#i was shocked to see lights after i went back i love that attention to detail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanartlover1234 · 8 hours

Text

A PUT TOGETHER MESS

Mattheo and Y/n broke up in 3rd year and Y/n left to study elsewhere but when she comes back she is completely different

MATTHEO X F!READER

3rd YEAR

"Are you kidding me??" Y/n yelled annoyed as she caught Mattheo flirting with yet another girl after he stood her up for her date.

"C'mon babe, dont be like that" he said taking her hand " y'know i love you" he said a smile on his face droping when he saw her stone cold face.

She was 14 and would probablu fall to her knees for that smile but this time she was done, she had wanted to explain to him that she had to leave, thats why she suggested this date.

"No, im done and you dont love me" she said slaping his hand away from her " you love the idea of me, you love the idea that im always there when you want it"

She said before walking away.

The very next day she left.

"Pansy, where is Y/n?" He asked Y/n best friend stoping her chatter with Astoria.

"Why would i care?"

"She left today, she changed schools because of her parents" Astoria explained as the boy's face grew pale in shock and fear as he might never see her again.

7th YEAR

Over the past years everyone could see how Mattheo had changed , his grades sliped and he himself was playing girls left and right, his heart had become cold amd his face rarely showed something other than a smirk or a stone cold face.

Y/n on the other hand became different, her usual shy nature became more open over the years even if the first year after the break up was hard.

"What gossip are you both going 'bout now?" Lorenzo asked Pansy and Astoria as they chatted about some person again.

"You guys dont know?" Astoria asked as the biys sat down, Mattheo pulled out some cigarette before lighting it.

"Enlighten us" He said rolling his eyes as he took a drag of smoke.

"Y/n is coming back, she is-"

"Wait wait wait" Theodore said " Mattheos Y/n?" He asked them.

"Well she is not really his but yeah" Astoria said as she looked at Theo.

"Nuh uh, everyone know Y/n is Mattheos girl even if they are not together" Lorenzo said leaning back before the door to the common room opened up and Y/ns voice filled the room as she spoke on the phone catching the attention of Mattheo.

Her hair was longer and darker and her looks had just changed and her personality as well.

She put her phone on the jeans pocket before Astoria went up to the girl.

"Hey girl, made sure you are across from me and Pansy" she said to the girl, handing her a key to her room.

"Thanks, Tori" she said taking the and making her way up.

-september-

During september, Mattheo learned a lot about Y/n from Astorias and Pansys big mouths thay never shut up about her.

From what he heard she hasn't changed much, just gained the confidence she needed and changed a lot in her looks earning a lot of guys attention.

For Y/n it was weird since most classed for them were together but she tried not to pay attention to him or well the facts that he still caused her to feel thing no other guy has ever made her feel.

His smirk when he caught her staring at him, or the small chuckle when she tried to cover up her pink cheeks or when she made a snappy comment at him.

-oktober-

Halloween party, Y/ns black dress and high heels caught not only Mattheos eyes but also half the party boys eyes as the girl danced her hip moving.

She flinched a little feeling a pair of cold hands through her dress on her hips making her turn around.

"Mattheo?" God her saying his name made him want to take here right then and there "get off" she said her voice sounding like a whisper over the loud music as she tried to peal his hands off her but to no avail his grip on her was strong but not enough to bruise her.

"C'mon, dove, we both know you still want me as much as i do " he said pulling her closer to him their faces inches apart from eachother before Pansy pulled Y/n back telling her something.

When Y/n turned around to scold Mattheo he was gone already, her mind going blank as she grabed a random boy kissing him.

The boy kissed her back, sloppy and bad kiss but it took her mind off, nope take that back, it didnt work his hands were warm and uncomfortable while Mattheos cold and always braught her joy, his touch felt like fire while Mattheos touch made her want to lit herself un fire with the passion he gave her, his hair was short amd straight oh how she missed Mattheos curls.

She pulled back suddenly, before her stood Mattheo his smirk on his face as he looked at her.

"Mattheo" she said.

"Mattheo? Im dean" Mattheo said.

"Huh" she said shaking her face and for a fact Mattheo wasnt even near her, before her stood Dean who she has flying class with.

Y/n left him there making her way into some random room, going into a bubble of quief from the party.

The bathroom door opened and she saw Mattheo his fancy pants thay he always wore, no shirt there.

Her eyes traveled down on his abs, god he looked like a god now.

He looked good then but now.

He cleared his throat and she looked up at him as she started to ramble an apology to him as she reached for a handle as he came closer to her, grabing the door handle traping her in the room.

"Matt"

"Dove, you wanted to see me naked you could have just asked" he said a smirk on his face as he watched her.

