#and when he's just like 'okay?? why??' they were more than happy to give him an overview of the past two seasons
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the girl next door 24
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first.
You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new.
You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook.
You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods.
“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.”
You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more.
“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks.
You shrug.
“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?”
You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton.
“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.”
You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless.
“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.”
He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings.
“Pretty,” you say.
“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.”
You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.
“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?”
You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head.
“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?”
You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?
“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book.
Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking.
“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence.
You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter.
“I’ll walk from here,” you insist.
“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.”
“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins.
“Maybe.”
You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence.
“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.”
“Oh,” you bat your eyes.
“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.”
“I... went for a walk.”
He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead.
“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.”
“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture.
“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?”
“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?”
Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you.
“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.”
“Talk?” You swallow dryly.
You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both.
“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.”
You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table.
“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”
You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze.
The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him.
“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.
You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass.
“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...”
He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown.
“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her.
“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...”
You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further.
“Maybe... I’m not that good.”
“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.”
You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid.
“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing?
You croak, “okay.”
“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight.
“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.”
You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh.
“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.”
He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory.
“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.”
You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it.
There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed.
He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors.
“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.”
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#series#the girl next door#au#silverfox au#mcu#marvel#captain america#avengers
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contents: fluff, post-war arc canon, pregnant reader, reader and kakashi are married and already have four children (if it isn't obvious yes i want to give him a baseball team), selfship-coded. wc: 0.7k
happy mother's day (or just normal sunday) to everyone 💕
“Papa.”
Kakashi made a big show of ignoring the little whisper, comfortably sighing and rubbing his face into his pillow. Two tiny hands pressed into his shoulder and started violently shaking.
“Papa!”
You suppressed a giggle and pretended like you were still fast asleep. Kakashi quietly exhaled the laughter caught in his throat before turning and looking into the expectant eyes of his three-year-old son.
“Yes, Obi—”
“SHHHHH!” The boy stared down at him with more exasperation than such a tiny face should be able to muster. “Don’t wake up Mama.”
Kakashi happened to know that you were wide awake, still fighting the belly laughs that would give you away. Beneath the blanket, you curled your fingers around his forearm to stabilize yourself.
“Why should I be awake when your mother is allowed to sleep?” Kakashi whispered to his son.
The boy rolled his eyes and sighed in a perfect recreation of Kakashi’s own younger self. “Becaaauuusee.”
Another little voice piped up from beside the bed. “It’s Mother’s Day.”
“We want to make breakfast for Mama,” a third voice chimed in.
Kakashi contorted himself just enough to see two more of his miniature self peeking over the edge of the bed, all messy silver hair and dark eyes.
Seems they planned a joint attack.
“Oh, that’s so nice of you,” he answered, dramatically yawning and snuggling back into you; his face tucked into your neck and his hand cradling your belly. “Well, you know where the kitchen is.”
Two little hands grabbed Kakashi’s face and forced him to turn away from you. Then he felt his son’s tiny uncoordinated baby fingers prying his left eye open. “Papa!”
“We need your help!”
“There’s three of you and only one of me,” Kakashi reasoned. “I would only get in your way.”
“We can’t use the stove!”
“Mmmm that does pose a problem.”
“Are you getting up or not?!”
The boys were making enough noise to wake the whole village. Kakashi couldn’t help but smile at the way they already embodied teamwork, if only to get their lazy dad out of bed. “Tell you what, let me go check on your baby sister, and then I’ll meet you three in the kitchen.”
“Okay!” the triplets answered in chorus before rushing out of the room in a thunder of tiny pattering feet (and hands; an interesting result of sometimes using ninja hounds as babysitters).
With the coast clear, you let out a few giggles as you turned over to face Kakashi. “Good morning,” you beamed.
Kakashi hummed and kissed the tip of your nose. “Didn’t you hear? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Like that was gonna happen,” you laughed.
“We’re going to have to work on their stealth skills.” Kakashi pulled you in for a proper kiss, enjoying the warmth of your body for a few more moments before rolling out of bed. “Maybe you can fall asleep again before they come back.”
“No way! I’m too excited to see what they have in mind. Go on; don’t keep them waiting.”
Kakashi rolled his eyes, taking an extra minute to kiss your slightly swollen tummy before finally getting out of bed to chase after his sons.
Just as you were starting to worry that the breakfast had become more of a chore than your husband could handle, Kakashi pushed open the door—your infant daughter in one arm and two plates balanced on the other.
“Mama! You’re already awake!”
“Did Papa wake you up?!”
“No, ‘Kumo. I just woke up a minute ago,” you grinned.
The triplets climbed into bed and surrounded you, all but ignoring their father’s warnings to avoid crawling over your stomach. Once they were settled, Kakashi placed your daughter in your arms so she could be fed.
“There’s no room for your plate,” he laughed.
“I’ll feed you, Mama!”
“No, me!”
“I counted the strawberries!”
“Well I stirred up the eggs!”
“But I picked the plate!”
“You’ll have to take turns,” Kakashi interjected, patting each boy on the head to calm them down. They each quickly scooped up a bite of food, racing to see who would be ready first.
Kakashi’s eyes drooped with exhaustion, but the contentment he truly felt at the scene was written all over his face. Then he looked at you, and that contentment morphed into pure joy.
“Happy mother’s day, Y/N.”
#kakashi x reader#kakashi fluff#cw children#cw pregnancy#he has a breeding kink and i have no self control#kakashi x reader fluff#kakaly lore#adventures of the tiny rivals#rookie wrote#cw mother's day
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pseudo-incest cattonquick???
like, ollie's parents were pam's friends, and when they died, pam gossiped all about it to elspeth, and out of the graciousness of her heart, she took the whole family to the quicks' funeral. there they saw oliver, and because he's so obedient and good and polite and traumatized, elspeth thought, oh, another project i can fix, and another child i can put my projection onto. why the hell not?
so oliver was raised by the cattons, and he easily won felix over, but it was a bit hard to get close to venetia. farleigh was surprisingly the easiest to befriend, because that boy just needed love and oliver had had that in abundance from his late family. james and elspeth loved him because he was so different than their unruly children. it's all nice and fluffy and happy because sue me, i want the fluff.
then, then, they grew up and at first, it wasn't something to worry about. oh, they were brothers, they grew up together, of course felix and oliver loved each other, would help and give each other everything. but also, and this only venetia and farleigh saw, they were willing to burn the world, to come back to each other's arms.
it was easy to overlook, if one didn't know what to look for. but felix, sweet felix and his savior complex, with all the affection one could give, loved so hard that it was suffocating to be in his arms. but that was alright, because ollie liked the feeling, liked the breathlessness of it, liked being suffocated by felix's love. it was alright, because he was used to it since their childhood.
it was okay, even if they sat closer than what was acceptable, even if they slept on the same bed because oliver often had nightmares, even if they didn't have friends except for venetia and farleigh because both oliver and felix didn't deal well with jealousy, even if they only had each other because it was all they could ask for.
it was okay, even when felix's first girlfriend ran off screaming profanities when oliver blatantly said that he didn't like her and felix put his opinion first and foremost; okay, even when oliver never had a girlfriend or boyfriend because all his time was hogged by felix; okay, even when they were wrapped around each other so tightly that there was no space allowed to be between them.
it was okay, even as they grew up and saw that what they had between them wasn't normal, or necessarily healthy, but that wasn't a concern because, hey, they had each other from the very beginning. and then, when felix punched oliver's first boyfriend, and locked oliver in his room for kissing someone he didn't approve of, it was also okay, because oliver understood, felix didn't know how to share, and it wasn't like he'd like it either if a girl or a guy hit on felix.
then, felix, with all the love he could muster, realized that it didn't matter when it came to himself, it would be just one night stands and it wouldn't matter, but poor oliver wouldn't have been able to handle that because he loved with his entire heart. felix couldn't see him get hurt, he had to do something. so he did, by protecting oliver, by chaining him close, by loving him so he'd never feel the need to ask for another's love.
