#I have an out if I need it enough but. I never like to call
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Them after especially rough ykyk
Slytherin boys x reader (hcanons, aged up to 18 years old)
Warnings: soft smut, 16+ I’d say (?), on my shit again after a long time I’m sorry, no Draco and idc if he’s the original slytherin boy, go on Wattpad if you want Draco bc there’s enough of him on there /jk but not rlly
Theodore Nott:
you’d be incredibly flushed afterwards, panting and still holding onto the sheets for dear life
your eyes closed, lips swollen and slightly hanging open, trying to get yourself down from your high
he’d immediately hover over you (still undressed, only in boxers), both his arms on your side to support himself
“fucked you a little too good, didn’t I?”, he’d cockily ask and he’d just gently stroke your flushed cheeks with his thumb
you would counter, but your throat felt too hoarse from all the obscene noises he had coaxed out of you
“c’mon let’s get you cleaned up, you did so well for me”/“you are always so good for me, my perfect girl” he’d praise you, knowing you would let him do it all over again just for him to call you his good girl
Tom Riddle:
with Tom it’s never soft, bu when you have a especially rough session with him, it is rough
afterwards you’d most likely still be tied up by your wrists, or facing downward with your face on a pillow, insides feeling twisted and hypersensitive
you would barely be able to move and especially your legs would be quivering if you tried to get up
Tom definitely knows when you’ve reached your limits, but sometimes he actively pushes those to remind you of your place, you are there for his pleasure
He isn’t the praise type, but he’d quietly clean up and allow you to cuddle him, but only if he felt completely fulfilled
Matthew Riddle:
usually it’s a mix of rough and soft with him, but both of you need those rough sessions sometimes for a complete stress release
afterwards he’d worship you from top to bottom, leaving soft kisses from your jaw to your stomach
he’d rub over all the hickeys he left, the bruised spots and your plump (fuvked out) lips of course
while stroking your hair he would tell you how much he loved you and how amazing it was with you
he’d help you get up and go to the shower, having a soft make out session in there of course, and afterwards do whatever you wanted
mostly it’d just be cuddling or talking
Blaise Zabini:
knowing that you didn’t use your safe word, he’d still ask if you were alright
after making sure, and checking up on you he’d make you sit up and sip some water (somehow he’d always insists that)
“you think you can handle one more?”, he’d jokingly ask to make you smile after having made you (s)cream
he’d want to discuss what went well and what could be improved upon, to fuck you even better next time
although that sounds like a joke, he means it fully
when you tell him that he couldn’t possibly make you feel better, or how good he is, he just smirks, knowing no one could do what he does
Lorenzo Berkshire:
he’d totally tease you so much, especially if you begged for him to go rougher
“I knew my princess liked it rough”/“just needed someone to fuck you into your place didn’t you”/“look at you, all fucked out like some slut, and enjoying it too”
of course he’d make sure you were alright too, asking whether he went too hard
“it’s hard to control myself when it comes to you y’know”, he’d seductively murmur in his deep voice, while caressing your body
after being especially rough, he would want to be the perfect boyfriend the entire week, attending to your every wish; basically golden retriever behavior
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#harry potter oneshot#slytherin boys fanfiction#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#tom riddle#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#blaise zabini x you#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini#lorenzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x you#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#tom riddle smut#mattheo riddle smut#theodore nott smut#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys react
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The Doll House | Lee Heeseung
doll!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), pure filth, dom!hee, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m&f. rec), clit biting, throat fucking, cock worshipping, doggy, pussy stepping, spanking, squirting, slight degradation and choking, pet names (baby), supernatural elements, religious themes (heaven/hell), anything else lmk!
wc: 16.8k
synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and opens your eyes to a world you never knew was possible.
jongseong | masterlist |
a/n: hi! it's officially the end of tdh! i need to put a massive thank you out to @haechonly as this entire series would never have been possible without their request! you are a star in my eyes and i can't ever thank you enough for trusting me to write this! i also want to thank everyone who took the time to read each chapter and leave comments or asks, i love you indefinitely <3 i hope the ending leaves you all satisfied and all your questions answered! as always, likes, reblogs, feeback, and everything in between is welcomed :)
Folding the laundry, you glance over at the calendar on the day of your leave circled in red. There are only 2 weeks left until you finish up and you’re more than sad about it. Your heart aches every time you sleep because you know that you’re one day closer to returning to normality when you wake up.
The thought alone is overwhelming - how can you possibly contemplate returning to a life you loathe when you've uncovered a paradise here? In the company of Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and Jongseong, each fulfilling a unique role in your existence, you've found a sense of completeness that you fear will escape you once you leave.
You're so fond of the dolls that you're willing to overlook the horrifying underworld that lurks in the library's secret room. You’ve learned that if you pay it no mind, it can’t touch you. Jongseong has reassured you time and time again that you need not worry about it, and you trust him, so you faithfully follow his guidance.
Jongseong has hardly explained anything, only that yes it was hell that lives in the flames but it’s more like a telephone than a portal - a cryptic analogy that only serves to fuel your curiosity - but he just keeps repeating himself time and time again: “Talk to Heeseung.”
Which would be fine if the doll ever gave you the time of day. He knows you know about them now so there’s no reason for him not to speak with you, yet he hardly utters a word, not even a simple thank you when you serve him dinner or excuse me when he bumps into you. He’s not avoiding you but ignoring you and for some reason that makes it worse. All you get from Heeseung is knowing stares and a sly smile plastered on his face.
You know he’s dangerous, Jongseong and Sunghoon are good at making you very aware of that, even his aura is enough to know that you shouldn’t mess with him, but their warnings about his inherent danger reverberate in your head, their evident readiness to give you to his care and seek answers calls into question his malevolence.
Jongseong said he doesn’t want to see your face when you find out, making you even more curious and it cannot be curbed until you get answers.
Grabbing the washing basket, you put the neatly folded clothes inside and make your way to drop them off outside each of the respective dolls’ rooms. They are off doing their own thing, even Jaeyun, who is typically tethered to your side, is engrossed in playing football with Jongseong, seemingly oblivious to your brief departure.
There was something Jongseong said to you over the past week that you can’t shake out of your head. He observed how close you and Jaeyun are, and how attached the younger doll has become to you. It’s not so much the observation as much as how he eyes the both of you now; there’s a knowingness in his pupils, like he’s keeping another secret from you, but you can’t figure out what.
It’s obvious you and Jaeyun get along well, each of you loving to spend time with one another and waste the day away; as long as you’re together, that’s all that matters. You confided in Jongseong, telling him that whatever Jaeyun is feeling, whether happy or sorrowful, you feel it too. It's a connection so profound that only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend its depth.
Regret gnaws at you for telling Jongseong, for since then, his scrutiny has only intensified, leaving you to wonder what his meaningful gaze truly means.
You head towards Heeseung's room, initially planning to leave his clothes outside as per the rulebook. However, your rebellious streak, which has persisted almost since you got here, urges you otherwise. The last time you saw Heeseung was in the music room, practising the piano, so he isn’t around, leaving you the perfect opportunity to snoop.
If he isn’t giving you answers, maybe his room will.
Placing the basket on your hip, you open his door tentatively, scared to see what is on the other side. You’ve been in his room before but now that you’re delving into its nooks and crannies, you can’t help but feel some apprehension. This is new territory and with warnings about his character, you know if you’re caught, you are fucked.
His room is dull, his curtains remaining shut despite the summer weather outside. Come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen him sit out the front with the others, only ever being in their presence when he has to be. Sunghoon and Heeseung have a camaraderie, their personalities are woven from the same cloth, so you know they are close in some way. You’ve seen them sharing secrets and memories of their past but it’s always in hushed whispers, not letting anyone in on their fun.
Yet, when it comes to Jongseong, a noticeable distance lingers between them. Though their interactions remain civil, their friendship feels distant. Despite this, Jongseong's occasional defence of Heeseung hints at an underlying care between them, though you can't help but feel that there's more to their dynamic than meets the eye. You have enough mysteries in this house other than feuding brothers, so you’ve not given it much thought.
You set the basket down on the ottoman nestled at the foot of his bed, casting a quick glance around the room to assess your surroundings before delving into your impromptu snoop sesh.
Your gaze drifts to his dressing table, its surface gathering dust and bereft of any adornments. It's a stark contrast to the other dolls' rooms, each of them cluttered with their interests and personalities. With a curious tilt of your head, you step closer, it's as if Heeseung deliberately keeps his space devoid of any semblance of identity or sentimentality. The only thing adorning the furniture is a scatter of dead flies that you turn your nose up to.
Jongseong had said Heeseung had been here for 8 years, surely that would warrant some decoration; even one book would be enough.
As your exploration continues, you come across a worn and torn box tucked away in the corner of the room. Kneeling down, you run your fingers over it, noticing how it’s the only thing devoid of dust in the room. Curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid, revealing a trove of forgotten treasures within.
Among the assortment of photographs, you come across snapshots capturing moments between Soonyeol and Heeseung. There is one photo of Soonyeol and Heeseung which she clearly forced him to be in, her cheek pressed hard against his and a smile on her face. Although it is a picture, you can feel her love for him emanating.
Setting aside the photograph with care, your attention is drawn to another picture, this time commemorating Soonyeol's birthday. The scene is more recent, with Jaeyun's radiant smile serving as a focal point. His embrace of the birthday girl evokes a pang of envy within you, swiftly tempered by the reminder that he belongs to Soonyeol.
"Hmm, she’s 28," you remark, noting the candles donning the birthday cake in the photograph. You could have sworn she was the same age as you; maybe it’s her skincare cupboard you should be raiding through.
Nestled among the keepsakes is a handwritten note, its edges yellowed with age. As you unfold it, the scrawl of Soonyeol's handwriting greets your eyes. The heartfelt words penned on the paper speak of cherished moments and promises of eternal love for Heeseung, her words of gratitude for saving her.
You can't help but wonder what drove Heeseung to save Soonyeol. If Heeseung is indeed this elusive big bad wolf, it begs the question: why would he ever come to someone's rescue?
"What are you doing?" A low voice reverberates through the cold walls, jolting you from your exploration. Startled, you scramble to restore everything to its place, your heart pounding with fear as you hastily rise to your feet, meeting Heeseung's gaze with wide-eyed apprehension.
Heeseung stands before you, arms crossed and a frown etched across his features. His expression speaks volumes, conveying a mix of irritation and suspicion at your intrusion into his private space. You can't fault him for his reaction; after all, he just caught you looking through his personal belongings that clearly no one but him is meant to see.
Hurriedly, you retreat to the safety of the laundry basket, clutching it as if it were a shield against his disapproval, "Sorry, Heeseung," you stammer, offering a feeble explanation for your presence, "I-I was just putting your laundry away."
Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he assesses your explanation. The silence between you stretches taut, punctuated only by the distant hum of the house.
After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung finally speaks, his voice cool and measured, "You know the rules, Y/N, leave it outside," he admonishes, his tone firm.
"Sorry, Heeseung," you murmur, bowing your head as his reprimand sinks in. Your body feels clammy with sweat, a lump forming in your throat, and your heart pounding erratically. It's unnerving to be alone with him for the first time, leaving you feeling timid and inferior in his presence.
Heeseung strides further into the room, his figure imposing as he sets about restoring the box you disrupted, methodically arranging his treasures back into order. As you watch his back, uncertainty gnaws at you, weighing your options for the next move. You're aware that he expects you to leave, and perhaps you should for your own sake. Yet, this unexpected encounter presents an opportunity you've been yearning for - a chance to pose the questions that Jongseong has been evading.
"You're not like the other 3, are you?" you venture timidly, hoping to broach the subject without eliciting a harsh response from him.
Heeseung straightens up, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows arching in surprise at your question. "What? Because I haven't fucked you, is that what you mean?" His tone drips with disdain at your observation, his words sharp and cutting.
"No, it's not that," you hurriedly clarify, sensing his hostility, "It's just...your aura, it's different," you explain despite struggling to put your thoughts into words.
Heeseung's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at your unexpected comment. "Different? How so?" he asks, curiosity replacing the initial edge of hostility.
You take a cautious step forward, emboldened by his slightly less defensive demeanour, "It's hard to explain," you admit, searching for the right words to articulate the subtle but distinct quality that sets him apart. "It's like... there's a depth to you, something...darker," you struggle to find the right description, hoping he'll understand that you aren’t trying to call him evil, even if that is what you are eluding to.
Tilting his head, Heeseung starts to smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He licks the side of his mouth casually before speaking, his tone teasing, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"
You don’t, that’s quite obviously the issue you’re having. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes because fuck whatever would come from that. So instead, you settle for shaking your head, hoping he will elaborate of his own accord.
The curiosity is evident on his face as he steps forward slightly, “You mean to tell me you’ve been here almost 2 months, fucked each of my brothers more times than I can count, and you still don’t know who we are?”
Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Heeseung's blunt question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It’s not through lack of trying, you have turned over every book, looked on every shelf, and bobby pinned your way into locks, yet you’re still in the dark.
Your silence only seems to fuel Heeseung's wicked merriment, his smirk widening into a sharp grin as he peers straight through you. "I really thought Jongseong would have caved by now. God knows how he really does love to paint himself as still a saint."
Drawing in a deep breath, Heeseung prepares to reveal the truth you've been longing to uncover. Your body stills as you realise this is finally it, everything you’ve been wanting, no, needing to know - he is about to let you in.
"We're from all over heaven and hell," he explains, his voice tinged with amusement that was targeted at your now shocked expression, "angels and demons, Baby, that’s what we are."
As his words sink in, you find yourself ensnared in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. Angels and demons? The implications of such a revelation send a shiver down your spine.
Of course, they weren't human, you knew that much, but how can they be otherworldly beings straight out of myths, the kind you only hear about in churches and Supernatural episodes? The concept is difficult to fully process, leaving you grappling with a reality that feels more like a dream - or perhaps a nightmare. You would have been much more settled if they were the ghosts of those who lived here previously - this being one of the many guesses you made about their lives.
You've grown to adore the dolls, cherishing their presence above all else. But the newfound knowledge that some of them are demons sends a chill down your spine, casting a shadow of unease over your once-idyllic existence.
Sensing your need for clarity, Heeseung's voice breaks through the tumult of your thoughts. "Who do you want to know about first?" he inquires as his eyebrows raise, "I think it's only right that we start with your little angel, hmmm?"
Jaeyun.
Nodding, you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say.
“You’ll be glad to know, your lover boy is an angel,” he starts to explain and you already feel a relief wash over you. If Jaeyun was an evil spirit, that would have destroyed any perception you had of him, leaving you to question the authenticity of the connection you share; the idea that he could have manipulated you would hurt your soul more than you’d like to admit.
You see Heeseung weigh up his next words, “Well…not quite, he should have been but I stopped that from happening,” he confesses, feigning remorse for his doings, “He was actually meant to be a guardian angel. When he died in an accident, his soul was so pure he was handpicked to be someone's personal dove boy.”
“Wait, what do you mean you stopped it?” you ask almost immediately, your curiosity outweighing any other emotion as he speaks.
"He was wandering the veil, the in-between of life and death, waiting to be guided to heaven when I heard him crying out, confused and scared. He died too soon, but that greedy fuck up the stairs clearly couldn’t let him just live out his life the way he wanted to."
There’s anger in his voice as he speaks; it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about God. You’ve always been taught that there is a plan for everyone, that no matter what happens, it’s the right path. Clearly, Heeseung doesn’t share the same outlook.
“So I answered his call and guided him to Soonyeol and the rest of us. Jaeyun only wanted to be loved and cherished his whole life, that was his dream, and I granted it in exchange for his memories,” he sees you poised with another question, but he stops you, raising a hand to silence you, “If you’re going to ask why I did that, it’s because he wouldn’t have coped otherwise, and he would have looked at us in anger rather than love.”
You have so many new questions, but as you go to speak, you can’t. Your mouth is dry, and your throat holds back a sob. You feel awful as you think about Jaeyun being scared after death, calling out for help, and in the end being stripped of his memories. Heeseung is acting as if he did him a favour - and in some way, he has - but he has also torn him away from his path.
As you struggle to find the right words to express your thoughts, Heeseung's gaze softens if only slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I know it's a lot to take in," he offers gently, his tone devoid of its usual edge, "But trust me when I say that Jaeyun is happier here than he ever was in his old life, and certainly more than he would be as a guardian. Soonyeol needed someone to look after and that’s all he has ever wanted; It’s a win-win.”
“So this was all for Soonyeol? Be honest with me,” you ask, picking up on his last sentence.
With a definitive nod, Heeseung doesn't deny your observation, "Everything that I have done is for her."
That piques your interest and the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place, “Does that mean you did the same with the others? You brought them here for Soonyeol’s benefit?”
He lets out a heavy exhale, his demeanour shifting as he crosses his arms. “You make it sound like I've wronged Jaeyun,” he counters, any trace of understanding vanishing as his cold manner returns to the forefront.
You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but you can’t help but call a spade a spade. Heaven is deemed difficult to enter - what with all the rules and hail mary’s - so for Jaeyun to be seen as holy enough to become someone’s guardian angel was a privilege he should have been able to experience.
Mirroring his posture, you cross your arms, a silent declaration of your determination. It might be foolish to stand toe to toe with him, considering his power to manipulate Jaeyun's memories and drag him to Earth, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness.
Heeseung grins, genuinely amused by your stance. He's impressed by your resolve, having pegged you for someone who would flee at the mere mention of demons. "You've got some backbone," Heeseung remarks, his grin widening as he observes your defiance, "I like that."
His words catch you off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, you can't help but feel a small swell of pride at his unexpected approval.
“So? The others?”
“No, the others actually asked for my help, Sunghoon was practically crying out and begging to be saved from his cell in hell,” Heeseung explains as he reminisces about his first encounter with Sunghoon.
You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the revelation, “So he is a demon?” you mumble to yourself, looking down at the ground. Honestly, you should have known, he fucks you like he was part of the incubus club. Yet he is also so tender in his actions, he helps you out and makes sure you’re okay, gives you forehead kisses and aftercare - it doesn’t scream evil.
Clicking his fingers, Heeseung points them at you, a mischievous wink fluttering over to you, “Bingo. Sunghoon used to be a soldier, serving under one of the rulers in hell, Dis. The guy was made from remains of Lucifer, the Devil, whatever you want to call him, and because of that, he thought he was some big shot, ordering his soldiers to do horrific things, things even I wouldn’t do.”
You stand wide-eyed, taking in his words. You can't help but feel sorrow for Sunghoon, knowing how tormented he must have been in the depths of hell. It's an odd realisation to feel pity for a demon who you know must be bad enough to be prevented from entering Heaven.