"I dont, i didnt" she stumbled over her words as she looked anywhere but him.

He grabed her moving her to be infront of his bed.

"I hate you"

"Oh im sure you do" he said kissing her neck before steping back a little.

"Strip" he said.

"I hate you, Mattheo, you"

"i said strip" he said again.

Before she registered it she was already out of her dress.

She took off her underwear, leanig down to take her heels " leave them on" he said.

He leaned down taking her clothes and sitting by a window placing them on the window sill as he sat down.

"Matt"

"You say you hate me yet your dripping wet, naked and obey like a whore" he said.

She looked down.

"On your knees" he said and she slowly did "look at me and crawl here"

She did but she felt so humiliated by him she when she sat on her knees before him.

Long story short they fucked hard.

-november-

It was getting chilly outside as november steped up to replace the warm weather as the night became longer.

Y/n was sitting outside reading a book, she liked the cool air as a flyer was placed down by Pansy.

"Hogwarts hosting the yule ball, we have to go to it"

"Pansy, no" she said closing the book as she looked at the girl.

"C'mon it will be fun, a good way to rub Mattheos nerves" she said singing the last part earning a smile from the girl as she said yes and soon enough dress was on her bed, haid neatly done and make up sparkly as December dance came up in few hours.

Y/n made her way into the ball room, her eyes looking at the figures dancing and a few hours in she, Pansy and Astoria were dancing as well they spun around in joy as she laughed around.

Mattheo had seen her, admired her as his date kept talking, her voice fell silent as he looked at Y/n.

Her hair tied up and her make up sparkly, her green dress enchanting her beauty as she laughed with some friends.

Her eyes met his, her laugh stoping her smile still soft as she looled at him before Astoria got her attention again.

She was back, they had fucked, he knew she still loved him but most of all he was crazy about her now, he was in love, his face went sad as he remembered all those times he treated her badly, he loved her and he lost her.

He looked at her, now he was sure who she was, she was drifferent yet same from who she was those years ago.

She was life it self.

Wild and free.

Wonderfully chaotic.

She was a perfectly put together mess.

She was a girl you regret losing.

So he wont, he said sorry to his date before making his way to Y/n taking her bridal style in his hands and carrying her.

Soon they reached his room, Y/n long gave up trying to get out of his hands.

He placed her down softly.

"Let me go" she said when be stood before the door.

"Im not making that mistake again" he said to her " i love you Y/n, i shouldn't have been such a jerk those years ago" he said before kissing her.

She kissed him back, cutting the tension between them since the halloween party.

Mattheo

Her mind was racing, his name going in circles over and over as the kiss deepened.

She is a girl you regret losing, so he didnt and will make sure he never does

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

24 notes · View notes

saetoru · 8 months

Note

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

#bye #this is so obnoxiously long for a silly little jumble of thoughts #maybe i’ll flesh it out and make it an actual fic tho #bully! gojo tag

5K notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 1 month

Text

NOW OR NEVER

PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.

WC: 1.4k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic.

He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen imagines

2K notes · View notes

bettysupremacy · 4 months

Note

hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭

I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(

you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!

thank uu

i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!

There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.

Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.

“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.

His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.

“Sirius.”

He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.

“So hungry.”

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.

He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.

“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.

He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?

“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”

“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.

The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.

You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”

It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.

“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.

You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.

“You new around here?”

An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”

He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”

“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”

“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“

“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”

“No,” the man scoffs.

“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”

He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”

“Well, conversations over now.”

“She can make her own decisions.”

“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.

“She was asking for it.”

Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.

James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.

Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.

“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”

You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”

He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.

He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.

“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”

He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.

“You do.” James feeds Sirius.

“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”

“You look good.”

“Oh, now you tell me.”

You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.

“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.

“That was stupid.”

“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”

2K notes · View notes

saltpepperbeard · 4 months

Text

Be a Lighthouse - Fight For OFMD Season 3

Hi everyone. The news of our cancellation is both incredibly devastating, and quite shocking considering the trajectory of the show and its fanbase. Everything looked like it was lining up in a positive fashion...only for the rug to get yanked out from under us.

I cried. I went numb. I stared at the wall for a while.

But then, something sparked. Like Ed who was resolved to his fate in S1Ep4 only to rocket back upwards, I was struck with a realization: we need to be a lighthouse!

Fanbases have campaigned before, and have gotten results. Sense8 was able to get a two hour finale to properly wrap everything up. Lucifer was able to get picked up by Netflix after being cancelled by Fox. Brooklyn 99 was able to get picked up by NBC after being cancelled by Fox. And many more examples.

Be it a proper renewal, a finale wrap that entails Ed and Stede's wedding, or the attention from another network, I say we fight that good fight. So, here are some ways we can be heard; if you think of any additional points, please feel free to add them!