elspeth and james didn't know how to handle it, so they didn't, so they let it be. even farleigh wasn't allowed to come between them, because the more felix grew up, the more he realized that other people could have coveted what oliver had always given so freely to felix, and he didn't like that. he wanted to be the only one oliver ever had the feelings and eye for. venetia understood since the start, but she knew that it'd be messy if she was involved, and it wasn't like felix or oliver would ever listen to her if she were to tell them to separate themselves from each other. so she just watched the trainwreck with a bottle on her hand.
it all came to a head when felix had a fight with oliver, because oliver accused him of being unfaithful, for dating girls left and right when they went to college, without asking oliver's opinion first, and felix felt guilty but he was too stubborn to accept the blame. so they fought, didn't contact each other, but when felix finally accepted that he had to apologize, he found that oliver was being flirted with by a girl. he had always been taught to not hurt a girl, but at that moment, he was so enraged by oliver's audacity to allow this thing to happen, and he was so, so afraid that oliver would leave him for someone else. he had always felt that way, but it was so different now when they had grown up. he couldn't just use the excuse of them being children for hogging all of oliver's attention, demanding his time and his love and his care, all in the name of 'family', because they were brothers and they were raised together. he couldn't use that excuse anymore because now they were on the cusp of adulthood and oliver, despite felix's wish and hopes, had his own freedom in choosing who he wanted to be with.
he couldn't handle the thought that it was someone else in oliver's arms, so he dealt with the issue in the way he knew-- eradicating the threat, and chaining oliver close to him, like he always did from his childhood into teenage years, and more. he punched the girl, and she screamed and oliver was also screaming and felix didn't understand why oliver was angry. it wasn't right for her to flirt with oliver, it wasn't right for him to flirt back. felix didn't want it, couldn't accept it.
he pulled oliver away from the commotion in the bar, drove them to his apartment, and threw oliver on the floor as he locked the door behind. they had a screaming match, accusing each other, mocking and jeering and hurling insults, hurting each other so badly because they grew up together and they knew the way to each other's hearts like the back of their hands.
"if you want to act like this, then fucking take responsibility, felix," oliver snarled, and felix, blind with rage and love and fear of being left behind by the person he loved the most, even knowing that it wasn't right, did.
they fucked and it was messy, they fucked and they hurt each other, they fucked and they realized that they were so entwined with each other that there was nothing left for someone else to come in-between. it was painful and bloody and felt more like a fight than an intimate moment. but it was the culmination of years spent together, in each other's arms, being each other's worlds; it was the height of their love, and they finally accepted that this was the only way they could ever make the other understand the length they'd be willing to take for one another.
so, they fucked, and it felt like victory, felt like regret, felt like a sweet taste of defeat, because even if they now had owned each other, it also meant they were securing the leash tightly on their necks, made by binding chains that they could never, would never break. because they couldn't survive, couldn't go on, couldn't just live life without spending it side by side. there was no one that could, should go between them. just them, oliver and his twisted love, felix and his suffocating love.
(idk where i'm going with this but i just want to put it out there. might or might not write this properly later. if you want to write it, go ahead, i give you full support.)
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Hello! i hope youre having a great day/night
I’ve recently read your fics and i do truly love them, i was here to request something if you dont mind. Feel free to ignore this if its uncomfortable for you!!
I honestly LOVE heavy angst but fluff at the end lmao, could you maybe write something rreeallllyyy angsty with jun, but with a fluff ending? I can’t really come up with good ideas tbh, but maybe a huge argument? Honestly i dont know i just cope with these stuff so anything is fine lol.
Thank you so much if youre seeing this!! Have a great day/night
ofc!! And thank youu aswell, also if the story was not what you had in mind please tell me!! Now lets focus on the ff :DDD
Rebuilding Us
idol!Jun x reader!Y/n
Angst + Fluff
🧸 Word count 🧸 : 664
🎀 Summary : Argument drives you and Jun apart. Reconciliation brings the two of you back together stronger.
🧸 - - - - - - - - - - - - 🎀 - - - - - - - - - - 🧸
Jun stood in the living room, tension crackling in the air like a live wire. You had been arguing for hours, and now, exhaustion and frustration were beginning to take their toll.
"I just don't understand why you can't see it from my perspective!" Jun's voice was raised, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the intensity of the argument.
You crossed your arms, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "And I don't get why you're always so quick to dismiss my feelings! It's like you don't even care!"
His eyes softened for a brief moment before the anger flared up again. "That's not fair, and you know it. I care more than you realize, but this—" he gestured between the two of you, "this is tearing us apart."
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and hurt. You both stood there, breathing heavily, trying to process everything that had been said. The emotional distance between you seemed insurmountable.
"I just… I need some space," you finally whispered, the words cutting through the tension like a knife. "I can't keep doing this."
Jun's face fell, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability behind his anger. "So, what? You're just going to walk away?" His voice was quiet now, laced with pain.
You turned away, unable to look at him. "I don't know, Jun. Maybe we both need time to figure things out."
As you walked to the door, you heard him sigh deeply. "I don't want to lose you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't keep fighting like this either."
You paused, your hand on the doorknob, and looked back at him. The sight of him, standing there with a mixture of desperation and sadness, made your heart ache. "I need to think," you said softly. "I hope you understand."
Days passed, and the space between you and Jun felt like a chasm. You missed him terribly, but the arguments had left scars that were slow to heal. One evening, as you sat on the couch, lost in thought, your phone buzzed with a message.
Y/n can we talk? I miss you.
You hesitated, your heart racing. After a few moments, you typed back a simple reply.
Okay.
That night, you met at the park where you had shared so many happy memories. Jun was already there, pacing nervously. When he saw you, he stopped, his expression a mix of hope and fear.
"Hi," he said softly.
"Hi," you replied, equally nervous.
There was a long silence before Jun spoke again. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said. About how I dismiss your feelings. You're right. I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I didn't really listen to you."
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. "I wasn't fair either. I should have tried to understand where you were coming from instead of just getting defensive."
Jun stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to fight anymore. I want us to work through this. Together."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. "Me too. I hate being apart from you, Jun."
He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "I love you. More than anything. Let's not give up on us."
A tear slipped down your cheek as you squeezed his hand. "I love you too. Let's start over."
Jun pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he was afraid to let go. The warmth of his embrace felt like coming home. In that moment, all the pain and anger melted away, replaced by the promise of a fresh start.
As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But as long as you had each other, you were ready to face anything together.
The night sky above was clear, the stars shining brightly as if celebrating your reunion. And as you walked hand in hand, you both knew that the love you shared was stronger than any argument, ready to face whatever came next, together.