"He couldn’t bear the torture anymore and he rebelled against Dis. Sunghoon has always despised authority; his only desire is to be in control, making him public enemy number one in the underworld. Ever been to jail in hell?" it's a rhetorical question because of course you haven’t, but you shake your head answering anyway. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sunghoon managed to contact me, pleading to do anything to escape. Hence, here he is.”
“What did he have to sacrifice? Or do you only make deals with angels?” you blurt out unintentionally, your distaste for Heeseung's methods bubbling to the surface.
“I’d watch that fucking tongue of yours before I tear it out and feed it to the dogs.”
Heeseung's threat hangs heavy in the air, his words laced with a chilling intensity that raises goosebumps over your body. You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you.
Clearing your throat, you attempt to steer the conversation back on track, knowing there is so much more to uncover, "I’m sorry, Heeseung," you say, your voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lingering within you, "I just want to understand.”
Heeseung appears satisfied with your apology, though his next words still carry a warning tone, “I heard a rumour you were a good girl. If you want to keep that reputation, I suggest you zip it.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, memories of your nights with Jongseong flooding your mind. You recalled the countless times he had called you his good girl, his perfect angel.
He continues, delving into the details of his arrangement with Sunghoon. "Sunghoon gave me his powers and his word," he explained, his tone taking on a grave seriousness, "I made it clear to him that he could have paradise with a girl who wanted some direction in her life, but if he ever laid an unwanted finger on her, I would hand his head to Dis myself."
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of the intricate power dynamics at play within the household, each member bound by their own set of rules and obligations.
“The only person he has to answer to is Soonyeol, an upgrade from being whipped and battered with iron chains, wouldn’t you say?” Heeseung steps closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of crimson, or maybe it's just your imagination. All this information must be taking its toll on you, the headache forming in your frontal lobe might be tricking your eyes.
Heeseung's piercing gaze bores into yours and you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised, as if he were sizing you up as his next potential victim. Despite the growing discomfort prickling at the back of your mind, you steeled yourself, maintaining a carefully constructed facade of composure to shield against falling for his traps.
“And Jongseong? He’s a demon too?” you inquire quietly.
“Baby, he’s the furthest thing from it. In fact, you must have some powers of your own to get him to fuck you,” Heeseung responds with a scoff, his laughter ringing with a hint of mockery. He shakes his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion of you and Jongseong together.
Heeseung's amusement fades into a knowing smile as he watches your face turn to confusion, "Jongseong is no demon, darling. He's a full-fledged guardian angel, just like Jaeyun was supposed to be," he explains, rendering you shocked.
Everything about Jongseong falls into place; how he's been looking after you from the very beginning, with his caring demeanour, always urging you to do what’s best, and his unwavering efforts to provide comfort and ease. It's just who he is.
As you reflect on Jongseong's constant care and support, a sense of gratitude washes over you. Jongseong has remained a steadfast presence, guiding you through the labyrinth of this otherworldly realm; he didn’t have to show you the altar or delve into how they were summoned, but he did to ease your mind, all the while shielding you from its evil secrets. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s that he was protecting you from the hell of it all.
But if he is a guardian angel, he is too good to be here with a demon and a lost soul.
“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be the guardian of his human or something-” Just as the sentence passes your lips, your mouth falls open, eyes popping out of your head as you answer your own question, “He is Soonyeol’s guardian angel, isn’t he?”
Heeseung smiles proudly and claps his hands once. "You are one smart cookie," he observes, his tone without sarcasm for once.
“Shouldn’t guardian angels be silent? Like a gut feeling?”
Heeseung answers you with a casual shrug, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, hence the doll costume. Actually…it's my fault he's stuck like that," he admits, his face scrunched up as he contemplates whether you will find his actions disconcerting or admirable. "Soonyeol wasn't listening to his pleas, she ignored her instinct, so he made himself visible - which by the way is a number one no-no up there,” he points out before continuing, “he wanted to warn her of the consequences of her actions. As a result, he lost his wings, God cut the tie between them and demoted him to a simple heaven walker. It was all quite a scandal.”
You don’t know what to say, how can you say anything when all you want to do is curse out everyone who had a part to play in Soonyeol and Jongseong’s parting?
“Then he tried to see her again, defying God and his stupid ‘disapproving actions have consequences’ bullshit. Jongseong was deemed to be sinful and therefore, poof,” Heeseung explains further, twinkling his fingers as if it were a cloud of smoke, “He was banished to heaven’s wasteland forever.”
Amusement that seems to dance in Heeseung's eyes feels wrong as if there's a sick happiness he derives from Jongseong's misery. You know angels and demons have never seen eye to eye but they are close enough to call one another ‘brother’, surely that has to stand for some sympathy?
Sensing your disapproval, Heeseung wipes the smile from his face, his demeanour turning cold. "Judge me all you want, Baby, but I helped him get her back," he asserts, his voice dripping with venom, "Without me, he wouldn't be near her." There's a bitter edge to his tone, a hint of resentment seeping through his words.
"God wanted Jongseong to never see her again, but I knew that would hurt her," he continues, his eyes flashing with intensity, "A guardian angel and their human have a bond that is stronger than any love you can even imagine, especially when they come into contact. He couldn’t live without her, his desperate longing ached so loud that’s all I could fucking hear for weeks. So I got him out of that heaven hole and brought him closer to her than he ever was."
The raw emotion in Heeseung's words sends a chill down your spine, his bitterness and resentment palpable in the air. You feel for Jongseong, caught in the crossfire of divine politics and human emotions. He only wanted to protect her and he got scolded for it, reprimanded for fulfilling his duty to her, that part is tripping you up the most. Well, that and one other thing.
"This is so confusing," you exclaim, rubbing your temples in frustration. "So it's your fault he's the doll because? Surely the real reason would be whatever he was trying to protect her from, the thing that caused him to show himself."
With a smirk, Heeseung nods, pointing to himself. "Yeah, that was me," he admits unabashedly, "She was summoning me."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Heeseung's admission. "She was summoning you?" you repeat, incredulous.
Heeseung nods, his smirk widening into a joyful grin. "Yep," he confirms, pride creeping into his tone. "She called, and I answered.”
The implications of Heeseung's revelation leave you speechless. Soonyeol's actions inadvertently set off a chain of events that ultimately led to Jongseong's downfall. It's a sobering reminder of the unpredictable nature of their world and the consequences of meddling with forces beyond control.
"Why you?" you finally manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung steps forward, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. His presence looms over you, casting a shadow of unease, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself," he says, bowing his head with a wicked grin, "I'm Heeseung, formally known as Beelzebub.
I'm a Prince of Hell."
The world spins groggily around you, your limbs going numb as the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You find yourself at a loss, grappling with the realisation that you've been living with none other than the Lord of the Flies himself.
Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, holds a position of immense power and authority in the underworld. As the third in command, he wields influence and dominion over legions of demons, surpassing even the mightiest of Archangels in strength and cunning.
Despite your limited knowledge of demonology, you understand enough to know that Beelzebub is not to be trifled with. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of humans and angels alike, a testament to his formidable reputation and malevolent nature.
As Heeseung's hand brushes against your cheek, a reflexive flinch courses through you. "Don't be scared of me now, Baby," he says, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. There's a hint of amusement in his tone as he relishes the unease he elicits from you, "I'm actually enjoying your questions. Go on, hit me with another one."
He is far too casual about this, then again, he has known of his identity forever so he has no reason to be startled.
You hesitate, unsure of what question to pose next. The revelation of Heeseung's true identity has left your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest, and palms sweaty. There’s no doubt he senses how your nerves are rattled, that smug look on his face says it all.
But you need answers so you compose yourself and pull up your big girl pants.
Gathering your thoughts, you finally muster the courage to speak, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Why did Soonyeol summon you?”
His facial expression shifts from smug to something softer, a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes as he reminisces about Soonyeol and their relationship. "She called me," he begins, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia, "A young girl who couldn’t find her place in the world. All she wanted was to be lifted from her toxic family and find the serenity she needed."
"And you granted her wish?" you prompt, eager to understand the dynamics of their relationship and the extent of Heeseung's influence over Soonyeol's life.
Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did, I gave her all of this," he confirms, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection as he gestures around him, speaking of the house and the dolls which live in it, "I offered her a way out, a chance to escape her past and forge a new destiny. And in return, she granted me her loyalty, devotion, and eventually, her soul."
The discovery of Soonyeol’s past leaves you reeling, your perception of her shifting in an instant. Here you were, thinking she was all-powerful and commanding, when in reality, she was just a scared girl in her twenties. The thought of what she must have endured, what drove her to call upon a demon for help, fills you with a profound sense of empathy and compassion.
If Heeseung granted Soonyeol her deepest desires, if he offered her a way out of her suffering, then what does that say about his own motivations? After all, as a Prince of Hell, he could have chosen to do whatever he pleased. Yet, he chose to stay loyal to Soonyeol.
Then, just like that, it hits you: he must love her in some capacity. It's the only explanation for his unwavering loyalty, for his willingness to sacrifice some of his own freedom for her sake.
You breathe out softly, nodding as you agree with your mind, “You love her, don’t you? That’s why you stick around and give her anything she wants, even if that means letting herself indulge in more than just you.”
He scoffs and laughs loudly, making you jump back slightly, “Y/N, this isn’t a soppy fairytale or one of your romance novels. I’m a Prince of Hell, not Prince Charming. I’m incapable of love,” his face is bright, tittering at even the implication, “I am fond of her though, I will admit. She has a charm about her that intrigues me.”
“Then why do you stay, fondness isn’t enough to stay in this house,” you question, a little more confident now that his protective guard is down.
He pauses, mulling over your question before responding, “I promised I would give her what she needs, and she needs me,” he explains, his voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone. As he moves closer to you, his signature smirk returns, “And I don’t break my promises, Y/N.”
You tremble a little, the lowering octave in his voice causes your knees to quake and heart to still. As Heeseung's body towers closer, you find yourself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, the allure of his enigmatic persona drawing you in like a moth to a flame.
His menacing smirk widens as he watches your reaction, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you can't quite decipher. Just being this close to him is making your body react in a way it shouldn’t, your thighs rubbing together as he looks into your eyes, seeking to find out what’s going on in your brain.
And unfortunately for you, he’s good at picking up your signals.
"What do you need, Y/N? Let me help you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that resonates deep within you. You take a step back, intending to create some distance between you, but your legs betray you, colliding with the edge of the bed and sending you stumbling backwards.
Just as you brace for impact, Heeseung is there, his strong arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through your veins as he steadies you effortlessly. "See? You can trust me," he reassures, his voice low and hypnotic as he holds you close.
His words slice through the air like a siren's call, drawing you nearer despite the warning bells in your mind. As Heeseung's eyes lock with yours, vulnerability washes over you, a desire to confide in him, to bare the depths of your desires.
“I know what you want anyway. Your soul has been calling out for it. I can hear you crying out, just like I did the others,” his grip on your waist tightens.
You stay still, pondering his words. How can he hear your soul’s desires when you’ve been grappling and searching to figure out what you want your entire life? You moved to the big city for university because you thought it was a sure cut way to achieve fulfilment, only to find unhappiness. You entered relationships yearning for love, only to hide away from the commitment when it all got too real.
In all your existence, you have never known what you want.
But he does, you can see it in his eyes, “What do I want, Heeseung?” you ask both curiously and longingly, hoping he can shed some light upon you.
“You want this life, with us,” Heeseung says matter of factly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as the scared expression turns into one of perplexion, “Don’t you see it? How you took Soonyeol’s place so easily, falling into her role like you were born to be ours, like we were made for you.”
His words linger, thick with insinuation. You study his eyes for signs of deception, but all you see is sincerity, a profound conviction that sends shivers down your spine because deep down within you, you know it’s true too.
Ever since you set foot in this house, you've felt it - a subtle shift in the air, a stirring of something dormant within you. In the city, you lived in a tiny flat, unemployed and miserable, your only solace found in the familiar glow of your television screen as you binge-watched your favourite shows for the umpteenth time.
But here, in the mansion, it's different. Cleaning its halls and tending to the dolls and their needs, it's given you a purpose you thought you had lost along the way. Each day brings with it a renewed sense of fulfilment, a feeling of being truly alive in a way you haven't felt in years.
You want this life, you’ve fallen in love with its routine and stability, how each day you wake up and roam the halls, admiring the artwork and serenity in the echoes of your footsteps. The silence of it all makes your heart weep with joy, the boys you have come to cherish - even now, despite knowing about their supernatural entities and the mass power they hold - you love them dearly.
Heeseung, as if reading your mind, smirks and licks his lips, “You feel alive, don’t you?” He knows you do, he can see it in your eyes and the feel of your blood rushing along your veins. Mia was right when she said you were glowing all but two weeks ago. You’re radiant, like you have your own personal sun perched upon your shoulder, giving you an incandescent glow.
You’re finally happy.
“You also want one more thing,” Heeseung’s voice is a mere whisper now, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. Your pupils dilate as you lock eyes with him, his presence drawing you in as if he's reaching into the depths of your soul, rummaging around inside to pull you apart, “You’ve been craving me.”
A visceral energy electrifies every nerve ending in your body as he speaks, the expectation crackling in the air. You're standing on the verge of something exciting and new, and it feels like time has stopped still. The intensity of his stare searing into yours, the heat of his fingers against your back as he dips them up your shirt makes you shakily exhale the breath you were holding.
He rubs his beautiful, sharp nose against yours, closing his eyes as he reads further into your heart, “You feel like you’re missing out on me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sinister undertones, because he knows he has you exactly where he wants you.
It’s embarrassing but it’s true, even if you don’t wish to admit it to yourself. You don’t want to seem ungrateful to the other three because truly they have given you everything you could ever need; but no amount of fulfilment from them can stop your aching body, wanting nothing more than to have the doll in front of you, the one who is currently holding you so tightly that you should feel trapped, yet you’ve never felt more liberated.
As his arms tighten around you, holding you in a suffocating grip, you find your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty, "You never showed any interest in me. I didn’t think you wanted me."
A wicked grin twists across Heeseung's lips, his eyes glinting with malice as he leans down to your neck, licking a long stripe up your jugular, savouring your taste on his tongue. He can’t stop the rumble of a chuckle coming from his chest.
“Baby, you just seemed to be having such a good time with my brothers; who was I to deny them your presence?” Heeseung nips are your skin, eliciting a moan from your dry throat. The air around you both is stifling, the atmosphere heavy with want and greed because you both know what is about to happen, even if you want to stop it - which you don’t.
Heeseung’s allure is too powerful for you to deny, it’s easy to see how Soonyeol got sucked in so easily, wanting him in her life and summoning him here forever. His touch though, is another level of intoxication entirely. His large hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends your mind reeling, drowning in a sea of exhilaration.
As you part your lips to speak, Heeseung watches you with predatory patience, knowing that whatever words escape your mouth, they will only serve to further his agenda. In this moment, you are merely a pawn in his twisted game, powerless to defy the inexorable pull of his dark charisma.
“Jongseong said you don’t like to be last,” you say, discretely questioning his reasoning for not coming into contact with you sooner.
Laughing, Heeseung shakes his head with a sinister delight. His bottom lip grazes up your chin, dragging closer until it hovers mere millimetres from your mouth, “Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wanted you to experience them first and let them have some fun with you,” he presses you harshly against him, letting you feel his thick cock against your heat, causing you to whimper slightly, much to his approval.
He kisses your lips every so lightly, your instincts to chase his mouth with yours only adding to his amusement. You’re such a strong-willed girl, he knows that by how he has observed you and how long you have remained in this house despite the constant terror and unease it has bestowed upon you. So to see you utterly weak like this is fueling his desire like crazy.
You look at him, waiting for him to talk again and say anything that would give you both the green light to divulge your sins.
“I let them have you because if I got to you first,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, and you can feel the smugness radiating from him, "You wouldn’t have even looked their fucking way."
Heat surges through you, an uncomfortable arousal that threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to contain the torrent of desire within you. It's as if every inch of your skin is on fire, and you long to shed it all off your bones just to cool the burning sensation. The wetness between your legs is undeniable as it practically runs down your thighs.
Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his kisses trailing along your neck and jawline and your hands clench at your sides, tension and lust swirling within you. If this is going to happen, it's going to happen now, forcing you to confront the question that looms over you like a dark cloud,
Are you going to fuck a Prince from Hell?
There are so many wrongs to counteract the rightness of this moment, knowing that this is territory foreign to the others you’ve laid with. They might be celestial beings but Heeseung is a God in his own right and he fucking knows it.
You can feel his amusement radiating off him as he watches you struggle with your inner thoughts, relishing in your torment as you wrestle with the pros and cons of surrendering to him completely. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remains clear:
You want him. More than anything, you want to give in to the temptation that beckons you toward him, to lose yourself in the darkness that surrounds him. And as you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, you know that no matter the consequences, you're ready to embrace the inferno that awaits.
“So…can I ruin them for you?”
He looks at you using the triangle method and you almost physically fall to your knees, each time his eyes dart between your mouth and eyes, you feel saliva forming at the corner of your lip, lustfully loving his hooded eyes as he stares down at you. The way he assesses you, with a predatory focus that makes your heart race, leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
But you want to fuck him so bad, you think you might die.
With a skip of your heart, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. It's all the confirmation Heeseung needs and in an instant, his lips crash down on yours, a collision that would make Asmodeus jealous.
His touch is paradoxical, you can feel the roughness of his grip on your right tit, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips, and it only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. It’s obvious you're not alone in your craving; Heeseung has been consumed by thoughts of you since the first moment he laid eyes on you, a primal urge driving him to mark you as his own.
And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know that there's no turning back.
"I'm gonna fucking destroy every other man for you," he growls before roughly pushing you onto the bed, the severity of which causes you whiplash.
In urgency, Heeseung hastily works to remove your bottoms, his hands precise with anticipation, making sure he doesn’t lose another second. The fabric slides off your hips with ease, revealing the glistening wetness between your thighs and the cold air kisses your exposed cunt, making you shiver.
Heeseung's middle finger traces along your folds, collecting some of your slick arousal and spreading it with sinful precision, applying pressure on points you’re sensitive. As he teases you, his voice drips with a mixture of amusement and wicked desire.
"Your cunt is drooling over a demon, are you not embarrassed?" he taunts, his words laced with a dark edge that ignites a fierce blush on your cheeks. What’s worse is that his mockery only serves to stoke the lust within you, your hole clenching involuntarily in response.
Unfortunately for you, he notices, his chuckle knowing. "I do love a girl with no shame," he mumbles, his voice thick as he revels in the sight of your unabashed arousal.
With a predatory glint in his eyes, Heeseung wastes no time diving in, his mouth and tongue delving into your slick folds with a hunger that borders on ravenous. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as he explores every inch of your dripping sex with unrestrained fervour.
