surprise when she feels you shiver against her. She wraps her hand around her bicep now, rubbing your arm up and down as if she’s heating you up, all an excuse to touch you again. 

You lean in conspiratorially, “Okay your secrets safe with me.” Nodding to sell the act. 

You both stand and stare because what are the chances? Maybe, you both think, I don't have to keep chasing your ghost. 

#élisa de almeida #woso #elisa de almeida x reader #elisa de almeida #woso x reader #yall the others ones in progress #crossing my fingers i can finish it for next week