#svt jun#junhui x you#junhui ff#jun ff#jun x reader#jun fluff#junhui x reader#jun angst#junhui scenarios#seventeen jun#wen junhui#seventeen#svt#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine
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Very weird to be in that stage where a show is grabbing hold of your brain, but you haven't finished the show so you cant interact with fandom because spoilers, and you're watching it with someone else so you can't even just keep watching until you finish
#i am enjoying watching it with a friend and tbh having an assigned 'we'll watch it now' time is prob my best chance of finishing#on my own steam i'll probably burn out in s4 or something as per usual#but like its - i figured it would be a fun little zombie supernatural detective type thing#i thought it would be fun but was not expecting to start brainstorming fanfic ideas#granted who knows in advance what shows are going to be blorbos#but like! the charismastic asshole villain has amnesia! everyone is aware he has amnesia and are just kinda like#'we kinda pity you but you still suck'#and when he's just like 'okay?? why??' they were more than happy to give him an overview of the past two seasons#so now he's just like 'oh. okay. i. guess i am a serial killer that i cant remember. how do i deal with that?'#and idk how its going to end but i have a half-drafted plot of him getting his memories back steadily and is just like#'you know i didnt feel bad about it while doing it#but if you want to get some persepctive on your life develop amnesia and look at it from purely objective standpoint.'#or other plots like the time the love interest got arrested abd was being very very concerned about potentially starting an apocalypse#he didnt want to! he desperately didnt want to! but it was a risk#but yeah if i open a fanfic it'll probably say 'oh so how X died in the series finale' or something#and then i'll just have to accept X is dead
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bestie is coming home on 1st im having thoughts
#obviously i missed her and would love to see her but seeing her brings so many complicated feelings and i hate it#i realised somewhere in the middle of a metro surrounded by a crowd that my bestfriend loves her boyfriend more than she loves me#i saw them flirt and hug and ive known her since we were 11 okay i had never seen her be so happy and calm and peaceful and CONTENT#and it made me feel yuck disgusting gross that i could never give her anything like this in years of our friendship so ofc she loves him#more than me#i used to be annoyed at her telling me about him what he did down to evey detail but there's one i can remember really well#how she was upset with him and he got angry too very angry so she thought he was breaking up with her and she started sobbing so#uncontrollably on the phone itself because she couldn't lose him and so he at like 11 pm?? he left his pg and showed up at her house told#her to come down just to give her a hug and then they went to have ice cream to make her feel better#and i just.#obviously she loves him more ivy you don't even talk to her unless she talks to you you talk once in like 2 months#she has made me realise so many things about love 😭#i think i get it love means showing up being there when the person you love needs you no matter what#like i get it's not always possible real life problems but#like he did have real life problems going out so late getting an auto not even being sure if she would come down cause she has very strict#parents#he was willing to put in all that effort just cause she was sad and that's why she loves him more than me it makes sense#but this is why i feel so scared im not even 2% of the person he is i always feel she is going to realise im an asshole and leave me#but we talk so less it wouldn't even affect me realistically#but then i would have lost all my childhood friends everyone who knew me when i was happy better than present atleast#i would have lost all friends period since i don't have any irl friends 😭#this is why i feel conflicted 😭😭😭
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#okay rant time lol. spoilers for 6x18#i think i will have to say that this may have been my least favourite of all 6b episodes#haha ik i should probably give myself time to process the episode but idk i'd rather just write everything out#i just. just yesterday i was complaining about some people treating 911 like it's the buck show and today... it was the buck show?#and like! an episode being extra focused on one character is absolutely fine!! great even!! i really enjoyed 6x11!!#but in the season finale you expect each character to get a more equitable amount of focus right?#and like. even 4x14 which had a significantly less focus on eddie than one might expect had the will scene#and maddie had a bit less focus in that episode too but even she quit her job and it was obvious she was Going Through Stuff#and these slightly restricted screentimes gave jumping off points for their respective very spectacular s5 arcs#but this episode? like it wasn't that it didn't focus on other characters but it was mostly buck#and... idk man it does make sense given that he had the longest running plotlines this season but also#i just wish we had focused more on other characters as well#and like? as for buck? the couch?#i'll be honest i'm disappointed they introduced romance this season for buck at all when the season began with him choosing to be single#i really thought he wouldn't date at all for this one season at least yk?#and yeah ik we live in an amatonormative world but cmooon a guy can have his happy ending without getting together with someone#also bucktalia feels a little odd to me rn especially given the number of false starts they had#if they'd done this exact same storyline but at the beginning of next season i'd probably love it... right now tho i'm very meh over it#as in there is potential but it's like... idk mannnn why do we need him to end up with someone at allllll... i'm too aro for this shit#starting something new this close to the end of the season instead of tying off the two arcs that were already ongoing for him#was certainly a choice#aah well. at least natalia seems good for him. she came back which is the most important thing buck would want in a partner right?#still tho. i really wish we'd gotten to know more about the new henren baby than we did#i wish we'd gotten to see madney discussing plans instead of just the exact moment where they decide they want to marry on the patio#i wish we'd gotten the entire conversation that lead up to chris hyping (or snarking at) eddie to call marisol#i wish we'd gotten bathena hurriedly packing for their trip and may making fun of them as she helps#i just wish we'd gotten more of others!!#oh well. at least we still got chimney time and captain hen and cheddie working together and hen and eddie leaning on each other#you win some you lose some i guess#anyways if you actually read all the way til down here thank you for your time hehe
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Megumi is a thigh man. You can fight me on this idc. (Nah I’d win)
In the beginning of your relationship before you guys had done anything intimate. When you were sat down, in his car, or just over in his room. He’d always have his big hand slowly rubbing your thigh. It became a recurring gesture that he never really caught on to, but you did.
So one day when you’re in his dorm, on his bed, with your thighs on each side of his face you pop the question.
“Hey gumi?”
He hums, his hand mindlessly rubbing your thigh as he reads his book.
“Why do you like my thighs so much?”
That halts his movement against your thigh, he tried to peer up at you but concluded he probably looks stupid from his position. So he gets up and is now sat in front of you with your legs still spread.
“Dunno, they’re just nice I guess.” He’s blushing, avoiding all eye contact with you.
“That’s it hm?”
He rolls his eyes at your teasing tone.
“They’re soft, I like squeezing them.”
“More than my tits and ass?”
“Yes.”
You smirk at his reply and he huffs, returning to his position with his book and a flushed face.
Megumi is a thigh man, of course, he loves when you wear those mini skirts or thigh highs, it gets him so fucking worked up.
He’s over the moon when you let him fuck your thighs, asking shyly if you could keep on the stockings and skirt. He loses all self-control, whining and nipping at your neck. “S’good” and heavy groans leave his mouth as he finally cums on your plush skin.
He loves it when he eats you out and your thighs practically suffocate him to death. He’d die a happy man if that was a way to go. The moment your thighs encase around his head he’s humping his mattress like a bitch in heat, moans vibrating on your cunt.
Megumi fucks you in a mating press, his big hands on the back of your thighs, gripping the flesh and folding you in half as he fucks his fat dick in you.
Once he’s in between your legs he can’t help but litter the inside of your thighs with marks.
One time when you were wearing a skirt you didn’t notice that Megumi had left marks from the night before. Nobara questioned if you were okay, to which you quickly lied and said it was from training.
If it was anyone else Megumi would kill them for looking down there. He pops a vein when he sees Yuuji trying to look at what Nobara is talking about. Despite being a little irked he stands behind you and wears a smug smirk, a rare sight for the three of you.
When it’s just the two of you again, behind closed doors you confront him.
“Megs! Why didn’t you tell me?” You pout and he softly smiles, pulling you to straddle him, you can already guess where his hands are.
“Sorry, kinda forgot.” He mumbles, leading your lips to his.
“You gonna let me give you some more?”
He’ll always be a slut for your thighs♡~
#—jjk#megumi x y/n#megumi x you#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi imagine#megumi drabble#megumi scenario#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro smut#megumi fushiguro imagine#fushiguro x you#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#jjk scenarios#jjk smut#jjk megumi
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MARRIED ON PURPOSE
- gojo satoru x reader
"for one, i can show you incredible things!"
jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.
genre:
marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here
note:
the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.
“Don't look that sour now, wife.”
“…sigh.”
A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”
But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.
It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.
You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?
Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.
It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.
He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.
"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."
That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.
"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.
His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.
Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."
"Who?"
"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."
Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.
"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"
"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"
"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."
At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.
. . .
BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.
At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.
"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.
"I am smiling, Gojo."
"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"
Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?
MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.
"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"
You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.
And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.
"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"
"And why?! Why should I do that?!"
"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."
"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"
"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."
Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.
The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.
You really had no choice, huh?
"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."
Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—
His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."
You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.
This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.
"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."
"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."
And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.
"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.
"The master! And the lady!"
Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—
"What's happening here?"
The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.
The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.
"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."
Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!
"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"
With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.
"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.
The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"
"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"
You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?
"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"
This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.
Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.
"You—you devil! You bit me!"
"Serves you right!"
Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.
And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.
"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"
You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"
"No, but it shouldn't—"
"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"
For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.
The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.
“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”
He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”
“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”
"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"
You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"
"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"
You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.
"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"
You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"
"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"
"News flash: temporary wife."
"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"
You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."
Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.
Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?
"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."
"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"
"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"
"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."
Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.
"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.
He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.
"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.
Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…
You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.
Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.
"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.
Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"
And what came next was like a crack of thunder.
"How insolent!"
You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—
"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."
You had never whipped your head so fast.
There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.
"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.
"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.
"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"
“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."
"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"
"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."
Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.
"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."
"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.
His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."
And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—
You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—
"Pfft, you wish."
—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.
MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.
Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.
You could only imagine what he must feel.
. . .
When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.
"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.
It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.