His movements are uninhibited, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against your sensitive nub as he seeks to consume you entirely. Each wet, sloppy lick and suck sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.
In the throes of pleasure, your instinctive reach to grab Heeseung's hair proves to be your first mistake. Before your fingers can even brush against his roots, he retaliates with a harsh bite on your clit, causing you to recoil with a cry, tears welling in your eyes.
“I didn’t say you could touch me, did I?” he warns, his mouth still wet with your juices as he looks up at you with a mix of dominance and satisfaction.
The memory of your first encounter with Jongseong floods your mind, the way he punished you for your disobedience is still vivid in your memory. It was meant to deter you from acting out, and in his case, it did. But now, with Heeseung, the desire to be reprimanded once again ignites within you, a need that demands satisfaction.
Jongseong awakened something inside of you, a craving for submission and punishment that you never knew existed. And now, with Heeseung, you yearn to explore it on a new level, one that a sweet angel like Jongseong is too kind to deliver.
It’s exciting and foolish all at once.
Gently, you run your hands through his hair, feeling the texture of it between your fingers as you grasp at his roots.
Heeseung's reaction is immediate, his body tensing at your touch even as a low growl rumbles in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he leans into your touch, his tough facade cracking ever so slightly as a faint tremor runs through him. It's a fleeting moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armour he wears so proudly.
For a brief instant, you glimpse the man behind the Prince of Hell, a creature of darkness with desires and needs of his own. You ponder if this is what Soonyeol gives him, if that is why he is so reluctant to enjoy your comforting touch.
But before you can think much more about it, he reacts with swift brutality, sinking his teeth harshly down on your clit once more. The pain is searing, a sharp shock that tears a cry of both pain and pleasure from your lips. It's a punishment, yes, but one that you oh so desperately want.
His teeth sink in with immense force that causes you so much pain you try to escape, kicking your legs to scramble from him. But that only makes things worse as he grips your thighs with might to hold you in place, bruises and indents already forming under his nails. He adds a cruel twist, pulling at your bug sharply, causing your hips to rise instinctively towards his mouth in a futile attempt to ease the agony.
But Heeseung isn't fooled by your subtle movements. He catches on quickly, his grip tightening on your clit before he roughly pushes you down onto the bed, his palm pressing forcefully into your stomach to keep you in place.
"Don't make me rip it off," he growls, his eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger and lust. It's a warning laced with danger, a reminder of the power he wields over you, “You’re so good for Jongseong, his…what did he call you? his ‘good little girl’, was that it?” he asks you with a condescending tone.
How did he know about that?
Your eyes widen and he idly rubs your pussy painfully slowly, sighing out loud with over-exaggeration, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Heeseung's knowledge of your intimate dynamics with Jongseong sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though moving torturously slowly, ignite sensations that both excite and terrify you.
“What? You thought you could call upon the entirety of Hell and word wouldn’t get back to me?”
That night when Jongseong set your underwear ablaze and used your essence as a way to reach the pits below you. They heard it all; your whimpering and moaning for the angel, how you begged him to fuck you, and how he called you his good girl.
Which means Heeseung heard it all…
Spitting on your pussy, he licks it back up, the white foam sitting on his tongue as he draws it back into his mouth slowly. It’s another way of torturing you, of giving you a piece of him while just as quickly taking it away.
“If you can be a good girl for him, why aren’t you being one for me?” Heeseung's faux pout and slumped shoulders mask the dominance in his tone. With each flick of his finger, he revives the pain back onto your rose, denying you any reprieve.
You whimper with each taunt, wishing he would just go back to sucking your clit, to lick the wounds he created - but this is what you get when you play with fire.
Breathing out slowly, you nod, relenting your notion to be punished…for now.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” you say sorrowfully, thrusting your clit up as you serve yourself to him on a plate.
Heeseung pauses, his expression shifting as he considers your apology. For a moment, it seems as though he might relent, his features softening with the faintest hint of hesitation. But then, with a wicked glint in his eyes, he shakes his head slowly.
"You know," he muses, his voice dripping with amusement, "I've always had a preference for bad girls." You almost moan out loud, the way his voice changed gear from one of anger to one so sultry you can forecast rain for the next two days.
He kisses your clit softly and slowly with his petal-soft lips. The lewd sounds of his mouth combined with your wetness elicit tiny whines from your lips, creating a symphony of want and distress. It's an ennui unlike any other you've ever known, a dizzying combination of pleasure and agony that leaves you wanting more.
Heeseung's lips dip lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explores every inch of your quivering flesh. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.
"You want more, don’t you?" Heeseung's voice is a low murmur against your skin as he continues his tormenting actions. Each kiss, each caress sends ripples of sensation through you, building the tension to unbearable heights.
Before you can render yourself to say anything, he delves back in, his tongue now swirling in your hole, like he’s digging for treasure. You grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch.
What doesn’t help is when you look down at him and see him smirking up at you, rubbing his nose against your clit. It’s enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs seize up.
“Oh god, Heeseung..." you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless whisper as pleasure washes over you in waves.
He draws back, his eyes ablaze with raw desire, "That's right, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. "I am your God now."
As you close your eyes, you suddenly feel two of his fingers delving into you, the sensation causing your back to arch, thus, pushing your heat further into his face. Everything you are experiencing right now is so overwhelming, there is no let-up and you think this is both the most painful and best you have ever felt.
Heeseung’s concentration is solely on you cumming undone, wanting only to see your face when you are overcome with bliss. He has had to spend 6 weeks or so listening to his brothers talk about how beautiful and ethereal you look as the whites of your eyes take over; now it’s his turn.
Curling his fingers inside you, he beckons your orgasm forward, pushing against the spongy flesh of your walls, his middle digit hitting deliciously against a soft spot while he flicks his tongue over your bud. You wriggle beneath him, soft moans escaping your lips as you feel your tummy coil.
Heeseung's efforts are rewarded as your body responds to his touch, pleasure building to a crescendo until it explodes within you. With a crying scream, you call out his name, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head as you ride the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.
Your body arches, seeking both escape from his relentless touch and yet craving more of the intoxicating sensation he provides. In that moment of release, you are utterly and completely lost to him, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he elicits from you.
Out of every orgasm you’ve had, this is the one that has rendered you completely dumb, incapable of doing anything more than panting and twitching.
But Heeseung doesn't grant you a moment to catch your breath. Even as your body shudders with the aftershocks of your climax, he commands you, his voice laced with authority. "Sit up," he orders, his tone brooking no argument as he guides you into a sitting position, his hand gripped tight in your hair as he yanks you forward. The air crackles with anticipation as you have no choice but to comply, “Strip me, baby.”
Without a second thought, you mindlessly rise to your feet, your fingers fumbling eagerly with the hem of Heeseung's loose white t-shirt. In one swift motion, you pull it over his head and toss it aside, your gaze hungrily tracing the contours of his bare chest. You want nothing more than to touch him, to caress his delicate skin with your hands, but you’re scared it’ll temper him into ripping all of this away from you.
Returning to sit on the bed with renewed enthusiasm, you focus your attention on his baggy grey joggers, swiftly untying the strings and pulling them down to reveal his naked form beneath. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his arousal, his impressive length standing semi-hard before you.
Without hesitation, you reach out and grasp his cock, feeling the heat of his faux skin beneath your fingertips. With a sense of urgency, you press your lips to his flushed tip, desperate to taste him before he can deny you the pleasure.
You lick at his shaft like he’s a frozen popsicle on a swarming hot summer day, your need driving your hurry as you coat him in saliva. The more you lick, the harder he gets and his throat has to hold back groans.
Heeseung's initial instinct is to reprimand you for your boldness, for daring to take control in such a way, but unlike Jongseong, he has little self-control, the pleasure he’s feeling as your mouth envelopes him fully is more than enough cause to let you continue.
As his mouth relaxes and his eyes screw shut, you take advantage of the opportunity to explore him further, dropping your head to focus on his balls. The sensation is amazing, sending pleasure-filled sparks through his body as he surrenders part of himself to you.
You’re so drunk on his cock right now that you don’t even care how desperate you look, you just need him in every way possible. If he asked, you would probably fuck him in his demon form; as long as you could taste him on your tongue, that is all that matters.
Heeseung pushes your head back abruptly, his fingernails digging deep into your scalp, causing a disgruntled whine to fall from your mouth.
The throbbing between your legs beats loudly in your eardrums as you look up and see his eyes, that same red flickering behind his pupils except this time, they swirl with a deep black cloud. You can tell he’s aching to be released from the confines of the doll suit, to break free and absolutely devour you in his true form.
You should feel scared, petrified even, yet you only long for him more.
“You’ll never make it to heaven with a tongue like that, Baby.”
His words, spoken with a hint of warning, only serve to fuel the fire burning within you, "What makes you think I want to go to heaven?" you retort, your voice dripping with desire and defiance.
With a sly smirk, Heeseung leans in closer, sending shivers down your spine, "Maybe you prefer the flames of hell," he murmurs, his tone laced with dark promise, "And I'll be more than happy to escort you there myself."
Heeseung's hand grips your hair with a firmness that borders on possessive. He then thrusts his cock into your mouth with commanding force, the sudden intrusion eliciting a gasp of surprise from you, causing you to choke slightly.
But that doesn’t stop him, instead, he just continues to batter your throat with his length brutally, each punch of his hips only further bruising your oesophagus. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Yet, why do you love it? The feeling of your world almost going black, the way your body tightens around nothing but the desire to breathe, it’s deadly but you couldn’t be more alive.
Feeling you splurt out tiny breathes around his dick as you gasp for air, Heeseung pulls your head back, letting oxygen breathe back into your lungs.
He takes the moment to admire you; your hair tousled in his hands, your mascara smudging slightly around your eyes, and the spit mixed with some beads of his precum sliding slowly down your chin. You’re angelic, demonic, and everything he could ever want right now.
You’re so horny that not having his cock filling up one of your holes is leaving you whimpering, tears forming in your eyes - not from pain but need. You need to feel him in some way, you are starving for him, and one more second without tasting him might send you into madness.
And Heeseung knows it, he can hear your greatest, deepest desires after all. The thought of you under his spell without him using a single persuasive tactic is euphoric to him. Through the years, Soonyeol has grown accustomed to him, expecting his demanding nature but never truly worshipping him the way he wants; not the way you are right now.
This might only be for tonight but he will try and make it last an eternity.
Huffing out in frustration, you grow tired of waiting for Heeseung to make his move, opting instead to brush your face across his throbbing cock. The sensation of his velvety shaft against your cheeks is phenomenal, the need for contact driving you to this demoralising state.
Closing your eyes, you relish in the tactile sensation, savouring the moment of intimacy as you slap his cock against your cheek and mouth. The hunger within you demands satisfaction, and you're willing to take whatever scraps of pleasure you can get, even if it's just the simple touch of his arousal against your skin.
“You’re so fucking filthy, baby,” he growls, his eyes blown in ecstasy while he watches you lather yourself with his member, “Are you that much of a cockslut?”
Absentmindedly you nod, owning up to the degrading nickname because, at the end of the day, that is exactly what you are right now; a cockslut, an ever-needing, desperate cockslut for none other than the high-ranking Prince of Hell.
Nudging your nose with his tip, you beg him like a dog to let go of your hair and stuff your mouth full once again. The mewls leaving your mouth flood Heeseung’s ears and he understands that you’re too far gone to form a sentence, so he grants your wish and shoves himself back into you.
His hips buck forward with a fierce urgency that sends your head shaking with each forceful thrust. The intensity of his movements makes your eyes roll back, driving you deeper into a state of arousal as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm.
But with your mouth full, your pussy is feeling dangerously left out, your entire heat seeking some form of release. Without realising it, you start to hump the air, moving your hips as though you were grinding on his cock.
Heeseung's movements falter for a moment as he notices your struggle to find complete pleasure. With a low grow, he halts his thrusts, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest.
“Look at you,” he points out, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, watching as your juices leak out your cunt, staining his sheets a darker shade.
Smirking, he places his foot on the edge of the bed, pressing ever so lightly onto your dripping heat. You gasp and pop off his cock, looking down as you see your way to much-needed relief. Heeseung steps on you roughly, offering you a sturdy anchor which you eagerly accept. Despite the pain as the ball of his foot presses against your clit, you push your body against it, relishing in the firmness of his sole against your skin; you’ll take any relief you can get.
Every movement sends a surge of electric pleasure coursing through you, the friction between your bodies. You grind against him with increasing intensity, your hips undulating in perfect rhythm with his foot as you chase after the elusive peak of ecstasy.
“Keep sucking it or I’ll take it away,” he warns, tapping his cock on your gaped mouth
The chilling warning from Heeseung serves as a reminder of the balance between pleasure and punishment. Taking his cock back into your mouth with newfound vitality, you return to your task with a sense of urgency. The taste of him is intoxicating, fueling your urge to please him and avoid the consequences of disobedience. You do not want him to take anything away from you.
He moves in tandem with your hips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you fuck yourself shamelessly on his foot as if you were a wanton whore in heat. Your hands gripping his leg for more leverage, seeking another release as fast as possible.
Humming around his length in a high-pitched cry, you climax violently, your impulse to thrust forward only shoving his cock farther into your throat, stretching it wide in ways you don't believe is humanly possible.
"Fuck-" Heeseung groans, the sound raw as he releases his thick ropes of cum down your throat, your climax setting off a chain reaction. His mouth hangs wide open as his throbbing shaft finds home in your canal, his eyebrows furrowed together as he loses himself. He can’t help but think what your perfect little pussy feels like as you cum, how it would squeeze him tighter than your throat can.
You are swimming in a pool of pure fire as you lose yourself to the engulfing of pleasure, riding his foot through your climax while swallowing his seed. This is a feeling you will never experience with any other man and you know now what he meant when he said you would never have looked at the others if he had his way with you first.
When both of your minds clear and your lungs are screaming out for oxygen, you pop off his cock, giving it an adoring kiss as a thank you for what has just happened and what it is about to do to you.
Looking down at you, Heeseung marvels at your display of gratitude, wishing every human was as worshipful.
“I’d love to rip that soul from your body and stuff you in a doll suit so I can fuck you forever.”
His admission catches you both off guard, the silence of the afternoon lying dormant around the room. Did he mean that? Did he want to take your soul and keep you? It’s plausible considering his history but to hear it being said about you makes your blood run cold.
But at this moment, if he asked you to let him in and take you, you might just let him - or maybe it was the emptiness of your cunt that was talking.
“I don’t need to be a doll to fuck until the moon shines and the sunrises,” you whisper, your lust completely taking over your body. The once timid and unsure version of yourself has faded into oblivion, replaced by someone bold, relentless, and consumed by the craving to be stuffed with his cock.
He audibly groans, hearing how keen you are for him to devour you, not even put off by his threatening admission just moments earlier. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head and shaking his thoughts, Heeseung lifts your chin and pulls on your bottom lip, staring at you as he figures out exactly how he wants you. He swipes his tongue along the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to hold you to that, baby. Get on all fours,” he instructs.
Doing as he says, you turn around and drop to your hands and knees, offering yourself up to him as your heart pounds in your chest in exhilaration. You wiggle your ass a bit, hoping he'll take the hint and dive in, fucking you as hard and fast as he so wishes.
Your ass is so perfect and plump he can’t help but grab at it, using his strong hands to knead your cheeks, pressing and pulling them apart as he takes quick glances at both of your holes. He wishes he had two cocks just to utterly destroy you with, each of your entrances filled with him as he pounds into you. Unfortunately, he only has one right now and he knows it’s your cunt that needs him the most, so he’ll save that idea for another time.
Grasping his cock, he slides it up and down your ass, shallowly tapping it to get him hard again, but with the way you’re already grasping the sheets in anticipation and your cunt is soaked with need, it doesn’t take him long. Heeseung strokes himself a couple of times before resting his tip at your gaping heat, the bell turning rosé as it pushes just slightly into you.
It's agonising, the way he waits there as though he's not equally consumed by the thought of rocking your world. He's deliberately drawing it out, savouring the anticipation, revelling in the sweet sound of your pleas, knowing that your cries for him are his ultimate desire fulfilled.
"Please, Heeseung," you whimper, arching your body towards him, desperate for the connection, but he always stays just out of reach, teasingly withholding what you crave.
You groan in frustration, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. He's in control, and you can't help but revel in the way he toys with you, pushing you to the brink of madness with his tantalising touch.
But there is only so much a girl can take, so with a resolute sparkle in your eyes, you make it clear that you will not be denied any longer. Ignoring his playful taunting, you reach between your bodies and direct his hardness to the entrance of your smooth heat. Swiftly, you impale yourself on him, a moan escaping your lips as you take him deep inside.
Heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily stunned by your boldness, but it's only for a minute before a wicked grin spreads across his face. You are so much more than he could have ever imagined.
Slapping your ass harshly, he hopes to still you but it only makes you rock onto him faster. You set a punishing pace, riding him with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of finally having him where you want him.
Again, he crashes his hand painfully against your cheek but you won’t stop, you can’t, his dick is so delicious as it sucks into your cunt. Rapidly, he hits you, one, two, three, four, all in quick strikes and all you can do is clench your pussy around him and moan, picking up your pace.
“I can’t even punish you because you love it,” he notes, leaning back to observe you in awe, loving how your body is starting to flush with sweat as you work overtime to take what you need from him.
“Fuck I wish you could see how pathetic you look right now.”
Gripping the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turn white as your chest tightens. The angle of his cock is hitting you so deliciously that you can’t even breathe properly or register a word he’s saying. All you heard was ‘pathetic’ and you agree with him because that’s how you’re backing yourself onto his long shaft.
Heeseung watches you in amazement, his own desire growing as he observes your relentless determination. "You love it, don't you?" he remarks, his voice laced with true admiration. He lets you have a few more moments of fun, clasping his hands at the back of his neck and pulling down, watching you with dangerous eyes. With the way your walls are closing in, he knows you’re close. “Tell me you love my cock.”
You nod, burying your face into the sheets as your coil threatens to snap, the harsh rhythm you set for yourself is faltering slightly as you reach your next climax. But when you don’t answer him and stroke his ego, it snaps Heeseung back into his domineering state.
Roughly bunching up your hair, he pulls your face from the bed and leans into your ear, his chest laid flat against your back, “Fucking answer me when I speak to you. Tell me you fucking love it,” he growls out his demands, ripping some of your hair from their roots.
Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper, you finally concede, unable to resist his commanding presence any longer. "I love it," you gasp, your voice strained with need as you surrender to his dominance. "I love your cock so fucking much!"
A satisfied smirk spreads across Heeseung's lips as he releases your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine in a possessive caress, "That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice sneering before pushing your head into the mattress.