It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"
"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."
Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.
Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.
You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"
"Whoa, that's sweet of—"
"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."
You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.
Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?
Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?
Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.
Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.
And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.
"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."
"Heh." I really am, aren't I?
"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"
He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."
You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.
Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.
"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."
"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.
Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.
But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.
"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.
"Consider this emotional support."
And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.
How?
You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.
"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.
Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.
You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.
His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.
Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.
"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."
"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—
Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?
His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.
He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.
There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.
"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.
You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—
"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.
If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.
But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.
MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.
You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.
This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.
You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.
But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.
This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...
Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.
The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?
With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.
. . .
If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.
Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.
And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.
How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.
When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"
You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"
Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.
Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?
The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."
Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."
It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!
Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.
Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.
Why? All reasons already listed above.
Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.
With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"
His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"
"Just give me an answer."
"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.
"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"
Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.
Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"
"Hey!"
"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."
An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.
Then it’s sealed.
Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.
The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—
“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”
Riiip~
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.
“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”
You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.
“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#jjk imagines#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x you#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo#—⭐️ chu’s 1k milestone event
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would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹
You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve.
“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you.
“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple.
“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.”
You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling.
“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you.
You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?”
“No. They gave me tramadol.”
Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper.
Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why.
The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day.
“You okay?”
“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod.
“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.”
“I’m your Unit Chief.”
“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”
He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.”
You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you.
You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.”
“I wish I did something that sensible.”
You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle.
“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.”
His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.”
“Not enough.”
“No, I guess not.”
You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder.
“It wasn’t purposeful.”
“No? That’s good.”
“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.”
“Morgan’s a big boy.”
“As opposed to me.”
“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”
“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.”
“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.”
Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess.
“I don’t like him,” you say.
“As opposed to me.”
You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek.
“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say.
Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.”
It’s an obvious lie.
“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested.
His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully.
“You can finally get some rest.”
He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Can we get one of Alastor fucking you in his radio booth and broadcasting it to fuck with Vox~ pretty please with a cherry on top💕
God thank you so much for your request and this idea, it really inspired me so much and I might do even more with this cause I find it inherently hot hehe. I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the first part of Alastor x Fem!Reader x Vox and I'm a degenerate so I wrote a second. I hope you guys like it too! Enjoy my fellow degenerates! o/
I would also like to thank @wipmoop for their amazing art cover for this smut! They're truly the best you can check them out !
And with this, I present you, drumroll please :
Alastor X Fem!Reader X Vox 2 - Rematch !
Summary : You're tired of waiting for your rematch and decide to take things into your own hands. Are you ready to face the consequences of your actions ?
Warning : 18+, Smut, dirty talking, oral, oral creampie, creampie, threesome, cum swallowing, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, rough, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bondage, spanking.
Word Count : 4883 words (Yup, it's worse than the first one.)
After the events of the party Alastor brought you back to the hotel, explaining to Charlie that you might’ve hmm…had more than you could handle. She was delighted at the idea of you residing at the hotel and extended an unlimited invitation to you. You had your own room and actually enjoyed the people there more than you thought you would. You thought you’d give redemption a shot. However, you had been dreaming of your rematch with Vox and Alastor and it occupied most of your daily thoughts, as much as you hated to admit it.
It had been 2 weeks since you moved in and you hadn’t really been seeing Alastor since the party, he was a busy man after all, he was usually very polite when he saw you and would give you a hand kiss or wink at you. You hadn’t seen Vox at all since the party, but it wasn’t too surprising. Slowly, you started realizing that you were okay with what happened being a one-off thing.
This day you had just finished exercises with everyone and was chilling having some tea when Charlie exclaimed: “Oh Alastor is hosting his radio show! We should bring him some tea! Where’s Niffty? She’d be super-fast.” She looked around unable to find her.”
“She was chasing a family of roaches last time I saw her.” You explained drinking your tea. “I can bring him if you want.” You offered, not thinking much of it, but knowing the idea of seeing Alastor brought a slight smile to your face.
“Really?” Asked Charlie with sparks in her eyes. “That is such a selfless act I love it!”
“Is it?” You questioned. She nodded furiously before handing you a tray with a cup of tea, some milk, sugar, and some biscuits on it.
You left the group and started making your way to the radio tower. As you approached it you heard the demon speaking into his mic.
“And that my fellows, is why you should never trust a demon whose name starts with a V. I will return in a moment, enjoy this musical break of electro swing.”
You arrived in front of the door and knocked.
“Come in.” You heard.
You entered the room to find Alastor sitting in front of his station, his legs crossed.
“Oh, Hello Dear!” He exclaimed seeing it was you at the door.
“Hi! Charlie asked me to bring you some tea. How’s your show going?” You smiled as you entered the room. Alastor looked at you intensely as you walked past him, his smile as wide as ever, you could feel his gaze on your body, you were wearing a short red dress hugging your shape and flared at the bottom and a pair of black thigh highs. You sat the tray on the coffee table he had next to him and poured him a cup of tea.
“The show is going as well as it needs to be.” He replied coldly, pausing afterwards. “But more importantly, this dress suits you very well, I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since that night at the party.” He proclaimed calmly.
Your face flushed lightly and he noticed. He hadn’t talked about the party since that night and the simple mention of it sent back embarrassing flashbacks to your mind. Not that you regretted it.
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed. This is more casual though.” You replied, not looking him in the eyes.
“Is it now Dear?” Asked the demon searching for your gaze then looking you from the bottom up.
“I'm glad you like it." You teased then presented the cup in front of him and thought you noticed a quick glance at your cleavage.
This was enough for you to decide that you had done progress at the hotel and that meant you deserved a little reward, and if you were honest with yourself, you had missed Alastor and Vox’s touch since that night, after all, they had given you a night you could never forget as promised. You had been a good girl but now it was time to drop the act.
You lingered giving him a good look. You then asked innocently: “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He took a good look at you, almost as if he was trying to gauge your intentions. “Actually, I do, would you grab me the mic from the shelf over there.”
“Sure!” You replied smiling. You made your way to the shelf and pretended to struggle to grab the mic which fell to the floor and rolled under the shelf. You then got on all fours and bent over trying to grab it, almost exposing your parts. After grabbing it you stood back up and turned around only to be met with Alastor smiling widely, leaning on the counter of his studio.
“Are you doing okay, Dear?” He grinned tauntingly before taking a sip.
“I don’t know, am I? Here’s your mic.” You handed him the mic. He put down his cup of tea and grabbed the mic slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. He then proceeded to pull swiftly on it, bringing you with it as you hadn’t let go yet. Your body ended up pressed against his.
“You know if you had been craving my attention this badly you should have mentioned it sooner.” He exclaimed looking deep into your eyes.
“Did I crave your attention, or did you miss giving it to me?” You asked smugly smirking back.
“Oh, I can give it to you alright.” He smiled wider, his mouth an inch from yours.
“Do it then.” You smiled back, holding the fold of his jacket.
You felt his lips crash onto yours, the both of you dropping the mic simultaneously. He grabbed your hips tightly pulling you into the kiss, kissing you even deeper as he moved one hand behind your neck. He then lowered his hands to your ass before grabbing both of your cheeks tightly, pulling you off the ground, you legs locking around him instinctively. He turned around, still kissing you while holding your weightless body and sat you on the edge of the counter of his studio. He grabbed both of your wrists and laid you on your back, pinning your hands above your head. He then proceeded to kiss down your neck and onto your cleavage.
“Coming here dressed this way was your mistake.” He smirked.
“Debatable.” You smirked back.
He kept both of your hands pinned together with one of his and took a good look of your flushed, panting, and eager body. While scanning down your body he noticed something that made his eyes widen slightly before he went back to looking into your eyes with a devious smile. His second hand travelled down your body making you realize how sensitive you felt already.
“You might not have missed my attention but this part of you certainly has.” His hand then rubbed against your womanhood, making you realize just how soaked you were already as you squirmed.
“Listen Dear,” he looked at you, still rubbing your pussy, “I’m going to let go of your hands, but you may not touch anything but yourself with them.” He then let go of your hands and pussy before bending over you, resting both of his hands on each side of your head.
“Understood?” He menacingly whispered with a very serious grin.