From that moment on, the dynamic shifts entirely. Heeseung takes control with ruthless determination, smothering your face into the softness of the bedsheets. His strength overwhelms you as he holds you firmly in place, your features pressed into the fabric until you know you'll emerge from this session with a pounding headache.
Your muffled protests are lost in the sheets as Heeseung continues to assert his dominance, his grip unyielding. He piledrives into you, his foot now on the edge of the bed to give him more stability. His skin is furiously slapping against yours as he takes you brutally from behind.
"You wanted this, remember? Now, let me show you who's in charge."
Releasing your head, Heeseung grants you a moment to gulp in air, your chest heaving as you crave the sweet relief of oxygen. But his attention swiftly shifts, his hands now gripping your hips with a firmness that promises bruises, yet you welcome it eagerly. With each powerful thrust, he plunges deeper into you, his sizable cock filling you to the brim with each relentless motion.
With hunger burning in his eyes, Heeseung unleashes his pent-up desire upon you, each thrust a savage declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, his strength undeniable as he takes complete control.
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks in their wake, tangible evidence of his possession. Every time he thrusts, he claims you anew, his relentless rhythm driving you to the edge of sanity and pleasure.
The sound of your mingled moans fills the air, a symphony of ecstasy and pain as he pushes you to the brink and pulls you back again. Your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of sweat and sex, the slick friction of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony.
You’ve got a pussy that could even make demons pray, Heeseung thinks to himself. He could watch you all day, how your cunt swallows him like its sole purpose was to please his cock. But as much as he likes the shape of your body as he takes you from behind, he longs to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.
Heeseung flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as he continues to ravish you with unrestrained passion, his hands pressing hard on your waist. Your head spins as the world shifts, your back now pressed firmly against the mattress, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.
His eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips as he watches them with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, instinct taking over as he becomes entranced by the sight of your pretty mounds.
"You're so fucking gorgeous,” his voice husky with desire as he reaches out to caress your soft skin, his touch setting your nerves ablaze with longing. He seems so gentle right now, like the demon inside him has subsided. You cherish the tiny glimpses of his vulnerability, knowing they come few and far between.
The tender moment doesn’t last long though as he quickens his pace once more, the bed beneath you squeaking and whimpering along with you.
Suddenly, his hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers deftly seeking out your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you, but before you can protest, his touch becomes too much, too overwhelming.
"It's too much," you whimper, trying to push his hand away, but he only presses harder, his grip unyielding. "Please, Heeseung, it's too-"
"Shut up," he interrupts, his voice firm and devilish as he continues to play with you, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. "You love it, and you know it."
And you do, you love it so much more than you can even describe. Your body stiffens as you feel yourself about to experience your nth orgasm. Honestly, you’ve lost track of how many it is now, the whole night blending into one big bout of pleasure.
You arch your back as his bell strokes right along your soft spot, causing a wave of ecstasy to wash over you, your mouth opens as you let out an earth-shattering cry, “Holy fuck, Heeseung!”
But he shows no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming even more relentless as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a primal roar, you feel it - the sudden, intense release as pleasure explodes within you, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning.
Heeseung thinks, no, he knows this is what heaven looks like, it has to be; the way your body opens up as wide as it can go, laying yourself bare like this while chanting a ritual of profanities. You look like you’re being exorcised and it’s so fucking hot to him.
What he takes a minute to notice though, is how his stomach and arm are being covered in your release, pouring out of you so perfectly as you bathe him in your essence. You’re squirting for him.
Smirking, he doesn’t let up the flicks to your clit or the pointed thrusts into your pussy, he wants to see how long this can last.
As you thrash beneath him, Heeseung lifts your hips higher with his left arm, driving into you with even greater force, his movements relentless as he seeks to elicit every last drop of pleasure from you. With each thrust, your juices flow even more freely, coating him in a slick sheen of your arousal.
"Holy hell, Baby," he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you baptising me."
He chuckles to himself, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal as he revels in the sensation of being drenched in your ecstasy. If this was the holy water people spoke about, he might just turn up to church every Sunday.
The tears falling from your eyes at the overstimulation tell him it’s time to drive it home, to finally let go and satisfy his own needs once again. Slowly, he shifts his weight, positioning himself for the final act of surrender. With each deliberate movement, he inches closer to the edge, his desire burning fiercely as he prepares to claim what is rightfully his.
Entering you once more, he relishes in the sensation of your heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Each thrust brings him closer to the brink, his senses ablaze, and just like that, he is cumming inside of you, shooting ropes of his white seed deep into your womb.
You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him, unable to get a good visual last time with his cock stuffed deep into your throat. You expect to see his vulnerability as with climaxes comes a complete lack of control, but you see something far different to your imagination.
His eyes are clouded with red, like he’s rolling his pupils so far back that you’re looking straight into his demon entity, like you can see the Prince of Hell in his true form. In some sick way, you don’t think he has looked more beautiful. He moans loudly but his voice is deeper, more threatening than usual, yet you find yourself reaching for his face, his allure drawing you in further than ever before.
His aura is dark and cloying, yet there's a slight change within him the second your fingertips brush his face. As if your touch can soothe the storm within him, the whirling black and crimson cloud that envelops him appears to diminish. He closes his eyes as he gives in to the calming effect of your touch.
Never before in his life has he met someone who could have such an effect on him. Although he is in control at this very moment, he is well aware that your power could render him defenceless with just a single gesture.
Guiding him, you pull his face down to you as you kiss him softly, breathing your life into him gently which he gladly accepts. As the kiss deepens, he shifts you gently, urging you to rest your head on his pillow, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you comply, sinking into the comfort of the mattress beneath you. He continues to explore your lips with a playful urgency, teasing you as you chase his elusive kisses.
“Heeseung-” you whine out but it barely makes audio waves as the fucking your throat received and the screams that ripped from your chest make it hard to talk.
Bringing his hand up to your throat, he applies gentle pressure, his touch like a soothing balm against the burning sensation. With each stroke of his fingers, the tension in your voice box begins to ease, the discomfort gradually fading away beneath his tender ministrations.
Heeseung meets your gaze with a fond intensity, sliding his cock out slowly as he shifts his body to create a space for you to lay your head on his chest. His arms wrap securely around you and he cradles you close, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat returning.
"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.
There's a part of you that yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?
"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.
You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”
As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.
"Say the word and she's gone, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.
Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?
Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.
“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.
“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.
“Y/N? Can you answer me?”
“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”
“Please answer me!”
Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.
But even as you feel yourself slipping under his spell, the echo of Jaeyun's pleas reverberates in your mind and with a jolt, you force yourself to pull away from the Prince's enchanting hold, breaking free from the spell he's woven around you.
“I don’t want this,” you push Heeseung away, your heart beating quickly as you realise what you have almost done, the distance from his touch giving you a sense of clarity, dispelling the fog of desire that clouded your judgement. “This is Soonyeol’s life, not mine. I won’t trade in one hell for another.”
Heeseung's eyes flash with anger for a fleeting moment, a storm brewing behind his gaze. But just as quickly as it comes, he reigns in his emotions, the tempest within him subsiding as he regains his composure.
“Fine. Don’t stay. But let me make these two weeks you have left count,” his signature smug expression returns as though you hadn’t seen the soul behind the demon a mere 10 minutes ago.
_____
Packing your bag, a heavy weight settles over you, dragging you down as you come to terms with the reality that this is the end. Two months of fear, lust, adoration, and anxiety swirl together in a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, each one vying for dominance as you prepare to bid farewell to it all.
With each item you place into your bag, it’s as if you’re emptying a foreign version of yourself. You know when you go home you’ll wear these same clothes and brush your hair with the same bristles, but it won’t be you anymore.
Maybe you should have taken Heeseung up on his offer.
Or perhaps this is the start of a new chapter for you. This new identity you feel surging inside your veins might help you navigate the big bad world a little easier.
Feeling a pair of arms encircle you from behind, you instinctively lean into Jaeyun's embrace, his presence offering a sense of solace amidst the uncertainty. His chin rests on your shoulder, his nose tickling the skin of your neck as he nuzzles closer, seeking comfort in your embrace.
"Please don't go, Y/N. I need you," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. The vulnerability in his words pierces through your own turmoil, reminding you of the depth of his feelings and the pain of letting go.
At that moment, as you stand entwined together, you both understand the weight of the connection that binds you. It's more than just the physical intimacy you've shared; it's a bond forged throughout your two months here. Everyone can see it, feel it - the undeniable truth that your relationship transcends mere physical attraction.
But you need to let him go.
"You don't need me, Baby doll," you murmur softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "You've got Soonyeol. She will look after you just like before."
As the words leave your lips, a sorrowful cloud settles over you, the reality of your impending departure sinking in. Despite the pain of leaving Jaeyun behind, you find solace in the knowledge that he won't be alone, that someone will be there to care for him in your absence.
But even as you try to reassure him, a part of you can't shake the feeling of loss that grips your heart. Though Soonyeol may provide comfort and support, you know that your absence will leave a void that can't be easily filled.
Sunghoon hugs you both from the side, his sudden presence a comfort. Even after you discovered that he was a demon, you knew deep down he wasn’t a terrible soul, he was just trapped in bad circumstances, forced to live a life he hated. There is evil within him, that much is true, but he wouldn’t use it haphazardly or indiscriminately.
“I’ll miss you too, baby girl. More than I think I’d like to admit,” he confesses, squeezing you and Jaeyun tight in his arms.
“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jongseong’s voice rings loud in your temporary room, causing you and your boys to break apart. Tenderly kissing each of them goodbye, they gracefully exit the room, leaving you alone with Jongseong, granting you both the privacy needed for your conversation.
"What's up? Gonna miss me?" you tease, playfully punching Jongseong's shoulder.
Jongseong chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nods. "More than you'll know...but I need to tell you something."
The playful banter fades away, replaced by a solemn atmosphere that settles between you. The air grows heavy with anticipation as you wait for Jongseong to speak, sensing that whatever he has to say is of great importance.
Taking a deep breath, Jongseong meets your gaze with a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, I need you to do something for me," he begins, his voice steady despite the weight of his request.
"What is it?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the seriousness in his tone.
Jongseong hesitates for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I need you to talk to Heeseung," he says, his expression earnest, "Ask him to untether Jaeyun from Soonyeol."
“What? Why?”
“Heeseung told you Jaeyun’s story, right? How he was supposed to be a guardian?” Jongseong's eyebrows raise expectantly, his gaze searching your face for understanding. Slowly, you nod, though confusion clouds your features. Sighing, Jongseong clasps his hands together as he continues, “I think…somehow…he is supposed to be your guide, your guardian angel.”
Jaeyun? Your guardian angel? A mighty laugh leaves your lips as you think he’s pulling some sick joke, but he is not laughing, not even a hint of mischief playing around on his expression. He is deadly serious here.
“Wait…what? But aren’t guardian angels assigned at like, birth or something?” you question, not wrapping your mind around the idea just yet.
Jongseong nods thoughtfully, his expression grave. "Yes, traditionally, that's how it works," he replies, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "But sometimes, fate has a way of... rearranging things. Guardian angels can also be soulmates in the realm of living.”
You lean back, trying to process this new information. "So, you’re now telling me that Jaeyun is my soulmate? So which is he?"
“Well, when he died it was sudden and tragic, no one saw it coming. It wasn’t planned the way God intended and that day you lost your soulmate. But you were meant to gain your angel that day…until Heeseung pulled him away.”
The weight of Jongseong's words hangs heavily in the air, sinking deep into your consciousness. A sense of disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the implications of his revelation. Jaeyun, your soulmate? The idea seems both surreal and profound, challenging everything you thought you knew about love and destiny.
There is no denying the connection you have but it all seems more outlandish than the library having a fire telephone to ring hell up and have a gab.
Jongseong feels your body overcoming with contemplation and questioning his words, so he jumps in. “All the signs are there, Princess. The connection you both have, how you can feel one another's emotions, Jaeyun has even been telling me he feels like there is a string pulling him to you.”
“A string?”
"Mhm, It is what binds a guardian angel to their human, and when you leave, it will shatter, just like your heart, and you will both be in such agony that it will swallow you whole," he says solemnly, his voice tinted with his personal experiences, "Trust me, I know it better than anyone."
Jongseong and Soonyeol…their string must have been broken once he was banished from being her guide. As you look at the sadness etched across his face, you know you never want to experience the pain they both must have felt.
“I don’t want to let him go, but he belongs here with Soonyeol. Heeseung told me how she needed him too,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you confess your inner anguish.
He feels your pain and inwardly cries for you. Gently, he uses two of his fingers to lift your chin, his eyes boring into yours as he pleads with you. “YOU need him, Sweetheart, just like he needs you. Please, grant me permission to speak to Heeseung on your behalf, I’ll sort something out with him, okay?”
His words resonate deep within you, stirring a sense of hope amidst the despair. Maybe Jongseong could convince Heeseung somehow. Perhaps your time spent with Heeseung over the past two weeks would count for something. After all, there had been moments of connection and understanding between you, moments that hinted at a deeper bond than he would probably like to admit.
But then doubt creeps in. Would Heeseung truly consider your feelings in his decision? Or would he give you the same ultimatum he had given before - stay and he would rid this house and the boys of Soonyeol, without a second thought?
You suppose you have to try, right?
“Talk to him, but only if Jaeyun wants to, this is his decision too.”
_____
As the sound of Soonyeol’s car driving up the gravel path reaches your ears, it feels like her tyres are rolling over your heart. Standing with your bags packed, you glance at the boys, each of them sitting in their dining room seats, ready to take on their doll personas once again. Each of their gazes says something different, but sorrow is evident.
“I’ll miss you guys,” you pout, unable to suppress the sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. Fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, you try to mask the ache of impending departure with a feeble attempt at a smile. But the weight of the moment looms, casting a shadow over the room as you prepare to say goodbye to the home and the family you've come to cherish.
“We’ll miss you too, baby girl,” Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours one last time, a silent reassurance amidst the impending farewell.
Jaeyun's expression is heavy with heartache, his eyes pleading with you to stay, but you can't bear to meet his gaze. You know that Jongseong's talk with Heeseung didn't go as hoped, and the disappointment hangs thick in the air, making your departure that much more difficult.
Suddenly, Jaeyun stands up, his movements swift as he storms over to you. Without a word, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your cheeks as he pours all his love and longing into the embrace. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his touch, savouring the taste of his lips against yours.
You hug him tightly, forcing the lump in your throat to retreat back to your stomach, cherishing this last moment.
“Jaeyun, get back in your seat, Soonyeol will be here any minute,” Heeseung warns, his voice pulling you both from your moment.
As Jaeyun's lips leave yours, the air between you crackles with unspoken emotions. His stare is intense, searching yours for any way he can stay with you. But you can only offer him a small, sad smile, knowing that your time together is slipping away with each passing second.
The thing that hurts the most is that Jaeyun has no clue that he is your soulmate or was supposed to be your guardian angel, he just thinks he’s losing your love when in fact, he’s losing part of his soul that you’ll take with you.
“I gave you my number, yeah? Give me a call anytime you can,” you mutter into his lips, finally stepping back to let him go back to the life he knows.
Within a second of Jaeyun taking his place, Soonyeol comes through the door, a gleeful smile plastered on her face as he looks straight at her dolls. It’s evident that she’s missed them but then again, who wouldn’t? You know as soon as you leave here you’re going to have a hole in your heart, pieces of it left with each one of them - even Heeseung.
Turning, she looks at you sceptically, noting the off atmosphere in the room but you don’t allow her a second to ponder it, interjecting as she goes to speak. “So, Soonyeol, how was your trip?”
“Oh, it was excellent! Just a few bits and bobs to tidy up.” She avoids divulging your curiosity. It’s clear her business was either extremely mundane to the point that there was nothing to tell you about, or that she is still harbouring a secret from you. To be honest, you think you’re done snooping and uncovering secrets for the rest of your life.
Ignorance might just be bliss.
She rummages her tote bag in search of a brown envelope, which she gladly hands you, “Here is everything, I counted it 5 times so it should be right,” you marvel at the wad of cash in your hand. Never in your life have you seen this much money in one go, it’s truly amazing. “How were my boys? I hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Like they were never here,” you lie, smiling softly which eases Soonyeol’s mind.
“Thank you so much, Y/N. I can tell you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can’t thank you enough!” she beams as she looks longingly into Heeseung’s eyes. There is a spark of adoration between them that makes you smile, although you do want to warn her that he would have literally killed her if you asked him to.
Again, ignorance is bliss.
Gathering your belongings, you give the dolls one last look over, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving them behind. With a heavy sigh, you turn to Soonyeol, offering her a small, grateful smile.
"It was a pleasure, Soonyeol. Thank you for trusting me enough to look after them and this house," you say, your voice overcome with sincerity.
Soonyeol returns your smile, her expression warm and genuine. "If I ever need anyone again, you will be first on my call list," she replies, her words carrying a sense of appreciation for your dedication.
You bid farewell to the house and the memories it holds as you trudge through the long hallways. You can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the experiences you've shared and the bonds you've formed. You’ll miss them all so dearly that it hurts you to even turn your back on them, but you know it’s for the best.
Carting your suitcase along the gravel, you catch sight of your car sitting patiently, a thin layer of dust coating its surface from the weeks it's spent waiting for your return. You had given up on cleaning it a while ago, unable to bear the reminders that your departure was imminent.
With a heavy heart, you click the boot open and shove your suitcase inside, the action punctuated by the force with which you slam it shut. Each motion is filled with a mix of sadness and frustration, emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface.
“Y/N, wait!” The familiar voice cuts through the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. Turning around, you're met with a sight that fills you with both hope and trepidation.
Your heart quickens in your chest as you spot Jaeyun darting towards you, his face a blend of determination and urgency. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between you in a few rapid strides, his fingers reaching out to ensnare yours.
In an instant, he envelops you in his embrace, his lips descending upon yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. Time appears to halt as the world fades into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a whirlwind of emotion.
The kiss is a whirlwind of emotion, a testament to the depth of your connection, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated.
As you pull away, a sense of urgency floods through you, prompting you to glance back at the house with a surge of panic. "Jaeyun, go back inside. Soonyeol-"
But before you can finish, Jaeyun interrupts with a bright smile, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, "I'm coming with you," he declares, punctuating his words with a gentle kiss on your nose.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, confusion swirling in your mind, "But I thought Heeseung said no?" you ask, searching Jaeyun's face for reassurance.
Jaeyun nods, holding you tight to him, “He said he was just waiting for Soonyeol, to ask if she would let me go and she said yes, can you believe it?”
No. No, you really can’t.
Then again, you know from your time with Heeseung and the box of cherished memories between him and Soonyeol that he really does do everything for her. If she wanted to keep Jaeyun then Heeseung would never dream of cutting the tie between the younger and his minder.
A wave of relief washes over you, mingled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, you realise that your happy ending isn't just a distant dream - it's within reach, waiting for you to seize it.
Glancing back at the house, you spot the others standing at the door, their figures framed by the warm glow of the sun. Soonyeol stands among them, her expression a mix of fondness and understanding, a knowing grin playing at the corners of her lips as she waves you off. She doesn’t look upset at the boys for blowing the secret but rather happy that one of them found serenity with someone the way she has with this house, with the dolls.
Quite honestly, you thought she would have blown a gasket but she isn’t the evil overlord you pictured her to be, even after Heeseung’s story of how she just wanted away from her toxic family you thought she must be hiding something to go to such lengths; perhaps hurt them or worse. But she really is just a girl, looking to live a peaceful life with a family she chooses, not one picked for her by God.
It all makes sense, calling upon Heeseung, because she lost her faith in the divine. Even heaven banished Jongseong for being dedicated to his job which tore them apart, she just did what she had to do.
A pang of sadness washes over you as you realise you're leaving behind the friends who have become like family to you. Each of them holds a piece of your heart, and the thought of saying goodbye, tugs at your emotions.
But as you turn to face Jaeyun, his hand clasped firmly in yours and that puppy-like smile plastered on his face, a sense of peace settles over you. With him by your side, you know you'll be okay.
Besides, who says you can’t pop back for a visit?
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fic#heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#tdh#aj writes
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Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
#do not be a cute girl around this man he will ruin your life#unedited#sorry this took me ages to pump out#tumblr deleted the first draft (?) so i had to rewrite#hate this dumb site#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#simon 'ghost' riley#ghost#simon riley#x reader#x female reader#call of duty#fanfic#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader
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STAY
Max Verstappen x Horner!Reader
Warnings : Angst, walking out on pregnant girlfriend? idk, dick Max? (honestly idk why i thought of this the thing just came into my head) Girlies i’m so sorry if this is shit this is my first time writing for someone if F1, this is just fiction idk all the facts.
Summary : As Christian Horners daughter, you were bound to meet Max Verstappen. What happens when you get pregnant when he is on the verge of becoming world champion and he doesn’t want to become a father? What happens when 3 years later after leaving each other’s lives, you get invited to the Grand Prix and he sees you again, this time with a little boy who looks just like him?
This is my first ever imagine on here so it’s probably really bad but i’m trying yall, we’re gonna work on it.
When you first met Max, you were both 18, he had started driving for red bull and you had started going to your dad’s, Christian Horner’s, work for some experience.
Racing wasn’t something you were exactly into, but it was practically your families life, so you grew up on it. At 18, you had decided to have a go at working in PR & media, and the RedBull F1 company was the perfect place to do that. Then you met Max, and your whole experience there changed.
Up until that point, you had never met a boy like him, he was so different, so passionate about the sport and you had to admit to yourself that you liked being around him, and he liked being around you.
And a relationship started around a year after you first met, a whole year of shy smiles to each other, hugs in excitement when he won, ones that lasted slightly longer than they should have. A year after you met was when Max finally had the guts to ask you out, and you, privately, got giddy with excitement.
He was your first everything. Your first date, your first kiss, your first boyfriend, and the first one you had sex with.
You couldn’t get enough of each other, you were utterly in love with him and everyone could see it. Max was never very good at showing his emotions, until it came to you, that’s when he completely changed.
Then one day, 3 years into your relationship, two pink lines turned up on a stick. You and Max had always been careful, a baby wasn’t what was wanted or needed at the time, you both knew that, Max was focusing on his racing career, he was determined to be the very best he could without letting anything getting in his way, and becoming at father at 21 would do just that.
But he deserved to know, and in your heart you hoped that the love the two of you shared would make everything okay, that it would all work out. But it didn’t.
Max freaked out, saying he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be a father, he wouldn’t be a father. He struggled with his relationship with his father growing up, he had barely gotten over that, and now his own child? No, he refused. And so you left, saying goodbye to him, you left.
And so you went back home to England, leaving Max behind, starting a new life with your baby. It wasn’t until 3 years later that Max would finally see your baby.
Otto had just turned 3, and he was the light of your world, his baby blue eyes and light blonde hair in slight curls was the thing that got you through each day.
Dropping Otto off at nursery, you got a phone-call from your dad.
“Hey sweetheart,”
“Hey dad, everything okay?”
“Listen, i know you’re probably going to say no, and that’s fine, but how about you and Otto coming to the Grand Prix this year? I know how much he likes cars, maybe he’d like to come and see them. He always go on about it, I thought it might be a nice idea to bring him out.”
You sighed, you knew how much your dad wanted to involve his grandson in the sport. Christian would always sit and watch the races reruns with him on tv when he got home, and played Disney’s cars with him when they saw each other. You knew your dad just wanted to do something special for Otto, but was it really worth the risk of seeing Max again, going through all the heartache again.
“I don’t know dad-“
“Max won’t be anywhere near you guys Y/N, I promise, you won’t have to see him, he won’t even know you guys are there.” You sighed again, know your dad was really wanting you to do this.
“You promise?” you asked, almost like a child.
“I promise.”
“I’ll think about it.”
And so you thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it until it kept you up at night.
It was only 48 before the Grand Prix that you had decided to go, and it was a tough decision, but for the sake of your son’s happiness, you gave in.
Getting there, you were greeted by your dad and his wife, Geri, who both immediately pulled you and your son into a hug. Geri looked at your son, “he’s gotten so big! I remember the day he was born, it seems like just yesterday.”
You smiled at her, it was true, the first 3 years of his life flew by in the blink of an eye, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest, not only for yourself, but for Max who never got to witness it. He would never get to see his first steps, his first smile, all because he didn’t want to. Everything in you said to be angry at Max, and while you were, you felt sad for him, because how sad that he would never get to see how amazing your son was.
Your dad took Otto out of your arms, cuddling his grandson who had a lightening mcqueen backpack on and a redbull baseball cap on. “Ready Ottie? We’re gonna go and see some cars, you excited?”
Otto squealed in delight, he fist pumped the air. “Yeah! Cars that go zoom?” He asked, in his sweet little voice.
“Cars that go very zoom,” Christian replied to him.
Running into Max almost seemed inevitable, even when your dad had promised you that he would be no where near you or Otto, but you hadn’t expected it to be because of your son running up to him.
Before the race began, before Max got into his car, before he would even be able to realise you were there, your dad had taken you and Otto to see the car, knowing your little boy would love it. Christian had promised you Max wouldn’t be there, he would be off getting ready for the race and doing some media responsibilities.
And he was, you and your little boy were enjoying yourselves, Otto go the chance to sit in the car, you and your dad got photos with him, he was giggling none stop, and you couldn’t help but feel this is how it could’ve been, just with Max being the one to show his little boy around.
Taking Otto out the car, your dad put him on the ground, holding his hand to keep him there. You and your dad talked more about the car, admiring it. You both hadn’t notice that the door had opened, and Otto had run straight towards the person that had opened it.
“Y/N?” the voice said, causing you to turn around, going pale.
Max was stood there, your little boy at his feet, his little baseball cap falling slightly over his eyes from the impact of running into Max’s legs.
You stood there speechless, not sure what to say after all these years. Your dad ran to get Otto, who giggled as his grandad picked him up, while Max just stared at him.
“He-Is that?” Max said, breathless pointing to your child, but you just stood there, heart beating out of your chest.
Otto made grabbing hands towards you, trying to get out of his grandad’s arms, “mummy!” He screeched, and you took his out of your dad’s hands, gathering his things in your hands, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“I’m sorry, coming here was a mistake.” You said quietly, trying to walk out the door where Max was stood.
“No wait!” Max said, not wanting you to leave, but you were now angry. He didn’t want you to leave now, but it was okay three years ago? Your heart had shattered when he wanted nothing to do with your baby, and it seemed to have shattered all over seeing him once again. “What’s his name?” He asked, staring at your little boy, who had the same eyes as him.
“Otto Max Horner.”
You could see Max trying to calm his breathing, his hands slightly shaking. Otto looked at Max, giving him a goofy smile, not understanding what was happening.
“Stay,” Max said to the both of you. “Just stay under after the race. Please just let me talk to you, let me talk to him, just stay for the race.”
You just smiled at him, sadly.
“You should have asked me to stay three years ago Max, it’s too late for that now.”
#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#f1 x reader#f1#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#red bull racing#max verstappen x reader#x reader#imagine#red bull f1
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i've got you ꨄ oscar piastri
oscar piastri x best friend!reader
warnings: angsty, arthur leclerc is the villain, oscar is in love w/ the reader but wont ever admit it, no hea [963 words]
request: 💗 can i request oscar with prompt 6? please and thank you!! 😽[6. "I've got you."]
A violent sob ripped itself from your body, your hand clutching the phone in front of you, the incriminating photo in plain view as you tried to process what was so prevalent on the screen.
It had been so obvious that things were falling apart in your relationship, they had been for months. Date nights were cancelled, anniversaries forgotten, but you never thought he would lower himself to this. Never thought you’d be getting that ‘I think this is your boyfriend?’ text.
But here you were, trying to contain the feelings flowing through you, the anger, the sadness, the heartbreak.
He had told you it was a small trip with his brothers, it was offseason for everyone, the only time they really had to relax. The lie was staring right at you, Arthur’s hands gripping the ass of an unnamed brunette, his lips connected with hers. There was no denying that it was him, the video that followed showing the two of them pulling away from each other, an intoxicated smirk on the lips of your long-term boyfriend.
You didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know if it was worth sending the proof to him, whether you should call him and ask him outright or act like it was all fake. The emotions were running through you so aggressively, you hadn’t even had the chance to properly think through everything.
How could he do this? Why did he think this was okay? How can he tell you he loves you, and then do this? Were you not good enough for him?
The variety of thoughts continued to cipher through your mind. Your body was begging your brain to stop, begging it to give you a moment to get a grip on reality, begging it to allow you a moment to think clearly.
You barely heard the repetitive knock on the door, the noises mixing in with the unrelenting thumping noises clouding your ears.
Oscar had a key to the apartment, always had. He always claimed it was a ‘safety measure’ and he needed to have one in case anything happened, or in case he ever had to get you into your apartment after a night out.
Most of the time it was used because you weren’t answering a message quick enough, and he wanted to spend time with you.
He had been messaging you since this morning, offering to bring you pastries from your favourite bakery, asking if you wanted to get lunch, had asked more than once if everything was alright. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his eyes when he realized why you weren’t answering him.
You had been friends for years, longer than any of your other friendships, had known him almost double the amount of time you knew Arthur. He had tried more than once to explain how disastrous dating the Monegasque could end up, but his attempts were futile. You were too stubborn to listen to him, too enamoured to believe that Arthur could be anything except lovely.
There was barely a thought in his mind before he was making his way to your apartment, aggressively knocking on the door; practically begging to be let in. He knew you were in there, could hear the soft sounds of you crying through the door, his heart breaking with every vicious sob he heard through the wood.
It didn’t take him long to find his key, pushing open the door with a bated breath, unsure as to the scene he was about to walk into.
You didn’t even acknowledge his presence, your body having begun the process of curling in on itself, trying to savour any sense of peace it could gather. Oscar felt his stomach drop when he finally made eye contact with you, the puffiness of them so obvious, the tears still clouding your vision.
“Oh, love. C’mere, I’ve got you.”
A small whimper left your lips as he sat down on the couch next to you, gently tugging your body into his. Your hand clutched onto his shirt, the tears still falling from your eyes instantly soaking the material when you pressed your head to his shoulder.
“Why’d he do this to me, Osc? Was I not good enough for him? What did I do to deserve this?”
Every other word punctuated with a cry or a sniffle prompted a small grimace onto his features. The pit in his stomach grew worse and worse with every word that fell from your mouth, his own heart breaking again as he tried to console you.
“You’re more than good enough for him, I’ve been saying for years you’re too good for him. You didn’t deserve this, at all. He’s a piece of shit,” he said.
His hands continued to rub up and down your exposed arms, your tears subsiding as you melted into his comfort. The grogginess was still prevalent in your head, your eyes puffy, your brain still trying to get a grasp of what was going on; but all you could focus on was the calluses on Oscar’s fingers catching on your skin, the heave of his chest as he cuddled you closer.
He was always the first person there for you, even without having to pick up the phone and ask him to be. For him, you always came first, above racing, above his friends; he would drop everything he was doing and run to you if you asked. He would never admit that, though, ever.
“I wish it was you all those years ago, Osc. You would’ve never done this to me,” you said.
Oscar felt his own heart splitting in two. You were right, he wished it was him all those years ago, too.
i did NOT know where to go with this one!!!! so angsty and sadness it is!!!!! sorry!!!!
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri x you#f1 imagine#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri blurb#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 one shot#formula 1 blurb#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#op81#mclaren#requests#my writing#writing
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GROUPIE LOVE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…
How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo], [geto], [toji], [choso], & [nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning.
mdni. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting.
cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title!
a/n: this is a repost from my old blog, which used to be a side blog.
Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”
His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you.
“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy.
“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“
“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy.
His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“
Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”
Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song.
He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit. He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body.
“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core.
Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”
He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”
You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan.
He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him.
“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”
And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit.
“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster.
“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”
Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked.
You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you.
“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned.
“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”
When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal.
And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips.
He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls.
“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them.
His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs.
“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”
Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”
Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you.
“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”
Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”
He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core.
“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation.
His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”
You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately.
Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums.
“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face.
“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”
Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips.
The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.
His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck.
“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”
“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard.
“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”
Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss.
“Out here? But-“
He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”
Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny.
“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”
And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”
“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”
BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES
gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming
please keep in mind that I block minors and ageless blogs. mdni.
please do not steal my work.
#jjk smut#jjk band au#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#toji smut#toji x reader#fushiguro toji#choso smut#choso x reader#choso#choso kamo#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento#jjk#jjk x reader
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Isolation
Part two of the craving you series (part 1)
Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader
Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary - you settle into your new job while Wanda undos your life
Warnings - manipulation, dark Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, breaking and entering, theft, bribery, catnapping, Wanda calls herself mommy, not proofread again srry
Words - 1.8k
A/n - this took me ages to write srry, I still think part one is better tbh
When you first got the job as Wanda's personal assistant you expected it to be strange like the meeting you'd had in her office prior, the one in which she'd has you begging on your knees. Much to your surprise however Wanda was more professional than ever, keeping to herself and only talking about work matters. Little did you know this was because she was too busy eyeing you up to make conversation.The job itself wasn't much too difficult either perhaps even easier than your original job and for the same wage. Your days consisted of planning phone calls, picking up mail, getting her lunch and coffees, taking notes in meetings, arranging taxis, responding to emails and then collapsing in to bed with your darling cats.
Wanda watched on eagerly as you slipped into a blissful false sense of security over the weeks working. Enjoying every second especially since she got to gaze at you every second of the day. The way you did your hair each morning, how you rolled around your wheeled chair had you been sat too long, the same pen you always fiddled with in meetings, how your nose scrunched when your were confused, the cuteness of your little yawns when you were tired. It was all the little quirks she hadn't got to see in you before that she grew to love now.
Her obsession love for you only grew the more time you'd spent with her. Your little smiles and nervous way of talking had her fighting back blush. Wanda was always ever so excited for you to go out on some pointless errand so she could take a look in your bag, one time even being lucky enough to find your treasured journal. Her favourite page, which she took photos of so she could re read it anytime, read as; 'my boss Wanda has been more kind than I could ever wish for, with giving me a new job instead of just throwing me out onto the streets. I wish she could know how grateful I am to still be employed as she could have easily had rid of me. I've always had such a good gut feeling about her as a boss and it's finally been proved correct.
I'd never admit this aloud as I don't think it's appropriate for work but I think Wanda is possibly one of the most pretty women I've ever met, she always has a radiant smile when she looks at me joined with such cute freckles.' Oh if only you knew how Wanda swooned when she read that entry.
Slowly though this new found closeness was not enough for Wanda, she felt as if your gratefulness was dwindling and the time you spent together was hardly enough for what she craved. For what she needed.
Wanda needed a new way to make you come to her to make you rely on her. She needed something you loved, she just had to think of what. That's when she figured it out, she was watching you through her computer one night as you lay in bed peacefully sleeping beside your cats. She knew how much you loved them, how lost you'd be without them.
Her plan was simple, tell you she was going out for lunch with a friend when really she was heading over to your flat to take Marlo and Nixie. Arriving at your flat she saw the front door unlocked and tutted to herself, how silly you really were lucky she was looking out for you or someone could have just waltzed right into your home. Stepping through the front door she was overwhelmed with a euphoric feeling of being surrounded by you and your things. Briefly forgetting about the cats she went around your room, going through your wardrobe, admiring your jewellery and lying down in your bed. But all that wasn't enough for Wanda she wanted a little souvenir from her trip and that's exactly what she got. Going back into your wardrobe she carefully went through your underwear drawers deciding to take a matching red lacey set with rhinestoned buckle, you wouldn't need them anyway the only person you should be trying to impressing was her.
After successfully stifling your underwear she moved onto getting the cats. She'd brought her own little carriers for them, Wanda was no monster of course she'd never harm the small animals you held so close she'd just keep them safe and away from you for a while. Marlo was easy enough to convince to get in the carrier being friendly and easy going almost just like you however Nixie was another story hissing and trying to claw at Wanda anytime she tried to pick her up. Lucky for her shed planned this having overheard you discussing with a coworker several weeks ago about how Nixie didn't tolerate strangers unless she had some catnip. Needless to say she'd prepared for this event. Smiling to herself as she poured the catnip into the carrier and trapping the unsuspecting Nixie inside.
The next day at work Wanda hid her smirk well when she saw you shuffle in with puffy bloodshot eyes with big dark circles underneath, deciding to feign concern instead.
"Oh darling, what's up? You can tell me anything." A comforting smile on her face makes you sure you can talk to her about the cats.
"My.. my cats went missing and no one can find them." Your voice is hoarse from crying as you speak and more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.
"That's no good at all sweet girl." She stands from behind her desk walking over and engulfing you into a strong hug. "If there's anything I can do to help you at this difficult time don't hesitate to let me know." She tells you in a warm voice as she pulls your head closer into her chest making it hard for you not to become flustered.
"Thanks, thank you miss Maximoff." Your stumble through your reply while burying yourself into her strong body.
A few days later and your cats still haven't returned and you find yourself further falling into despair.
That's when you find a letter in your house. One that pushes you over the edge. The one you never wanted to see. An eviction notice. It felt like the life you'd fought so hard for, one you'd dreamed of since childhood was being torn apart before your eyes. As if God was punishing you for some unforgivable sin.