You nodded.
“Good girl. And be sure to make all of hell know how good you’re feeling.” He smiled before removing his jacket which he threw on his couch.
“Wha-“ You were about to question but then saw him casually turn on the mic of his station. The sign [On Air] turning bright red confirming what you thought.
Alastor then proceeded to kneel in front of you and pull you closer, to the edge of the counter, he then ripped your panties in one movement and started digging in.
You immediately felt his tongue dig deep inside of you, earning a loud moan out of you as he spread your walls. The moans kept pouring as he enthusiastically ate you out, alternating between the inside and the outside of your pussy that he was eating like the first meal he’d had in days. He kept moving his tongue in motions that sent jolts up and down your body.
Before you realized, your hands had made their way into Alastor’s hair, pulling slightly as the pleasure intensified. You only noticed when the pleasure stopped. You looked down, confused, and immediately realized your mistake, letting go of his hair, as the tall demon stood back on his feet, looking at you calmly, which somehow made it scarier.
“Didn’t we agree on you touching nothing but yourself? See not only have you not touched yourself, but you’ve also touched me, and I am not part of you, yet.” He said menacingly.
“Sorry…” You muttered.
“Too late Darling, I’m afraid bad girls need to be disciplined.”
You stared at him as you witnessed him calmly removing his bowtie then grabbing both of your wrists once again, this time tying them together, in a very tight fashion.
“Good.” He exclaimed proud of his work.
And with that he resumed eating you out, this time more aggressively. You felt your walls tighten as he attacked them relentlessly, grabbing your thighs with both of his hands. Your moans were getting louder and louder as his name poured continuously out of your mouth until you felt the knot that had been building up break and the orgasm wash over your body, making your legs shake in the process.
“Holy shit…” You blurted, panting hard as you watched Alastor stand up and give you a quick kiss.
“See, you know how to be a good girl.” He whispered in your ear before licking your ear lobe. You felt his throbbing crotch press against yours.
Before any of you could add anything, you saw a glowing blue circle draw itself around the both of you.
“What is th-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt yourself fall down through what had now obviously been a portal. The radio demon fell with you, though in a much classier and composed manner, almost as if he knew it was coming.
You felt yourself land on something soft and looked around. It was a very large bed. Alastor had landed comfortably on his feet next to the bed.
“Took him long enough…” He huffed.
You scanned the room; it was very large and luxurious, like a palace. It was a giant bedroom with huge French windows, and tall wooden doors at its entrance. As soon as you laid your eyes on said doors they opened violently.
“The fuck is wrong with you !?” Yelled the handsome tall demon entering the room. It was a very furious Vox. Seeing him furious made you immediately crave him.
“Well, hello to you too.” Smiled Alastor, still in the same relaxed position.
“Why would you broadcast her for all of hell to listen to? Have you lost your mind?” He screamed unable to compose himself.
“I only did so long enough for you to notice.” He mentioned “And if you were so bothered by it, then maybe you should have noticed sooner.” He smiled wider.
“What a dumbass.” Vox walked past Alastor and arrived in front of you. He smiled for the first time.
“Long time no see y/n !” He leaned in front of you making you blush as you took a good look at his handsome figure.
“Hi Vox! I’ve missed you!” You smiled with your face still flushed from your orgasm. He held your chin up gently.
“Fuck I really missed that hot face of yours, I’m sorry you were stuck with such an ungrateful prick for so long, I knew you should’ve moved into my place instead. You’ve clearly gone way too long without getting some well-deserved action, which would have never happened here by the way.” He said that last part louder on purpose. He looked down for a second. “Dear, you are making my sheets wet already, did you really miss me that much?” He smiled looking at your exposed parts, dripping onto the bed.
“We could have settled on a date to have our rematch instead of you exposing her to every lowlife that would listen.” He turned to Alastor.
“Our dear friend couldn’t wait any longer and well I guess I had to take matters into my own hands.” He said innocently.
“You’re such a piece of shit.” Proclaimed Vox with a wide grin on his face, briefly glitching. “I see you’re unable to try and beat me without a head start you radio bastard.”
“It’s not like I was doing anything you could do anyways, Mr. Flat-screen-no-tongue.” The redhead smirked.
“Oh really?” He glitched lightly. “Sit back, relax and shut the fuck up.”
He turned to you, and away from Alastor.
“Y/n! Time to get that rematch baby! Get your ass on the edge of that bed and spread those legs for me!”
Your body moved on its own at this command, and you managed to sit up at the edge of the bed despite your wrists still tied together and sat with your thighs spread open, revealing your most intimate part which couldn��t lie about how much you wanted this. Vox looked at you intensely, taking in the sight he had missed more than he thought he had and bent over resting one hand on his knee, the other holding the bowtie tying your wrists together with a finger.
“Has someone been a bad girl~?” He teased.
“That’s entirely possible.” You smirked back. You could tell from his face he liked that. He let go of your wrists and grabbed both of your thighs tightly, making you lose your balance and fall back onto the bed. The next instant, you sensed something that felt like a tongue slide inside your pussy. It sent immediate literal jolts up your body, earning a loud moan out of you that surprised even you. You came a little from that but didnt say anything, you moved your head, looking at what was going on down there and saw a big blue tongue, sliding out of Vox’s screen and eating out your deepest parts.
“Oh wow!” You exclaimed not knowing what to make of the mix of intense pleasure, surprise and shock you were feeling. A quick glance behind Vox and you saw Alastor roll his eyes unbothered having a cup of tea on the sofa not too far. You didn’t have time to really process anything as the TV demon kept eating you out aggressively, making your orgasm come sooner than you would have expected. You had absolutely no control over how fast it was building up, you just felt it snap and felt yourself come, arching your back embracing the wave of pleasure, grabbing your dress tightly as you did so.
You felt the tongue pull out of you and giving your whole pussy a good lick before Vox stood back up, wiping his face with a satisfied look on his it.
“Fuck you’re so hot when you come.” He blurted trying to keep his composure, but you could already see his member throbbing through his pants.
“Are you done with your ridiculous endeavor? An attempt to prove what exactly?” Exclaimed Alastor in a tone he tried to portray as nonchalant, but everyone else could tell he was ticked off. “Can’t you see she comes so easily you could barely even consider it a challenge.”
That statement pissed you off because as much as you were enjoying yourself you didn’t like being underestimated.
“I had no idea my enjoying myself would make you this insecure?” You responded smirking in your brattiest tone.
“Oh, I like you more and more.” Said Vox raising his brows and smiling at you.
You could swear you noticed an eye twitch on Alastor.
“You brat…clearly if you’re still feeling this confident then we haven’t gone hard enough on you.” He declared with a wicked smile scaring you as much as it turned you on. Alastor teleported onto the bed next to you, grabbed your hair firmly into a ponytail and pulled you further into the large bed, leaving you no choice but to follow him on your knees before pulling your face close to his. Your tied hands were hanging down in front of you as you looked up at the radio demon. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.” He kissed you deeply shoving his tongue in your mouth making your head spin. He pulled away from the kiss for a second.
“Sorry Dear, I am but a terrible spectator.” He went back into the kiss making you dizzy as he pulled down the top of your dress making your breasts bounce out of it. He grabbed one of your tit with his free hand, pinching your nipple and making you whine softly.
"Now you’re going to use all that confidence you were so proud of just seconds ago and you’re going to take it all in.” He let go of you and you fell on all fours, now facing his crotch. You took a good look and immediately noticed how tight his pants looked around his cock, it almost looked painful. With your tied wrists you unzipped his pants, pulling out your reward.
‘Was it this big last time?’ you thought to yourself. A slight look of surprise covering your face for a brief instant.
“Yes, it was.” Replied the radio demon, as if he had read your mind. “You were just too eager to notice.” He finished. You blushed heavily before giving your best shot at taking as much of his member as you could in your mouth, it amounted to about 2/3 of his manhood.
“Not quite, Dear, here, let me give you a hand.” He chuckled before shoving your face down his member, lodging it all the way down your throat. You couldn’t breathe but it still felt good, you pussy was quivering and dripping, and Vox noticed.