Wanda watched on eagerly as she saw you find the eviction note in your pile of post, a sick grin contorting on her face at the sight of your misery, at the knowledge she'd be the one to bring you back up. The one to heal you. The one you'd grow to adore, worship and crave as she did you.
Of course she was at fault for that letter after having heavily bribed your landlord to get rid of you. At first he was much opposed claiming you to be 'one of his best tenants' and how you never missed rent but after seeing the cash being offered to evict you he couldn't help himself. Wanda knew he'd break easily after all Money really is the root of all evil.
When she saw you sobbing at the kitchen table, shaking hands clutching the eviction notice she wished she could comfort you and tell you it'd all be okay. To hold you tight like she did not a few days ago. Wiping the tears from your delicate face, once you were hers you'd never feel this kind of pain again. Your suffering was only temporary but still it broke her heart to see you so down. Obviously she'd never regret what she'd done. It was all for you.
When you were next in work you felt and were sure you looked like hell. All your energy had been spent trying to find somewhere new to stay but all properties nearby were so expensive or just boxes. Your regular floral dresses had been replaced with knit sweaters and plain black trousers as if this was your autumn, the beginning of your end. When you saw Wanda it didn't help the way you felt when she appeared more put together than usual, her suits crisper somehow and jaw sharper as if while your life fell apart hers had blossomed.
"Darling, you look ill has something happened?" She asks with a practised act of sympathy, she already knew exactly what had happened after all she'd orchestrated the undoing of your life.
"My landlord evicted me for no reason and-.. and-.." You felt yourself becoming choked up as you struggled to tell Wanda what had happened. She picked up on your feelings almost as if in tune with your mind and quickly pulled you into her before beginning to stroke up and down your back in comforting patterns.
"Its okay, I'm here darling. Nothing bad will happen just tell mommy what's wrong." Your eyebrows raised at what she called herself but for some inane reason decided against questioning her.
"And.. I cant find anywhere to stay and my-.. m' cats are still missing and I'm gonna be homeless." She knew youd begun crying when she could feel damp on her blouse where your head lay. Wanda pulled your head back to face her and stroked across your cheeks in such a gentle fashion that you felt you legs may give out beneath you.
"Well you could always.. nevermind it wouldn't be appropriate." She says with pause to look down at your face. "Oh screw it. I can't stand to see you go homeless over some stupid eviction, y/n if you wanted you could stay in my home until you find somewhere permanent." What Wanda hadn't quite anticipated was the way your eyes lit up at the suggestion, she thought you'd have needed much more convincing than you did.
"I.. if your sure it wouldn't be a bother."
"Sweet girl you could never bother me."
That night Wanda took you over to her house and gave you a tour. It was the biggest and fanciest place you'd ever been. More things existed than you thought one person could need. She had everything from pools to inside tennis courts, acres full of forest land to a sauna. You finally understood what it must feel like to be rich. Wanda claimed her guest rooms were under renovation so you'd have to share her room for now. When you accepted sleeping next to her she was so ecstatic she could barely hide it behind the mask of sympathy anymore.
#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda x you#wanda marvel#marvel#mommy wanda#wanda maximov#mommy wanda x reader#wanda x fem!reader#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wanda mcu#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda maximommy#wanda maximilf#dark!wanda?#dark!wanda maximoff#dark!wanda#obsessive Wanda#dark!fic
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“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.
synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.
likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#happy mom day :] !!#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyorev x reader#tokyo rev angst#tokyo rev fluff#tokyorev fluff#tokyo rev headcanons#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev#tokyo rev imagine#tokyo rev x reader#bonten x reader#bonten#mikey x reader#ran x reader#sanzu x reader
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Monster in the dark
Demon x chubby fem!human || chasing, dub-con (almost cnc), breeding, cum play, tail play
There wasn’t anyone in the street. You knew you should have taken the longer path, it took you all around the neighborhood but at least it was always crowded with people shopping, talking, walking around... anything. There were always people there, but instead you choose the fucking short path, going through the less light part of the neighborhood. You hated the dark with passion, but you were in a hurry, your favorite show was about to start and you didn’t want to run into anyone and risk them stopping you.
But apparently you were out of luck. "Hey dude!" Someone called out. You didn’t turn around. You walked faster, trying to get to the end of the long street where at least the lightbulbs weren’t flickering. Your anxiety was spiking, your heartbeat so loud in your ears you were scared someone could sneak up on you. A shiver ran down your spine when a cold breeze blew past you. A bad feeling creeping out on you.
"Hey you! I need a little help!" You turned around trying to decipher if your possible attacker was close enough that you should run faster. You knew you shouldn’t have done that. It was scary movies 101 to never turn around when something was chasing you. But maybe they were hurt or something. Your big heart betrayed you. You turned around completely, but there wasn’t anybody in sight. Just empty space. Confused you kept walking, almost running, but not entirely.
“Hey darling! The one with the cute butt, I need some help!” They called. What? Your anxiety was through the roof. The lightbulbs started to flicker like crazy, some of them even exploding, engulfing the street in darkness. You screamed and started to run as fast as you could. Which wasn’t so fast.
You ran and ran, the street seeming longer than ever. You prayed to whoever was listening to let you make it. To let you run fast enough to get to your house. Then you heard something similar to a growl, a primal sound that made your blood run cold and your body fuel with a fear so profound that it made your insides twist.
"Caught you!" Someone said as you felt a hand closing down on your shoulder. "Why are you running?" You were scared to turn around, but the stranger made you twist your body either way. The sheer force in that one point of contact made your fly or fight response activated. "Don't worry, darling, I just wanna talk."
You turned around and saw nothing. Not a peep. But the hand on your shoulder was there. The voice was there. You could feel it. You could feel a presence there. What the actual fuck. Your heart was going to get out if it kept beating like that.
"Oh, shit, sorry! I forgot humans couldn't see me in this form." And right before your eyes a tall figure appeared. Just like that. There was nothing, and then there was a big as fuck man. So big you have to look up. And up. And up. Your neck hurt from looking at his face. "Better like this, right?" He asked, the black tendrils around his body shimmering as he smirked. His mouth was too big, too wide, he had so many teeth you couldn't even process it. And they were sharp, so fucking sharp. You shivered. "Oh, darling, don't be scared, I'm not gonna eat you." You thought he added maybe under his breath, but your heartbeat was deafening in your ears.
“Wh- what are you?” You got out, your body frozen in place.
“A poor demon who needs your help.” He told you, his face trying to mimic a grin, but contorting in a creepy way, making you shiver.
“With- With what?” You asked, your body sending all kinds of alert signals to your brain.
“With this…” He whispered as he pulled your body against his, his erection rubbing against your stomach. “I need a sweet human pussy to help me with this, and your luscious body looks delicious. Perfect to breed.” He answered, making your blood turn into ice. And your body started to respond, trying to fight his hold, unable to do it.
“No. Stop. Let me go!” You struggled against him, but his hold was too strong.
He turned you around, pressing his front against your back, black tendrils coming around you, caging you. They started to touch every part of you. The tendrils and his hands moving freely over your body, groping your tummy, your tits, your hips, your ass, rubbing your pussy… There wasn’t a centimeter of you that was left untouched by him. You tried to scream, but his hand covered your mouth. “Don’t do that, baby.” That pet name made something inside your brain react. Could it be?
You talked with your demon boyfriend about wanting to try some CNC a couple nights back. He didn’t react to what you said, just kept listening as you listed your personal kinks. But this couldn’t be him, could he? He was a demon, but you never saw him like this. You couldn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe you had a magnet for weird monsters who wanted to fuck you. Fuck. You couldn’t know. What if he wasn’t? What if this stranger fucked you and you realized later it wasn’t your boyfriend. What if a weird monster took advantage of you in the middle of a dark street?
You knew you should have taken the long path.
The anticipation and the fear mixed inside of you, making your stomach drop and your fight response kick in. You bit the hand around your mouth as hard as you could. The monster moaned and rubbed his hard cock against your back. It was so big, too big. There was no way that would fit inside of you.
He used his tendrils to manhandle you into the air, lifting you so his cock rested between your ass cheeks. Your feet didn’t touch the ground, you were completely suspended, at his mercy. You regretted putting on a dress this morning, making his advances so easy now. You felt the cool air hit your rear as he lifted the back of the dress, exposing your almost naked ass.
“Aw! Look at that, you are wearing the prettiest thong. I bet your boyfriend loves it, too bad he’s not going to fuck your pussy tonight. I am.” His voice went so low in tone that it sounded distorted, making your insides tingle. To your shame, making your pussy tingle, too.
He moved the thong aside, pushing two fingers in right away, his claws pointy, dangerous. Your walls contracted against his fingers. “Someone is excited…” You blushed so hard you could feel the blood in your cheeks. “You like it, don’t you? Of course you do, you are a proud monsterfucker, aren’t you? I saw you with that demon boyfriend you have…” He whispered against your ear. You shivered, feeling humiliated as you moaned when his fingers hit your G-spot. “You are so wet and so hot… I’m going to enjoy your slutty pussy.” He teased, a tendril flickering your clit harshly, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.
He didn’t wait, he didn’t care about you or your comfort. He pushed his dick inside of you in a fluid motion. As far as it could go. You could feel he wasn’t fully inside, his dick too big for your human pussy. But he didn’t seem to care about it. He started to fuck you hard and deep, hitting all your sensible places at once as his hands groped your tits over your dress, not caring if you screamed. Shame filled you as your pussy got wetter and wetter around his assault. You tried to struggle, but your forces bleed out every time he hit your G-spot. Fuck.
“Are you going to be a good breeding bitch for me? Are you going to keep fighting as I fill your pretty little cunt with my cum until it overflows?” You moaned, embarrassment filling you as your pussy pulsated around him. “You like that, don’t you? You try to fight but you are enjoying this. You are enjoying to have a monster’s cock deep inside of you.”
“N-no.” You choked out, the moan you let out after made your words pointless. He laughed harder, the movement of his body making his dick go a bit deeper.
“Yes, you do. You love to be a little human cum-dump for me. I bet you’d love if I fucked you harder.” He speeded up, setting a punishing pace that made a chorus of ah ah ah leave your mouth. He didn’t try to cover your mouth anymore, clearly enjoying the sounds you were letting out. You felt like the bitch he called you, enjoying as someone took advantage of you in the middle of the street. Anybody could come and see you there, exposed, being fucked by a monster, acting like his personal fleshlight. His cumdumpster.
“Prepare yourself slutty human, I’m going to cum so deep you are going to taste my cum.” His words were nasty, so dirty you wanted to say something, anything. But instead it made you moan, turning you into a mess.
And then you felt his cum hitting deep inside, so much of it you felt your lower abdomen bloating. “Look at that, you are so full… Poor little human, let me help.” He laughed cruelly, pushing against the bulge there, as cum gushed out of you, trying to escape around the cock still buried inside of you. Some of it came out, making the filthiest sound you ever heard, accompanying his laughter. He pulled out at that moment, his hand still on your abdomen, making a splosh sound as what felt like a river of come dripped down and hit the pavement under you. “So messy…” He chastised.
He lowered his hand, collecting some of his cum gushing out. He played with it, spreading it around your pussy, pushing some inside again. You groaned and moaned, his tendrils holding you in place as he played with your pussy like it was his personal toy. He took some of the cum and rubbed your clit with it, the most delicious friction taking you to the edge. It was dirty, so dirty… And then he took his hand away. You whimpered loudly and he laughed at your pathetic slutty act, slapping your pussy hard and making your eyes roll inside your head. You came, right there, right then. You screamed at the top of your lungs, his laughter fading into the background as your brain blacked out for a couple seconds.
You came back slowly. He lowered you to the ground, his front to your back and tendrils still around you. “Told you it would be fun!” His voice was back to his normal tone, making you relax, finally recognized your stupid boyfriend’s voice. He never showed his full demon form, just giving you glimpses of it through the months you dated. It came in handy for him today, you guessed, anger rising inside of you.
“You didn’t say you were going to use your fully transformed form. You scared the crap out of me, you ass!” You yelled back at him, your eyes still teary and your voice raw after the screaming marathon you just had.
“Hey! Don’t lie to me, you like my ass. And I definitely love yours…” He smirked, his hand groping your ass. He kneaded your ass cheeks like he was making bread, chuckling when you tried to pull away. You knew you were going to have some pretty nasty bruises the next day. He would love that. To have you all marked.
“I hate you.” You whispered, trying hard not to moan as he pulled on your thong’s string, the fabric rubbing your asshole and abused pussy in the best possible way.
“Aww, baby, don’t be like that.” He said softly, placating. His lips trailing kisses along your neck. “But you looked so good running away from me, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Also, your booty moves so nicely when you run, and your tits were bouncing like you were an anime girl.” You didn’t need to look at his face to know he was smirking like a madman.
“You are nasty.” You told him, reaching back and grabbing his balls, hard. He just moaned. You knew he liked the pain.
“You love when I’m nasty.” He teased you. He was right, you couldn’t deny that. “Can I fuck your asshole next?” He mumbled, rubbing his still hard dick against your back. You looked over your shoulder at him, trying to decipher if he was kidding. He wasn’t.
“You give me the scare of my life!” You repeated, mad at him for being so heartless, but deep down loving how shameful he was.
He didn’t look guilty at all. “You came either way. You loved to be my prey, didn’t you baby?” He teased, tendrils coming around your body to hold you tight against his embrace. You mumbled about how mad you were, not really meaning it. “Does that mean I can’t bend you down and fuck your ass?” He asked again in a pouty voice. You hesitated, and he took that as an invitation to move your thong to the side again, teasing your asshole. He pushed his traveling tail up your hole, circling it. You tried to push him away, but he just laughed and moved it to collect some of the mixture of his seed and your juices. He used it as lube as he pushed the pointed tip inside you, making you moan. “There she is, my lovely slutty girlfriend.”
“Take me home first, at least.” You told him, already giving in to the pleasure you could feel building for him pushing his tail in an out, just the tip, but it was enough to make your pussy tingle all over again. His cum was still coming out of you. He always came in what felt like buckets.
“But I don’t wanna wait!” He complained, fucking you faster and holding your hips flush against his body. You pushed back, making his tail go deeper, his laughter almost cruel.
“Don’t be a brat. Take me home.” You choked out, already feeling the signs of an orgasm building. You didn’t want to be caught, and you already pushed your luck too far tonight.
“Can I fuck all your holes if I take you home?” He tried to negotiate.
“Ugh, fine.” You tried to fake the annoyance, but you knew he saw right past your facade. Who were you trying to lie? You loved when he was so shameless, you loved when he used all of your holes as you were nothing more than a human fleshlight for him. And specially, you loved when he used his prehensile tail to fuck your ass as he pushed his dick inside your pussy. Fuck. You were so close.
He lifted you up and carried you home, his tail still fucking your hole sloppily all they way there, bouncing you over him and staring at your tits.
You came two more times before you reached your bed.
#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster boyfriend#monster x reader#demon#demon x human#demon x reader#chubby reader#chubby reader x monster#demon x chubby reader#monster fuqqer#monster fudger#monster kink#monster lover#terato
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general yandere headcanons - ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday
notes: gn! reader. yandere! ratio, boothill, aventurine, sunday [separate]
cw: general yandere themes - obsessive & possessive behavior, stalking, abduction, manipulation, blackmail, brainwashing
words: 2250
a/n: one of these is longer than the others. can you tell i have a favorite?
VERITAS believes genius comes in many forms, and you exhibit some traits that could qualify you as being one. Whether or not you're a scholar, your ability to listen intently, ponder things deeply, and uphold meaningful conversation captured his attention and landed you in his favor. He thinks highly of you, and finds himself eagerly awaiting the next time he can poke your brain about some complex topic you feel like you aren’t equipped to comment on, but do so anyway at his insistence.
His obsession with you isn't apparent at first, not even to him. He tells himself it's simply in a scholar's nature to learn more about the things that intrigue them, and you're not special just because he seeks out information on you wherever he can. His research ends up paying off when he finds out that you desire more than the quaint life you've made for yourself, and he personally extends you an invitation to Veritas Prime.
When you accept, he insists that you attend as many of his lectures as humanly possible. Even if it doesn't align with what you're studying, he convinces you to show up anyway, fabricating some argument for how it will be useful for you in the future. Normally he'd be irritated with himself for giving a lackluster lecture, but he can hardly blame himself for being distracted when he has your undivided attention for hours on end. He's addicted to it, the way your eyes lock with his, the way you hang on to every word leaving his mouth.
Not that any of this is obvious to you. No, from your perspective, he's harsh and critical, always undermining your intelligence by insisting you need additional lectures and overseeing your studies himself. Obviously, he doesn't put much faith in your competency and thinks you'll fail unless you're being handheld the entire way. He may not outright insult you the way he does with others, but his "special treatment" is enough to make you feel insecure in your own abilities.
And that insecurity is a weak point he unapologetically exploits. When he feels like he hasn't seen enough of you lately, all it takes is a few bad marks from him to have you at his side, seeking out guidance and ways to improve. The worst is when he catches you spending too much time (which is any time at all) with those insignificant simpletons you call your friends. Clearly, you have too much time on your hands. Certainly you can assist him with his latest project, no? Well, if you'd rather slack off and lose all the progress you've made so far, that's fine, too.
You'll never know what his true intentions are until he's already involved in or controlling every aspect of your life, and at that point, you can't risk upsetting him. Your future success is contingent on how content you can keep him, and in this new phase of your relationship, you hardly know how to do that.
Better get to researching.
Threat Level: 3/5
Pet Names: darling, dear/dearest
BOOTHILL loves to make you laugh— it's the thing that drew him to you. He'll do anything to keep your attention on him, not caring how much of a fool he looks so long as you keep those gorgeous eyes on him. But beneath all the flirtation and humor is a deep desperation; he can't lose you, not after everything he's already lost. He stays on your home planet for as long as he can, but he has things to take care of, so he can't stick around forever.
To be fair, he tries. He makes the first few trips alone, leaving you behind to live your life— and every minute is agony. He doesn't know what you're doing, who you're with, or if you're safe. He's glued to his phone, constantly checking the news to make sure no tragedy has struck your home planet or the cozy town you reside in. Every night he wakes up from a nightmare, the sounds of bombs ringing in his ears and the illusion of your corpse still hovering before his eyes.
The next time he visits you, he takes you. You're coming with him— you don't have a choice. He can't live without you by his side, but he can't stay in one place, either. You can fight him all you want, but he's relentless, and his fear builds up into a frustration that causes him to be a little harsh. You're weak, vulnerable, and you can't be expected to protect yourself, so he has to. When he calms down, he tries to convince you that it won't be so bad. You'll get to travel the endless galaxy with the man you'd been so taken with just a few days ago. What more could you ask for?
Trying to escape him is futile. He's probably the easiest one on this list to get away from, but don't let that get to your head: he'll be hot on your trail, so you better hope those few days away from him are worth it in the end.
But with time you'll learn there is some truth to his words; if you don't try to leave him and keep him happy, then maybe you can trick yourself into believing that this is a life you chose for yourself.
Threat Level: 3.5/5
Pet Names: beau, gorgeous, sugar
AVENTURINE is like a moth to a flame, and your capacity for intimacy is the match. You're the first person in recent memory who treats him as a person, not as a commodity or a body, a wallet or another cog in the machine. Your first interaction was fleeting, but it replays in his mind every time he closes his eyes.
He watches you for some time, learning you inside and out— partially to satisfy his desire to know more about you, but mostly for leverage. He memorizes your schedule and interests, and subpoenas documents to learn more sensitive information, such as your medical history and anything pertaining to your family. He remembers everyone you interact with, making note of who's on the sidelines and who's part of your inner circle. He sees the way you openly bare your heart to them, keeping them comforted by its warmth, and he wants it all for himself. Hasn't he been denied something so pure for long enough?
He's charming in the beginning, using one of his many masks to slither his way into your mind and heart. He showers you with compliments and gifts, leaving you flustered after every single meeting. He knows exactly what you like, so it's easy to keep you fixated on him.
When you two finally make things official, he lures you into the palm of his hand. Your rent unexpectedly went up? No worries, he can start covering that for you— it's no trouble for him, really. Someone important to you had an unexpected health issue and can't cover the bill? He's got it, anything to cause you less stress. Is he sure it's okay? Of course it is. He only wants to see you happy.
When your friends start dropping like flies and even your family starts to distance themselves for you, he's by your side through the turmoil. Fate has been so cruel to the both of you, hasn't it? It's okay, he's here for you. He's not going anywhere.
By the time you catch on to his manipulation and realize he's behind your isolation from your friends and family, it's too late. You're too dependent on him, and he knows everything about you and anyone still sticking by you. Do you dare bite the hand that feeds you? Will you try to escape? Can you afford to pay the price if it all goes wrong?
What will you wager to get yourself back in his good graces?
It’s unwise to try your luck against his. Play along, and perhaps he'll show you the face that you fell for.
Threat Level: 4/5
Pet Names: babe, doll, sweetheart
SUNDAY takes notice of you because of your carefree nature. Being so trapped in his own head about the fate of Penacony and humanity as a whole, he's captivated by the way you seem unconcerned with matters larger than yourself. While you do plan for the future and have aspirations of your own, you still manage to live in the moment and take things one day at a time, possessing a liveliness he's never quite seen before, never been allowed to have himself.
He knows about you long before you ever meet him. Nightingales line every path you walk, sticking to the shadows and noting everything about you: the places you frequent, the food you like, the type of clothes you buy, your colleagues, your route home, and the little habits you have that he finds so endearing.
When he finally appears before you, you're starstruck— how could you not be? The head of the Oak Family is seated beside you at Dreamjolt Holstery, making small talk about your day and your life and your interests when he could be speaking to any of the other high-profile guests at the bar. You're flustered from the honor of having his undivided attention, and the butterflies in your stomach only worsen when he asks if it would be possible to keep in contact with you. Of course, you give him your number, and your impromptu meeting turns into another, and from there, into more.
He's so earnest in his adoration for you that you never notice how off-putting it is that he seems to already know what you like. Surely it's just a coincidence that he takes you out to all your favorite places and gifts you things that you'd been spending months saving up to buy yourself. It's nothing more than fate that you seem to bump into him at the oddest of times, on your way back home from a night out on the town, or during the day while you're heading out to meet with one of your friends.
It's only when you agree to a relationship that you start to get concerned. Describing his behavior as "clingy" would be putting it lightly; he tries to have you by his side in any way he can, talking you into attending a party with him or asking you to sit in his office at his side while he gets through paperwork. When you go anywhere without him, he's ordering a member of the Bloodhound Family to accompany you. He seems so distressed at the mere thought of you not being by his side, nevermind the thought of you being out in public by yourself— it's not healthy for either of you. Before you can even think to voice your concerns to him, he's wrapping his arms around you and reminding you that he just worries about you. The Family has many enemies, and they would be willing to use you to get to him. He just wants to make sure you're safe.
When Robin goes missing, things take a turn for the worse. He moves you into Dewlight Pavilion, and you don't get a say in the matter. If he's home, you're by his side at all times. Anything you have to tend to at this point can be done from within the comfort of the estate, and in his presence. Even if he's not there, he might as well be; the nightingales and their pervasive gaze are out in the open now, watching as you aimlessly wander the pavilion, getting lost in the maze and growing a little more desperate each time you explore your new home. You move through the mansion with an urgency, like you're searching for something.
Like you're trying to leave.
When Sunday's suffocating protection inevitably gets to you and you try to confront him, he gives you one more chance to see things his way on your own. It's a miscalculation on his end; you snap again, only this time, you manage to find an exit. You make it back to Golden Hour, but by the time you get there, there's already a group of Bloodhounds waiting to catch you and drag you back.
When you're shoved into his office, he's standing with his back to you, hands clasped behind his back. You can hear the heartbreak, the betrayal in his voice as he tells you how hurt he is that you'd endanger yourself after everything he's done for you. Out of guilt or fear, you can't tell, but you apologize and swear to him that you won't do it again.
And you won't— he'll make sure of it. Under the light of the Harmony, all is revealed: his undying love for you, your reciprocation, and the strength of his will over yours. You see it now, don't you? Everything he does is for your wellbeing. Clipping your wings while you're on the ground is just a way to ensure you'll never fall out of the sky. You're safe here, in this gilded cage he's tailored your tastes, with a kind keeper to tend to your every need and shower you with all the affection your heart could ever desire. How could you fault him for that?
You can't. After all, you don’t even remember why you were upset with him in the first place.
Threat Level: 5/5
Pet Names: angel, dear/dearest, dove
#got a little carried away with sunday's#also had more fun with ratio's than i expected#tsundere yanderes are a different kind of awful#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x you#yandere x reader#yandere ratio#yandere boothill#yandere aventurine#yandere sunday#hsr x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x reader#hsr ratio#hsr boothill#hsr aventurine#hsr sunday#ceru.writes#ceru.yan
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Last Talk
Max Verstappen x reader
"I can't believe you right now," you say with a shake of your head and a frustrating groan escaping your lips. This argument about money with your boyfriend Max seems to be never-ending. You want to be able to earn your own money, pursue your own career, and achieve your own dreams without having to solely rely on Max for financial support. But it seems like Max keeps forgetting about that.
"You can't believe me? I can believe you," Max retorts, raising his voice and causing you to flinch at the sudden intensity. "You keep grabbing extra shifts, claiming it's for the money. But you know that I have enough of it."
"Exactly, Max. You have enough of it, but I don’t," you reply. "I don't earn millions every year and just live off it. I have bills to pay, taxes to cover, and I need to buy clothes. Those extra shifts are necessary for me."
With a frustrated expression, Max counters, "You know that I can pay for all of that. You don't have to work. You can come to all my races, go shopping, and not have to spend a cent."
Taking a deep breath, you respond firmly, "Has it ever crossed your mind that I don't want that kind of life? I love you, Max, but I have my own goals and aspirations. My life doesn't revolve around you. I am not willing to give up everything just to watch your races, follow you around like a lost puppy, and be there whenever you train."
"It is just that I don't have lots of time and you grab a shift in my only day I can spend with you. It is not like your job is as important as mine." Max regretted the words the second they left his mouth. The angry look on your face transferred to a hurt one as you took a step back from Max. "Schat, wait. I didn't mean that." He tries to walk closer to you, but you won't let him.
"Don't you even try. I am just going to go." You walk to the bedroom and grab a couple of clothes and put them in your bag.
Max stands frozen next to the door, uncertain of what to do or say. He doesn't want you to go, but a part of him knows it's probably for the best. "Will you come back?" he calls out softly, but there's no guarantee in your tear-filled eyes.
"I don't know, Max." Tears fill your eyes as you walk away without a backward glance. The door closes with a finality that leaves Max slumped against it, tears streaming down his face as he realizes he may have just lost you for good. This could be the last time he ever sees you, hears your voice, feels your touch.
---
tag list: @nikfigueiredo ( I don't know if you wanted to be tagged in every story or only in certain stories. Let me know if this is not what you meant.)
#max verstappen#formula 1#f1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstapppen#mv1#mv33#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 x you#mv1 x y/n
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter Five
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Mentions of child abuse (no description), throw up (bc i need that warning lmao)
2K
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Bahrain. The season opener. And she had no idea. After her call with Logan she’d stayed away from all things racing. She’d have given anything to be driving the number fifty three car around that track and couldn’t face the fact that she wasn’t.
Max had tried to call her, but she ignored it. She was having far too much fun with Rooster and his friends to speak to her brother.
She’d never had a beach day like this. It was the sort of environment she’d never been in before, where everyone was just friends. They weren’t insanely competitive (at least, not in the way she and the people she’d grown up with were), and there wasn’t the feeling of dread that one of your friends could have your career ripped away from you and placed into their own hands at any moment.
No, the beach day with the Dagger Squad was actually fun. She hadn’t packed for her trip across the United States with the beach in mind, but Natasha had been kind enough to let her borrow something to wear. As the day got hotter she wore her old team hat, complete with her driver number. There wasn’t anything much more embarrassing than that.
If the Squad thought anything of it, they kept their opinions to themselves. No, she genuinely had fun.
Days like this with Jos Verstappen as your father were few and far between. Any spare moment growing up was spent racing or training. Even as the golden child, Max didn't get any reprieve. But Jos seemed to hate her more than anything.
(Maybe it was because he was stuck with her. She'd been taken from her mother who was deemed unfit to parent and left in his care. How he was considered good enough to look after two children, she'd never know).
(She and her mother had reconnected just before her first season, but they'd never gotten close).
When the Squad started a game of football, she'd shaken her head, insisting that she was happy watching. Besides, she didn't know how to play American football, her only experience was having footballs thrown at her before the race in Miami.
But they insisted. Bradley had taken her hands and pulled her to her feet, but she was quick to sit back down. And, when that happened, he threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded her fists against his back, but her uncontrollable laughter gave everything away.
He put her down between Bob, Nat, and Mickey. "You okay?" He asked, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.
But she was grinning ear to ear as she said, "Yeah, Roos. I'm okay."
He joined Jake, Javy and Rueben across from them, and the game began.
As it turns out, navy pilots are incredibly competitive. But that was good. Because she was, too. But they weren't competitive in the way that she was. It wasn't treated like life or death with them, not like it was growing up trying to get into racing. They wanted to beat each other but just because it was fun.
Not because they were afraid of what their dad would do if they lost.
To the Squad, the way she avoided the ball was hilarious. But then the ball landed in her hands. With wide eyes, she turned towards Bob. "What do I do?" She asked in a panic.
Bradley, Jake, Javy and Rueben were all racing towards her. This was maybe the most terrifying moment of her life (psych, it wasn't even close).
"Run!" Bob cried. So she did just that.
She tucked the football beneath her arm and ran. As it turns out, she was only fast on the racetrack. She didn't get very far, not before Bradley wrapped his strong arms around her middle and lifted her off the ground.
"Bradley!" She shrieked and tried to throw the ball to Nat.
The game was forgotten to the two of them as the others continued playing. "Not bad," he mused as she turned in his arms. That smirk played on his lips, the tantalising one that had drawn her in in the first place. "Are you sure your only sport is driving?"
"Racing," she corrected as she pushed at his chest. But she didn't put much effort into it, not quite ready to leave his arms. "Well, if my career doesn't get back on track, I'm sure I could try out for the New York Dolphins."
A groan left his lips and his head fell forward. "You're killing me here, baby," he mumbled and pressed his lips against her own.
A few beers later, as the sun set on a perfect day, Bradley led her back to the Bronco. "Can I drive?" She asked a sober Bradley, wearing a smile that was all too convincing.
"Three beers and you think you're ready for the Bronco? Someone needs to learn to handle their drink," he said, voice teasing as he pulled her around to the passenger side. Bradley kept a hold of her hand as she climbed in. As soon as she was sat, she swivelled in her seat to face him and pulled his aviators from his face.
He didn't look at her with annoyance, as she had been expected as she put the sunglasses on. No, the expression he wore was full of fondness. "You had a good day, kid?"
The nickname was affectionate, fort he times he was feeling soft with her. It was his favourite of the bunch, the one that had a dopey smile crossing her face. "Yeah," she said, leaning to the side and letting her head fall against the seat. "I like your friends."
He pushed her legs around so that she was facing forwards. "They like you too," he said, gently pulling the aviators from her face and placing them back on his own.
He climbed into the other side of the Bronco and began driving. As soon as they were on the road, heading back to his, she took the hand closest to her and put it on her thigh, a satisfied hum leaving her lips. "There," she mumbled, placing her hand on top of his own.
"You okay?" He asked again, and she nodded. He'd never seen her so quiet before. It was a new side of her, one he didn't exactly mind. But, then again, he so far loved all sides of her. "Jake said they're gonna keep the party going in The Hard Deck. D'you wanna join them?"
Again, she nodded. "Okay, kid," he said softly as he pulled into the driveway. "Let's get some food in you, first."
It was a pleasant evening with Bradley before they headed out to The Hard Deck. But, then again, most evenings with Bradley were pleasant. She showered and got changed while he stood in the kitchen, making her something to eat, dressed in nothing but his beach shorts.
it was a quick turn around, her getting showered and changed. As soon as she was dressed she silently padded into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. The smell of the sea air lingered on his skin. Heaven.
It was a simple dinner, but Bradley made the portions larger than she thought possible. She couldn't finish it all, and that was okay. After he'd eaten, Bradley jumped in the shower and got dressed into one of his signature Hawaiian shirts.
"Feeling slightly more sober?" He had asked as he pulled her up from the couch. She nodded but Bradley shook his head. "Words, baby."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Roo. I promise you I'm feeling a lot more sober." She muttered something in a language he didn't understand, something that had her giggling. At her giggles, Bradley pinched her sides. But he took her hand and led her out to the Bronco.
Her first reminder of the opening race that she was missing came the moment they walked into The Hard Deck. She spotted four screens, one on every wall. It had to be some sort of joke.
"No way," said Bradley, pointing at the first screen he saw.
She said nothing as she sat at the bar and ordered a drink. She kept her eyes on the wood of the counter top as Bradley sat beside her. The rest of the Dagger Squad were gathered around the pool table, but she couldn't face them in that moment. She couldn't face anyone.
"Which one is your brother?" Bradley asked.
Penny placed her drink down in front of her and she finished it in one go. It wasn't glamorous. She slammed the glass down onto the counter top with enough force to break it. It was a miracle it didn't shatter. "The one in front," she spat, and he turned his attention back to the television.
It was a little jarring, hearing the commentary of David Croft in a place so far removed from racing. It went a shudder down her spine as she ordered another drink.
She didn't have much else after that. It didn't feel right to be ordering gin and tonics when she knew that was how her brother would be celebrating his win.
The naval officers in the bar threw questions her way, but they didn't seem to register just how much harm that was doing. This was fine, she tried to tell herself. It could be a whole lot worse.
Every time the number three car was mentioned, she couldn't help the anger she felt. That was the fucker that took her seat. And he wasn't even performing well. That had to be the biggest piss take of them all.
As hard as the Squad tried to get her to join them, she refused. Bradley joined them for a little bit, not before making sure she was okay. She stayed sitting at the bar, her only company Captain Pete Mitchell. And what company he was. He had asked more questions than anybody else and he wasn't shy about it.
They were maybe the slowest fifty seven laps of her life. But she was coping. Bradley joined her again, a welcome distraction from the race. If anybody could tell she was bothered, it was him. So, he spoke about anything but the race.
But then she looked up at the screen. For the first time since they'd arrived at The Hard Deck, for the first time since lights out, she looked up at one of the screens on the wall.
Her father had been a haunting presence ever since the start of her karting career. Well, he was the whole reason she had a career in the first place. Because of him, she knew nothing but racing. She had no life skills, barely had the ability to take care of herself because of him.
But that wasn't why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. When you grow up the way she did, repressing memories becomes second nature when you see that person every day. But she hadn't seen Jos in months, not since the summer break in August.
It had been seven months since she'd last seen her father. All the memories, all the shit she'd suffered at his hands as a child, came back in one exhausting go.
That was why she threw up on the floor of The Hard Deck. "Shit," she whispered as she wiped at her mouth. She must have looked like a drunk idiot. "I'm so sorry, Penny, I..."
But what excuse did she have for this? "Fuck," Bradley whispered as he pulled her to stand straight. She'd expected to see sympathy on his face, but sympathy wasn't what she found.
Penny shook her head as she grabbed the mop and bucket from behind the bar. "It's okay," she said and turned her attention to Bradley. "Just make sure she gets home okay."
He said nothing as he took her out to the Bronco.
a/n: this might be my favourite chapter so far, i've got so much planned for these two (and if you've had to listen to my roo and [redacted] brainrot im sorry)
Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool
@not-nyasa
@nurse-sainz
@boiohboii
@thehufflepuffavenger1
@sweate-r-weathe-r
@hiireadstuff
@spideybv28
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#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fic#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster fluff#rooster x you#rooster fic#top gun#rooster top gun#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#tgm
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I KNEW YOU DIDN’T HATE ME.
the second part of he thinks you’re dead. requested by @lunaizhere !
word count : 1018
genre : fluff! bit of angst if you squint
pairing : alhaitham x reader
warnings : reader swears like twice, mentions of drinking, one suicide joke, kaveh’s intense match making skills (poor guy has suffered long enough)
i love you.
the second those three words left his mouth you froze, and, despite being intoxicated beyond measure, he picked up on it. pulling back from your embrace, he stared down at your face, searching desperately for any indication of how you felt towards him. your blank face, however contrary to the explosion of emotions whirring inside of you, told him all he needed to know.
kaveh seemed to have a sixth sense. for what, you didn’t know, but he always seemed to show up at just the right times, bursting in through the tavern with the declaration of “y/n’s back!”
you thanked all the archons at his timing, snapping out of your trance and pushing alhaitham into his arms.
“um, take care of him, please?”
kaveh took one look at your face and the state of alhaitham, and, being the smart man he is, took him without complaint, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the tavern. an accurate way to sum these up would simply be ‘what the fuck’.
years upon years had you regularly combatted his condescending comments and grumbles of annoyance with cheeky comebacks and toothy grins, continuously calling him “‘haitham” which would always result in him (gently) hitting you over the head in irritation (with you always managing to miss the red tinge upon the tips of his ears as the nickname left your mouth). his three words echoed around your mind.
i love you.
did he mean it? he was drunk. so, so, incredibly drunk. i mean, when someone’s that drunk, is it really them speaking? after all, the alhaitham you knew would have never collapsed into your arms, silently shaking.
another phrase came into the mix. drunk words are sober thoughts.
the next morning, alhaitham awoke with a start, a sharp pain searing through his head. the smell of coffee invaded his senses as kaveh walked into the room with two mugs, a somewhat smug look settled across his face.