“Damn, look at your cunt, don’t worry I gotchu.” You heard Vox who was right behind you and the moment after felt him give your ass a hard spank. That made you moan loudly, and you knew Alastor felt it when you heard a groan coming from him, you looked up only to be met with an intense and serious gaze filled with lust coming from the radio demon. His hands were both in your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, enjoying himself.
Vox stood right behind you, and you heard his pants unzip. Immediately after, you felt one of his hands rest on your hips and the tip of his cock rub against your entrance teasingly.
“Have you missed that?” He asked, lust exuding off his tone. After a few seconds of his teasing, you wanted to beg for him to insert it but you mouth was too full for that.
“Come on…” He teased, knowing he put you in an impossible position.
In one motion you pulled your mouth off Alastor’s cock and pleaded loudly. “Vox please I need your cock in me!” You looked at him with a lewd look on your face .
Seeing you in that state made him blush briefly before he composed himself again.
“Fucking finally! You’re so fucking hot!” He groaned loudly pushing all of him inside of you in one go making you scream of pleasure in the process. You immediately felt Alastor grab your hair in the same fashion he had moments ago, pulling your face close and squinting.
“Let’s not get distracted now, shall we?” He demanded sternly.
Vox felt you tighten around him as you heard those words, pulling an involuntary moan out of him.
“You naughty girl, you’re loving this aren’t you?” He spanked roughly you before starting to thrust at a rather fast pace.
“Obviously.” Declared Alastor smiling before shoving your face back onto his cock. He was the one thrusting now, in fact, they both were and soon enough, you felt that coil build up once again in your insides. Your eyes rolled back as you felt the knot snap.
Vox felt you tighten almost uncomfortably around his member as you came. He grabbed both of our ass cheeks tightly.
“That’s right, come for me!” He groaned throwing his head back and fucking you through your climax, holding your ass tightly then spanking it.
You had just finished coming when you felt Alastor pull out of your mouth. You exhaled loudly catching your breath.
“Good job not suffocating, here’s your reward.” Said Alastor grabbing your panting figure, pulling you off Vox and propping you onto his cock as he stood on his knees, you were still panting but it was now intertwined with moans as he effortlessly moved you up and down his member. You moved your tied up wrists over his head, wrapping your arms around his neck and grabbing it gently, you kissed him softly yet longingly as the moans continuously flooded out of your mouth. You felt his member grow thicker inside of you, as expressed by your moans becoming louder. Your kiss was interrupted by the TV overlord who grabbed your chin, turning your face away from the radio demon.
“Now you can’t just give all your holes away so easily my dear.” He said calmly standing bent over next to you.
“My apologies.” You replied looking up into his eyes.
“You’re forgiven.” He added with a smooth voice before you felt his lips meet yours. You were surprised at how soft they felt, and you had just found out he could do such a thing. He probably didn’t do it every day, but he was such a good kisser, you were dazzled by the kiss before he pulled out of it.
“Now open up dove, we’re not done just yet.” He grinned.
He hadn’t finished his sentence that you had opened your mouth, eagerly awaiting him.
“My god you’re such a good little slut.” He laughed not able to contain himself any longer, he pushed himself deep into your mouth and moaned loudly as he did so, you started moving your head swallowing his member to the base each time.
You hadn’t noticed because of how gradual it had been, but Alastor was now moving much faster than how he had started, hitting your deepest parts each time.
“Are you going to come again and prove me right?” Alastor smirked at you, pausing his thrusting for a moment and spanking your ass roughly. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock and stopped moving as he immediately grabbed your head and kept the thrusting going.
“Nuh uh, you can’t stop yet.” The TV demon said as he kept pumping in and out of your mouth.
You looked at Alastor from the corner of your eye.
“What is it sweetheart? The TV got your tongue?” He spanked you again this time harder. Your pussy tightened around him, and he felt it, making his grin widen even more.
You looked at him trying your hardest to stay in control.
“Aww you still think you can decide whether you come or not. How adorable…I guess it’s time I teach you this lesson.” He squinted his eyes challengingly before he spanked you one last time, harder than all the other time, this time immediately grabbing both of your ass cheeks very firmly, not breaking eye contact with you.
“I…” He slammed you against his cock. “…decide…” He slammed harder. “…if…” He slammed even harder, digging his nails into your ass. “…and when…” He slammed hard and you felt yourself dangerously close to the edge. “…you come!” He grinned, slamming one last time harder than you had ever felt him thrust in you and he saw your eyes roll back as your pussy started pulsating around his cock. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock, who pulled out just in time to hear it aloud. You were panting hard, your whole body going limp.
Vox grabbed your face and pressed your cheeks together bringing his face close to yours. “You’ll relax soon enough bitch, but we’re not done yet.” He then proceeded to grab you off Alastor and prop you once again on all fours. You were wobbly at best. “Come on are you already exhausted? After all this big talk?” He spanked you now red ass making you whine. You moaned softly and looked at him with pleading eyes. Your legs felt weak from all this thrusting and climaxing, and he could tell. He let out a soft sigh.
“Here. Let me give you a hand.” He grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder. “Now you’re going to take it like a good girl?” He looked at you his eyes focusing intensely on you.
“Yes, Sir.” You pleaded. As soon as he heard those words coming out of your mouth he felt an irrepressible urge to take you and you felt all of him enter you once more, at this point your pussy being overstimulated felt so sensitive everything felt ten times more intense. You moaned loudly while your tongue hung out of your mouth, and you gripped the sheets tightly as Vox started thrusting more roughly than he previously had.
Alastor, seeing your tongue hanging and your mouth open, took this opportunity to push himself inside your mouth and started thrusting.
“Enjoy your own taste dear, because you’re about to taste me.” He declared with a sadistic gaze on his now flushed face. You loved seeing the evolution of his boldness as lust took over.
“Shit you’re so fucking tight!” Vox thrusted hard, gritting his teeth, and digging his nails into your thigh, pulling it close against his chest as he lost himself in pleasure, his movement becoming more erratic as he glitched and he brought himself closer to the final release, nevertheless, he never failed to hit your G-spot with each thrust. You felt it coming, despite your best efforts, they both felt you tense up more and more. You still did a great job wrapping your tongue around the radio demon’s shaft, you heard his breath get shakier as he maintained composure fucking your mouth, one hand under your chin and the other in your hair.
You felt the knot about to snap as you hear them both declare as one:
“Are you ready?”
They both thrusted deep in you one last time, releasing simultaneously, filling you up from both sides as you came one last time, almost seeing stars at this point.
Alastor let out the closest thing to a moan as he emptied himself directly down your throat tightening around his member, slowly pulling himself out afterwards and enjoying the sight of your dazed expression.
“Good job.” He patted your cheek smiling and slightly panting, much more relaxed than a few moments ago.
Vox pulled out next and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, cum flowing out of you.
“Holy shit you felt so fucking good!” Vox also felt all sorts of dizzy after his orgasm. He quickly got a grip and they both grabbed what was necessary to clean you up, laying you down comfortably after Alastor removed his bowtie from your sore wrists and Vox handed you one of his shirts to wear.
You were fast asleep and woke up probably a few hours later to both of them having tea in the corner of the room.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you can’t talk your way into being better in bed, she literally blacked out after I made her come, that’s how good it was.” Expressed Vox with frustration.
“Maybe that or you were just so boring she fell asleep.” Replied Alastor calmly sipping his tea.
“Fuck off, weren’t you facefucking her as well? Wouldn’t that make you boring by extension?” He proclaimed, anger taking over his tone.
Alastor ignored him. You moved in the bed making it creak and earning their attention.
“Oh, looks like our friend has finally awaken from her great slumber.” Announced the radio demon.
They both arrived by your side as you fully came to.
“Hello beautiful.” Exclaimed Vox, with his usual smile and composure. “How are we doing?”
“Well!” You replied attempting to stretch then realizing how sore your whole body felt. “Never mind.” You added.
They both smiled with a satisfied look on their face, almost as if admiring their work.
“Yeah, you need to rest. Next time try not to bite off more than you can chew sweetheart.” Declared Vox with Alastor nodding approvingly next to him.
“Any idea who performed best this time Dear?” Asked the radio demon.