“do you have any recollection of last night?”
the words triggered a dam to burst in alhaitham’s mind, memories of the previous night flooding in and, of course, the dreaded three words. he frustratedly ran his hands through his hair.
kaveh was not stupid. he knows alhaitham better than most and knew that his extra-harsh tone towards you was to compensate for the fact that he cared about you, no matter what he argued. he was also not blind, and could see the glimmer of adoration beneath your eyes, and the soft undertone of your teasing. kaveh had also, conveniently, decided to invite you over under the premise of talking through the previous night’s events with you, with the promise of “alhaitham’s not home”. he was determined. he had had it with the denial on both of your behalves and he only had to give the final push, drunk alhaitham deserved quite a bit of credit, even if he had no idea what he was doing.
you knocked softly on the door and were quickly met with a smile from kaveh. he seemed.. relieved? he invited you in before a look of ‘realisation’ spread across his face.
“i’ve just got to hand in my latest draft. i’ll be back soon.” kaveh silently congratulated himself on his acting skills. incredible, if he did say so himself.
you were perplexed as to why he invited you if he had the intention to leave, but you brushed it off and set about the kitchen to make some tea, nearly knocking over a haphazardly-placed jar in the process. a familiar voice in the next room groans “keep it down, kaveh”.
alhaitham.
you silently made your way over to the front door, twisting the door handle, only to discover that kaveh had ever-so-kindly locked you both in. “bastard” you thought to yourself. “how cliché.” you could hear steps from the next room getting closer to you. you contemplated climbing out of the windows for a moment, or even attempting to kick down the door. he was about five seconds away from seeing you standing in the middle of his kitchen. you heavily debated killing yourself, to avoid the awkwardness, before-
“oh.”
oh. that’s all he had to say? although, in fairness, you hadn’t exactly said anything either. you just looked at him, void of expression, which is arguably worse.
“what are you doing in my kitchen?”
right. you searched your mind for anything that would explain the situation without making it awkward, but your mouth seemed to work faster than your brain and replied with “kaveh told me you weren’t home and then he locked me in here.”
silence. it was almost painfully awkward at this point, but you knew kaveh, and it was almost guaranteed that he wouldn’t come back until it was assured that one of you just told the truth. it’s best to bite the bullet, right? and you wanted answers too.
“did you mean it?”
alhaitham’s features changed into an undecipherable emotion. love? hate? embarrassment? his stoic features were near impossible to decrypt.
“what you said last night, did you mean it?” you repeated, firmer and with more confidence.
you had trapped him into a corner. if he lied, he would never know if you felt the same way. but if he confessed, he faced rejection. what was worse? but alhaitham was a knowledge-seeker, a member of the akademiya that perhaps best demonstrated this trait. besides, you surely wouldn’t be here if you thought it was a lie, would you?
“and if i did?” a hint of his cocky attitude returned to his words. (anxiety was gnawing at his insides, desperate to know if you felt the same way, but he could never let that show).
fireworks set off in your mind, heart, and soul, before giving him solace with your reply.
“i love you too, ‘haitham.” you had barely uttered the sentence before your lips were captured by his in an uncharacteristically soft kiss, although what had he done in the past 24 hours that played along with the alhaitham you were used to.
“i knew you didn’t hate me”
a/n :
please request fics or drabbles or headcanons,,, literally anything
#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact x you#al haitham#al haitham x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x you#kaveh x reader#kaveh x y/n#kaveh#genshin impact imagines#genshin#sumeru boys#sumeru#angst#drunk confessions#part 2#fluff
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reluctant parents
series masterlist
penelopetrevino posted new stories
he said, 'amor, i have a surprise for you.' i'm patiently waiting to see what it is.
update: the surprise is just lando... again 🙄
penelope trevino quick, when someone says, 'i have surprise for you' what does one normally think?
rowan todd well, last time pierre told me that we got a dog, so a dog.
natalia ruiz a dog, charlie did the same thing.
zoya torres well he said 'we have a problem' and it was his parents, whom i was meeting for the first time ever.
mick schumacher considering i told freya 'i did a thing' and i had gotten angie, i'd think a dog.
daniel jones-ricciardo i got a cat the last time she said that.
daphne jones-ricciardo i got a heart attack because it was followed by the words 'i got in an accident'
penelope trevino I TOLD YOU TWO!!
lando norris but aren't i a nice surprise?
penelope trevino you have a girlfriend, spend time with her for the love of god.
bailey winters he just tells me to spend time with max and p so he can spend time with his boyfriend.
carlos sainz but amor, you love lando!
mae jones-verstappen praying carlos sainz lives to see another day.
isabella perez he may have survived appendicitis but he will not survive pissing off penny.
pato o'ward he's about to learn that you never piss off a mexican woman.
dulce perez rip carlos sainz, you would've hated to see max win another gp
gael perez rip carlos sainz, oscar can finally let out a sigh of relief
oscar piastri why am i always getting involved in shit?
lewis hamilton does carlos hate oscar because lando loves oscar and carlos wishes that was him?
fernando alonso he wants that mclaren seat back
sebastian vettel you two are the biggest instigators in this group chat.
fernando alonso it's a talent
rhys jones it's like watching a tennis match but only one cares and the other doesn't
penelope trevino BACK TO MY PROBLEM PEOPLE!
lance stroll carlos has attachment issues and lando imprinted on him like a baby duck.
pierre gasly alternative: carlos and lando have been cheating on their girlfriends with each other.
bailey winters i hate that i can actually believe that.
penelope trevino why is that actually believable?
carlos sainz we are not that bad.
zoya torres if trevor noah can make a joke about lando looking like more of a couple with his former teammate (carlos) than his own girlfriend (bailey) it's bad.
lando norris we may have a problem.
penelope trevino you think?
penelopetrevino and landonorris have posted new stories
he's crashing another date. i could probably hurt him.
i may be smiling but i need a bottle of patron to get me through the day.
she's going to kill me. mclaren you know who to blame when i mysteriously die
penelope trevino quick, say something so i won't kill lando.
rowan todd you'll go to jail?
penelope trevino not good enough
isabella perez jesus will never let you forget this.
penelope trevino we're getting there.
zoya torres you'll never be able to see little jewel again?
penelope trevino thank you for that reminder zoya.
bailey winters i can call his mom for you? that's what i tend to do when he pisses me off or i call ria and she reminds him that i wrote a heartbreaking album about him.
bailey winters and if none of that works i call max, who laughs in his face for hours on end.
daphne jones-ricciardo or you could talk to them, like normal people
penelope trevino you think i haven't tried that yet? it's impossible to get through to them daph!
dulce perez they're like his work parents, he needs them around 24/7
isabella perez personally, i wouldn't let this slide.
mae jones-verstappen throw him into the slammer!!
natalia ruiz all of you guys have third wheels that suck. i love my third wheel.
penelope trevino not all of us can have a joris natalia!
natalia ruiz at least it's lando and not like pierre, who would be an annoying third wheel.
rowan todd okay, that's my boyfriend nat.
natalia ruiz you cannot be publicly defending a man who makes 🐶 jokes or calls himself tripod
bailey winters EMBARRASSING!!
rowan todd your boyfriend would rather spend time third wheeling his best friend than spend time with you.
bailey winters
rowan todd never make fun of me again bailey.
mae jones-verstappen she was obviously starving
isabella perez somewhere on the coast.
rowan todd you two are comedians.
daphne jones-ricciardo i see now why this group chats is named what it is.
daphne jones-ricciardo you're all fucked in the head.
natalia ruiz daphne's never one to reply but she always roasts the shit out of us.
penelope trevino i'm just resigned to the fact that lando is never going anywhere.
penelope trevino he is my sea urchin.
daphne jones-ricciardo this is why lando always crashes your dates.
dulce perez it's an irrational fear daph!!
daphne jones-ricciardo NO THE FUCK IT ISN'T!!
zoya torres so many problems so little time to digest it all.
liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lando.jpg and others
penelopetrevino photo dump but half of it is me with a beer (my only company because carlos always ditches me for lando) and the other half is carlos with his true love (lando)
tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris
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landonorris i am his true love, glad to see you finally admitting it
↳ penelopetrevino go spend time with your own girlfriend. rowan's roasting her in the groupchat.
↳ pierregasly WHAT GROUP CHAT?
↳ isabellaperez ABORT MISSION!! THEY CAN'T KNOW!!
↳ alex_albon FAKE PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!!
user26 i would rather die than let this happen to me.
↳ user60 what makes you think penelope has a choice in the matter?
↳ user26 that's very true
user89 those texts from lando are foul!!
baileywinters i say we dump them and date each other instead.
↳ penelopetrevino now that's a good idea.
↳ landonorris hold up what?
↳ carlossainz55 no.
user02 and when these two get married is lando going to interrupt the wedding for shits and giggles?
↳ landonorris that's actually not a bad idea.
↳ penelopetrevino you pull that shit on my wedding day and i'll hurt you.
patriciooward personally i would run him over with my car but that's just me.
↳ landonorris STOP GIVING HER IDEAS!
baileywinters contrary to popular belief, we do actually spend time together.
↳ user57 i would've thrown hands if norizz was neglecting his relationship to crash carlos' dates
↳ landonorris why am i always getting threatened with violence?
↳ isabellaperez because you pull shit like this.
taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault
¡leclerc-s speaks!
and it's another late night update!!! woooo!!!
¡disclaimer!
this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
#leclerc-s#the honest series#formula 1#formula 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 fic#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x female oc
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poly!jily celebrating with you. maybe over you getting into your dream college/job. they would be the most supportive partners ever and spoil you rotten for your achievement i just know it
- 🦌
sorry this took me a minute, my new work schedule has me all kinds of fucked up - i wrote more of a finding out you got your dream job but i might also write a graduation celebration as well
celebration | l.e. & j.p.
pairing(s): poly!jily x reader
warning(s): alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety bc of job interviews
word count: 658
masterlist
a/n: jily would totally spoil the fuck outta their partner, they’d be so obnoxious about it
“Oh?”
It was Lily’s voice that you heard in the other room. She’d answered the phone before you could even put your book down, so you’d decided to stay sitting.
“Hold on.”
Lily’s head poked around the corner. Her long copper hair fell over her shoulder, a curtain of red as she grinned. “They’re asking for you.”
You frowned, brushing off James’ inquisitive stare and setting your things aside. You crossed the room in no time, taking the phone from her to answer it.
“Hello,” you were quick to assure the person on the other line that it was in fact you. Lily and James stared with rapt attention, eyes wide. You’d been anticipating a call about a job for days now, frazzled and frustrated after three rounds of interviews. Surely, you’d said to James, if they were going to hire me they’d have done it by now.
James drew in a sharp breath as you smiled. The light in your eyes that he loved so dearly had returned. Excitement rattled his chest. “Of course. I’ll be there.”
Your face twisted into an expression of pure relief as you turned and nearly squealed. Lily was already beaming back at you. “I got it!”
Lily cheered, opening her arms and squeezing you tight when you fell into her embrace. You could practically feel the stress melting away as you rested your head on her shoulder. James wrapped his arms around the two of you, smothering you with kisses to your head. “I’m so proud of you, sweets.”
Your face heated and you turned to look at him. He pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, the loud ‘smack’ seeming to echo through your head. Lily giggled at your flustered expression.
“It seems we need to celebrate. James, get the wine. We’ll go to dinner tonight, year? That Italian place you like?”
James waltzed away from the two of you, ready to pour three glasses as Lily pulled herself from your arms. “I knew you’d get it.” A wave of emotion rushed through you. To have the support of the most brilliant people in the world, your people, was truly a blessing you’d never take for granted. Tears turned your eyes glassy, though you were quick to blink them away. “I’m so glad the interviews are over.”
Lily laughed and laced your fingers together, pulling you into the kitchen where James stood filling three glasses. “To you, sweets. You never fail to impress us.” Lily kissed your cheek and took the glass of moscato from your boyfriend.
“My clever darling.”
You buried your face in your hands as James cooed at you. They were insufferable like this, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You alright, sweets? Surely handling a little praise is child’s play to you, hm? Would hate to have you hiding your face from me.” You reached out and gently shoved him, pretending to cringe away when he went to grab you. He gasped in mock offense. Lily hummed behind you, leaning against the counter while James all but chased after you.
“I can’t believe you’d push me away.” You removed your hands from your face to look at him. His lip was jutted out in a mock pout, but humor lined the planes of his face. You sighed, stepping into his outstretched arms, careful of the glass still in his hand.
He wrapped his arms tight around you, kissing your temple. “You’re lucky we love you.” The teasing lilt in his voice was enough to have you poking him hard in the stomach. He chuckled as you rested your cheek on his chest and grinned. How lucky you were, indeed.
+++
#marauders x reader#marauders#marauders era#james potter x reader#james potter#james potter x reader x lily evans#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fluff#lily evans x y/n#lily evans x you#lily evans x reader#james potter x lily potter#james x lily#lily evans#jily#jily x reader#poly!jily#poly!jily x reader#sapphic marauders#marauders x y/n#marauders x fem!reader#marauders x you#the marauders
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Pay it no mind
Part XIX
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.
Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII
----------------------
“So that’s what the old man wanted,” Satoru said as he took the lollipop out of his mouth and held it before his eyes. “Did you accept?”
Gojo had been hanging out with you in the teacher’s room when you were called for a meeting with principal Yaga and principal Gakuganji, who had come to visit the Tokyo school.
You shook your head in silence.
“He said I should think about it and give him my response before he leaves in two days.” You leaned against the wall just as Satoru was doing.
He had an amused smile on his face. “What is it now? He gets bored he goes talent hunting for Kyoto?”
You and Satoru had both been teaching at the Tokyo school for little over a year, and during that time, Yaga had told you once or twice that you could teach at Kyoto if you wanted to, they were sort of understaffed there as of lately and it would be a good opportunity, and you had always refused him, but when the offer came from Gakuganji himself, why had you not said anything immediately?
“So, are you going to think about it?" Satoru’s voice interrupted your thoughts, just as the image of him would always interrupt them whenever you had thought of leaving, of taking a different path.
In your early twenties, there were still many paths you could take, but you knew the same did not hold true for Satoru. You could be offered a position in Kyoto or assigned anywhere else, but Satoru could never leave Tokyo for the long-term, he was needed there more than anywhere.
“Do you think I should?” you asked him.
As much as Satoru wanted to say he would support any decision you made, he did not really like the idea of you moving to a different city. Even if Kyoto was not awfully far away, it would still probably mean that he would not see you as much, so what he said instead was:
“If you feel like you can’t handle the curses nor the students here, yeah, sure, think about it.”
He was smirking mockingly, and you knew he was just joking, but the side gaze he was giving you seemed to indicate he did not want you to think about it.
“It’s you the one I can’t handle here. Good luck to the one who has to keep you in check when I leave.” You nudged him.
“If it worries you that much, you should stay,” Satoru said and put the lollipop back in his mouth. His tone was as playful as before, and his words sounded lighthearted.
You two bantered a little more before both of you had to go to back to your students, but before you parted, he said:
“You love this city, and the students love you, and I... " For a second, you thought he was going to say he loved you too, but what he said was "I think you should stay here too.”
And so you did.
Had Satoru ever felt bad about telling you to stay? He had sometimes doubted he should have done it.
Had he been happy when you had stayed by his side while you bid farewell to Gakuganji two days later? Very.
***
When you opened your eyes, it took you a second to remember why the bed felt different. It was not your bed but Satoru’s, and the form next to you was the owner of the bed himself.
After coming back in, you had gone to sleep. Satoru believed that, since his bed was big enough to fit both of you with some room in between, you could just share it, but there had been two factors you had not considered : 1) Satoru was a clingy sleeper, and even if he had laid down on the other side of the bed, it would not take him long to roll into your side and put an arm around you, and 2) how flustered you would be when he did it.
It was a habit, and you had never considered it more than that before. Even when you were younger, Satoru would just lay down next to you, usually leaving some room between the two as to not purposefully touch you, but when he was asleep, he always ended up pressed to you.
Maybe he unconsciously searches for warmth when he sleeps.
Some time ago, the last time you had slept in Satoru’s room because he had been intoxicated and ended in a similar situation, you had been trying to get over him. Now you could not help but wonder if this could be what life would be like for you two if you were together. Would you spend more time at his place or at yours? Would you sleep together every night? Would he kiss you goodnight and snuggle next to you instead of awkwardly getting under the sheets on the opposite side of the bed as he had done today?
Would we be happy together?
You turned on your side to take a better look of Satoru with the little light that filtered from outside, but the movement seemed to awake him.
“What is it?” his voice was soft and if he noticed the way his arm was wrapped around you, he did not show any intention of removing it. “Can’t sleep?”
You shook your head. “I was just wondering if we would be happy.”
He smiled lazily and blinked slowly as if his eyes wanted to go back to sleep. “We have been happy, haven’t we?”
We have, you thought. And didn’t someone said once that if something works, you should not try to fix it?
You looked at him, his eyes that held the skies in them, his sharp features that could look so soft when he was relaxed like this, his lips that had touched yours a few times and had felt as soft as they looked.
“I know, but don’t you think things will change if we…?” you stopped talking realizing Satoru had closed his eyes again, likely giving up against the need for sleep.
But when you moved lightly under his arm, you heard him murmur “We will be happier, I know it.”
And maybe it was the way he was holding onto you or how comfortable it felt, but you believed him.
***
“Are you alone?” Shoko’s voice came soundly and clearly from Satoru’s phone, and he directed a quick glance at you to see if you had heard it.
Why would she ask him that?
You appeared to understand his look as a cue to leave him alone in his living room and Shoko took his silence as an indication that he was indeed not alone, so she continued.
“Are you with [name]?”
Satoru finally spoke. “They just left the room. Were you trying to reach them?”
Shoko seemed to hesitate for a second. “No… I just wanted to check if they were taking missions tonight. If they are with you, it should be fine.”
“What do you mean?” Satoru thought it odd that Shoko called for that. Why had she not called you instead?
“Gojo, I think there is something you need to know about.”
----------------------
Note: Huh... Realizing now that I'm not consistent when it comes to parts' length. Anyways...
Thank you for reading!
@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x y/n#jjk drabbles#jjk fanfic#gojo fanfic#gojo x you#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo fluff#or maybe angst?#pay it no mind
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