“I mean, it’s hard to give you an answer when you both do whatever you want at all times.” You said with a hint of frustration. “Maybe if you both stuck to one hole, I would be able to tell.” You added, genuinely trying to recall all the events in the right order.
“Hmm, No.”
“Nope.” They both proclaimed simultaneously.
“We will, however, keep fucking you until you give us an answer.” Gloated Vox with a hint of excitement in his voice.
“I’m afraid it’s the only way.” Added Alastor calmly.
“Fair.” You conceded.
‘Holy shit what did I get myself into…’ You thought to yourself.
“Now, rest my dear, you’re going to need it.” Said Vox still smiling at you before vanishing into electricity out of the room.
“I’ll see you soon Darling.” Declared Alastor before smiling and disappearing into a shadow.
To be continued...
Vox is genuinely so effortless to write. I love how versatile he can be, Alastor on the other hand is rough -.- but once I'm done I can fully appreciate it.
PS : I know Alastor is Aroace and I hope no one takes offense to my work. I genuinely take pleasure in writing smuts and I've been loving his personality that's all.
Peace out ! o/
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#vox x reader#alastor x reader x vox#vox x reader x alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor smut#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#vox x you#vox x y/n#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#vox smut#smut
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
Joel was never that into gambling.
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.
Liam folds.
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.
“Fuck you, Miller.”
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.
“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”
“You should’ve thought of that before.”
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”
“You can’t leave, where would you go?”
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.
You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.
And it seemed like you were no exception.
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”
“God, yes.”
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”
You sink to your knees immediately after that.
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”
“Get on with it then.”
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”
“Is this pussy mine?”
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.
“I think he left, sweetheart.”
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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intoxicating.
premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.
somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.
Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.
He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.
Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.
Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.
However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.
At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.
Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.
“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”
So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.
“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”
Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”
You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”
Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”
You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”
“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.
For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”
He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”
“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”
“...No?”
“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”
“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”
“Is it working?”
Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.
“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.
“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”
When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.
“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-
Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.
“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.
“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.
The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”
You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.
“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”
“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”
“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.
He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”
Just what on earth did you do last night...?
???
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin scenarios#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact fic#fluff#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley#wriothesley x you#it doesn't happen immediately but you do get together eventually#your ex sees you with your new man so he realizes who really won that breakup
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Ride Me, Pretty Please!
(Geto x F!Reader)
Summary: You dom Geto for the first time and he loses his mind
Warnings: smut, unprotected piv (use protection irl), riding, sub!geto, dom!reader, teasing (i love me domming a usually dom man)
Word Count: 1.6k of filth
masterlist
“I didn’t realise you were so sensitive like this,” you grin, body hot from the high sitting on your boyfriend’s pretty face has brought you. Geto had pleaded, begged even, for you to sit on his face, promising to do anything for you in return. And you took up that offer - choosing to dom him after, something he never lets you do.
And now you are straddling him, hands on his chest scratching his flushed skin and flicking his sensitive nipples as you hover over him, teasing his achingly hard cock with a brush of your cunt. “Is this why you never -”
“Shut - aanh - up!” he says, gasping when you rub your slick walls over his cock, squeezing around nothing to tease him.
“So you don’t want me to ride you, okay then,” you taunt, getting away from him. Geto’s large hands grab your hips and pull you back down and you’re sitting on his stomach, his dark happy trail scruffing against your slick cunt.
“No-o! Don’t go,” your boyfriend pants, his face turning redder by the moment.
“You’re forgetting your manners, Sugu,” you coo with a strict face.
“Don’t go, please,” He says, his already fucked out face tempting you. Has he gotten his fucked out just by me sitting on his face? His messy hair only adds to his charm, tied up to keep it away from being pulled by your knees on either side of his head.
“Aw, I don’t know, ” you pull his hair out of the messy bun, playing with it as you pretend to think. “You hadn’t been the most welcoming of this.”
“You promise-” You flick his nipple, and his words turn into a quiet gasp. You love the sound of his voice, especially now that he is so needy. You wonder if he knew you’d like this too much, which is why he wasn’t letting you top him - until now. “My love, please,”
“Do you really want it that bad, baby?” you tease. “I can’t hear you clearly.”
“Please, please, please,” he pleads, a pout on his face and pretty eyes staring right up at you. “My love, please.”
“Please what, Suguru?” you say, seeing why Suguru enjoys topping you so much. It’s so hot to see him begging you to give him relief, to see him looked fucked out because of you - it’s turning you on even more than you already were. Hearing him beg for you to sit on his face had been great, but this was better.
“Please ride me, my love,” he begs, a crease forming between his usually relaxed brows. He looks so beautiful like this - hair messy and flushed face looking fucked out - his nose, and chin glisten from your slick, lips swollen from how he had been making out with your cunt. “Please, use me for you pleasure,”
“Aw, do you really want me so bad?” You tease, and he nods furiously with the adorable pout on his face. Was he afraid of how much he’d enjoy this?
You finally put his suffering to an end, taking his cock and pushing it into your wet cunt, gasping at the full feeling even just the tip of his pretty cock brought. Even with your orgasm not so long ago, you have to be slow in sinking down, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. You force your eyes to stay open, watching how Suguru’s pretty face looks with his mouth hung open in a silent oh and eyes squeezed shut in bliss. The rise and fall of his chest is temptation incarnate - you pinch his nipple in one hand and nibble on the other, and the moan you receive in response is one that you will never forget.
You’re still for a while, and the flushed Suguru finally opens his pretty eyes to look at you, sitting prettily on his cock, a feline grin on your face. You lean down, breasts brushing against his chest as you plant kisses on his neck and jaw, nipping here and there. “Aww, you pretty baby,” you coo, enjoying teasing him. His grip on your hips tighten - you wonder how long he will hold himself back from all of your teasing. You grind your hips in a back and forth motion, and his groan goes right from your ear to your cunt, clenching around him deliciously.
“Stop teasing me,” he whimpers, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
“Oh, poor baby,” you tease, “Is it not fun to be teased?”
He pouts, whimpering again when you clench around him, slick and pre gathering at the base of his cock. His pretty eyes fly between your eyes and your cunt swallowing him whole, unable to decide where to look at. Suguru looks so cute - you can’t help but kiss him, a kiss which he fervently returns. You tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at it just the way he likes it. With your other hand, you move his hands to your ass, loving the way he plays with your flesh.
Suguru lets out a sound - downright a growl as you give him the freedom to knead your ass, and he does - he plays with it so good you almost let up your control.
“Mo-oove, please,” he pleads, neck and face a lovely shade of red.
“Pretty please?,” you tease,
“Pretty please, my love,” he relents, giving you puppy eyes that you didn’t know he was capable of. The sight of it is so beautiful you involuntarily give in, and start finding your pace on top of him. Your head falls back once you find the right pace and rhythm, feeling his mushroom tip hit against your sweet spot just the right way, still sensitive from your previous high. It’s mind numbing, but you force yourself to look down at your boyfriend, giving him your best sultry eyes.
He’s lost in his own world, gasping and whimpering at your pace, which bullies his cock just right, your weight on him as you use him to your pleasure, the way your delicious body moves against him, the wet squelch coming from where the two of you were connected, it’s all too much, and the only thing holding him back is the flesh of your ass in his big hands.
His brain short circuits when you move your hands to this throat from his chest, squeezing his neck just enough to make breathing a little difficult, the way your cunt presses against his pubic bone, swallowing him whole - it’s electrifying, setting his nerves on fire, and he can’t help but plead, “please, please, please” he don’t know what he is pleading for, but you do - and when your movement quickens, and your left hand leaves his neck to play with your tits.
He knew it would be too much for him, too much for him to see you lose your mind while riding him, using him as nothing but a means of your pleasure. It’s dizzying, but he forces his eyes to stay open, to drink in the sight of you, but all that does is make the knot in his stomach tighten. You’re like a goddess of the heavens blessing a mere earthling like him with your magnificent body. The pace of your hips stutters a bit and you clench around him - both his dick and the hand on his neck squeezing it tighter.
“I’m close,” he whimpers, the knot in his stomach threatening to snap.
“Cum baby, come for me,” you look down at him, hair messy, lips bitten raw and red, eyes ready to combust him on the spot.
As if on cue, the knot in his stomach snaps, and he releases inside of your snug walls, your slick and his cum slipping out as you don’t relent on your pace, continuing to use him to chase your second high. He nearly curls onto himself as the overstimulation kicks in, your walls gripping his sensitive cock like a vice and your hands on his chest, playing with his very sensitive nipples.
You continue the sweet torture through his pleas and gasps, not stopping till you reach your own second high, walls getting impossibly tighter around his cock, his whimpers push you over the edge, and you have no thoughts in your head save for calls of his name. You back arches, pushing your clit just right against his pubic bone, you cry out his name as you slow down the motion of your hips, thoroughly exhausted and ready to drop.
“You did so good for me, baby,” you force yourself to remain sitting, gently cradling a twitching Suguru’s head in your hand. You run your hands through his silky hair and kiss him on the forehead, waiting for his overstimulation to die down before getting off him.
You drop next to him on the bed, and he is quick to pull you into his embrace, still sounding out of breath as he says, “I think you killed me a little, pretty girl.”
You giggle, kissing the tip of his nose, and he returns the affection, kissing all over your face and barely letting you speak. “And I am unable to feel my legs,”
“I’ll clean you up in a bit,” he promises, snuggling closer to you, nose buried in your neck. “You know what, we should do this more often,”
“Of course,” you say, giggling. “You were the one who was so adamantly against it, not me!”
“And you’ve taught me my lesson, pretty girl,” he relents, purring in your ear. “I’d let you use me anytime,”
“Stop saying things like that, I’m enjoying this way too much,” you giggle, caressing his back. Both your hair is a mess, but you are too exhausted to do anything but sleep. You’ll worry about your sweaty hair later.
“Love you so much, pretty girl,” his smooth voice whispers. “You’re so perfect,”
“Love you too, baby,” you whisper to him, already feeling the embrace of sleep.
A/N: Second time writing smut, and ofc its for my babygirl mother of two daughters
#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru#sub!geto#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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clarification because i swear i don't practice favoritism (i so do sometimes but shhh): i think about marrying all the others just as much as I do ryou but he just so happens to be the one i talk about the most so sjjfdsh
#and i also realize that it usually sounds like i'm seeing yb in a bad light whenever i talk about what ryou has been through#and i'm not saying that what he did was okay#but i am saying that they've both changed and grown and have been working together to better balance out each other#yes bakura obviously hurt his host and no i don't think that is something that is going to be fixed easily#i see ryou still get somewhat uncomfortable whenever the subject is directly approached and i don't think he's completely forgiven yb yet#and that's completely okay. i don't expect him to do that and i don't think bakura does either#but bakura has been trying to change and be better even if it's in small ways#he doesn't completely control ryou's life anymore. he doesn't try to use him as a means to an end#he doesn't see him as *just* a host body anymore#ryou had absolutely no reason to give him a second chance when the ring ended up with him again but#he still did. even after everything#i don't know why. i don't try to push for the answer because i know ryou will tell me whenever he's ready to#but whatever the reason was it's gotten them this far. and i'm very happy about that <3#they've both grown a lot within the time i've known them#if we were to get promise rings or whatever#and either of them wore it#it'd be a symbol that they've both changed. that they've both been able to grow and be (somewhere) better#and that makes me even more lovesick for the both of them <3#(sidenote: in my personal interpretation of canon; i think most of the injuries yb caused were out of impulse rather than malicious intent.#especially with monster world i think that was more of a defensive response to avoid having his plan ruined xP#like it's mentioned very vaguely and momentarily but yb cares for ryou!! even if it's in a very backwards and misguided way#over here collecting the souls of his friends because he said he wanted to play with them forever.#he's got the right intentions VERY WRONG EXECUTION!!! anyway#i. love them but they both need help i think skjhhkjsa#proud of them both though <33)#spooky ghosts#four of spades
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic
Simon Riley/female reader - reader POV
You have a problem.
You miss your neighbor.
He's been gone for two and a half weeks, and every day you catch yourself holding your breath, listening for him next door. Watching for the light on his balcony, checking your phone relentlessly.
You've been worrying, anxiety turning into a gnawing ache beneath your ribs, wondering about how he is, what he's doing, if he's okay. If he's safe.
He'll text you. Right? When he's home? He said he would, didn't he? You're not sure. Not sure of anything when it comes to him, confusing thoughts and feelings turning over and over in your head every second, twisted up and tangled in your heart.
You've friend zoned yourself, you know it. Relying on him too much, asking him for help all the time, inviting him for dinners but too afraid to try to take the next step. And didn't you do it to yourself anyway? Didn't you ask him to babysit for you, so you could go out on a date with some asshole that didn't even show? He's your friend. He's your neighbor.
Yeah but he asked you to go for dinner, the night you were sick. And he rushed to you and Emma when that creep was following you in the park. Doesn't that mean something?
He asked you AND Emmaline to dinner, not like on a romantic date. And he did the same thing anyone would do, if they thought their friend was in trouble, didn't he?
He doesn't act like your neighbor. He acts more like... a husband, than anything else.
Not knowing is confusing, and on top of your grief, it makes you feel a little more vulnerable than you care to admit, but you can't deny your own truth. You like him. Even Emmaline likes him, little face smiling up at him every chance she gets, staring at him like he's the whole world. Maybe he is. You can't help but swoon over the way she interacts with him, how she settles so easily with him, how she coos and babbles at him like she's having a whole conversation with him. When he walks into a room, she lights up like the sun, happy baby giggles and everything, the sweet sounds of her glee at her favorite person's face like music to your ears. So unfair. You suffered for sixteen hours trying to give birth to her, alone... and he comes around for a few months and all the sudden you've been replaced.
You can't blame her too much, you guess. You get it. He's... something else. Something you're not sure you understand. Something you don't know you're ready for.
Still, you think he might feel the same way.
You shake your head. Stop. You're getting so far ahead of yourself.
Which is why you've convinced yourself that when he's home, the next time you see him, you're just going to buck up and do it. You're going to tell him how you feel. No matter how hard it is.
You've even practiced what you'll say. Staring at yourself in the mirror nervously, reciting different ways to say 'hey Simon I really like you and was wondering if you want to go out on a date even though I have a baby and am basically a widow.'
Emmaline cries, announcing that she's awake, and you're so quick to soothe her, holding her to your chest, whispering a good morning to her, rubbing her back and tummy as you always do. You think some people might say you're spoiling her, that you're not letting her cry long enough, that you're teaching her bad habits or manners but you can't help it. Her father died before she was even born. You're the only thing she has in this world, the only person that gives her love, that makes her feel safe-
or at least, you used to be.
You hear your neighbor in his flat hours and hours later. Well past sunset, Emmaline already sleeping in her crib, your dishes already done, little chores taken care of, and you're sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, watching a movie at a low hum.
Was that- is he?
You sit straight up, straining to listen. It takes a second, but eventually, you recognize the tell tale sound of an interior door closing, and then the balcony glows with the light from the inside.
He's home. You take a large gulp of wine, and a deep breath. Just go over there, and tell him how you feel.
Your fingers curl into a fist, hesitantly knocking at his door, holding your breath. When there's no response, you try again, a little louder, and then feel immense relief when the lock clicks.
Until it opens.
Simon doesn't look like himself. He looks lost. Haunted. There's remnant of black grease around his eyes and instead of being maskless or wearing the usual cloth one, his head is mostly covered by a balaclava bearing a skull, and his eyes are blank. Dark. Something is off.
"Hi." You squeak, and cringe inwardly, stomach flipping like you're on a carnival ride. You raise the two bottles of beer that you brought over with a meek smile, gesturing to them and the monitor. "Thought we could um... try this again?"
"No." His refusal is flat, rough, and you blink in surprise. No?
"Oh- I uh... just thought-"
"It's not a good time." He cuts you off, and then before you can even get another word out, the front door closes in your face, leaving you outside in the hall, bewildered. Hurt.
Guess he doesn't like you after all.
#lmao I'm sorry#peaches writes#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#light on
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