If you don't cancel your Max Subscription, continue watching the show and leaving feedback on Max's online feedback form. I had a kneejerk reaction when cancellation was announced and pulled the plug...only to sit back and reconsider. I want them to still get my metrics. I want them to still see the show means something to me. And whether that's through words or statistics, I feel like that's something.

2. Follow @renewasacrew and keep up with their resources/campaigns. They're very active and passionate, and have already come up with different ways to fight for our show.

3. Sign the petition to give us just that little bit more of a chance to have our voices heard.

4. Stay active on social media, and stay positive. Continue sharing how much this show means to us. Continue creating. Continue loving. Use hashtags like-

#RenewAsACrew

#SaveOFMD

#RenewOFMD

#BeALighthouse

#OFMDSeason3

or anything equivalent on any and all OFMD-related posts. Keep the buzz about it going on social media. Comment on posts, keep spreading the word, and get the light burning.

5. Renewasacrew has given us another outlet; an official HBO email address. Write an email detailing your personal experience with this show, and how significant a third season would be.

6. Tweet/email other platforms to pique their interest. Be it Amazon Prime, Hulu, Netflix, or whoever else, let's see if we can't catch someone else's attention. A romcom with iconic LGBT representation seems pretty enticing if you ask me!

This show means the world to me. Y'all mean the world to me. So let's show them why. Let's show them why, and get the proper ending we, the cast and crew, and the characters all deserve.

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #OFMD Season 3 #OFMD S3 #Renew as a Crew #Renew OFMD #Be A Lighthouse #ofmdaily #ofmdsource #ofmdedit #ofmdblog #I'm trying #I'M ATTEMPTING

1K notes · View notes

thethingswedotomorrow · 6 months

Text

Crowley has been with humanity since the beginning. The original serpent of eden, he is the first "monster" in humanity's bedtime stories. He is the figurative and literal demon on human's shoulders, always there to guide them one way or another. He's weaved through history itself, and prides himself on an impeccable track record of demonic activity throughout the last 6000 years.

But, naturally, after 6000 years, Crowley finds that he's spent more time pining after a certain Angel than doing any sort of work. Like, an extreme amount of pining.

And it isn't until after the notpocalypse that Crowley realizes that, entirely accidentally and very embarrassingly, he may have accidentally made his pining very, very public.

One of Crowley's favorite ways to waste a day is to take Aziraphale to different museums around the world and watch as the angel wanders around and points out all of the inaccuracies

"Good Lord Crowley, have you seen this painting? Portraying you as a dragon is a tad dramatic, I think. All we were doing were having a picnic. And I have never had my hair looking like that, thank you."

"I don't know Angel, they've got your wings spot on. Wa-Hang on, have they added horns to my head?"

"Oh, I see, suddenly it's only inaccurate when they've got you wrong."

The museums always seem to be miraculously empty, and whenever Crowley mentions this, Aziraphale suddenly finds a new, very interesting piece of art to admire

Crowley admires the lengths Aziraphale goes to to hide the small miracles he's done for Crowley's sake

As if Crowley wouldn't move literal mountains for the angel

*He did, actually, do that once.

In the 12th century, they were having a lovely evening together with multiple caskets of wine, up until Aziraphale complained about the amount of light in his eyes

"Honestly Crowley, all this sun and no shade, it must truly be awful for the humans around here with no shelter. It's a tad much, even for me."

Crowley, even then, immediately recognized this off-hand comment as an underhanded complaint, and knew that would not stand

When the small earthquake passed, Crowley claimed that the nearby church was on a fault line and he was simply doing his demonic duty by damaging holy goods in the area

If Aziraphale realized that the mountain range in the distance suddenly provided much more sun coverage, he never mentioned it.

Currently, however, Crowley follows Aziraphale around, wandering behind him and never truly looking at the things in the museum

In every single place they've ever gone together, there was only ever one thing that deserved Crowley's attention

And it certainly was not an inaccurate model of a 18th century tea set

But when Aziraphale wanders into a hall titled 'Love of the Past', he starts to panic. Just a very tiny amount, basically none at all. A small enough amount of panic that he could deny it, even to himself.

He thinks about the past, towards the beginning, back when Humanity was still getting it's footing and figuring out how to have governments and societies and (the most important part) figuring out the whole alcohol situation

Throughout the years, especially towards the beginning, Crowley began to resent any time not spent with Aziraphale

Everything seemed small and dull when compared to the way the Angel smiled when he saw new type of human dessert, or the way he laughed when Crowley managed to work out a clever comment

And once Crowley experienced those things, he never wanted anything else

He had seen the poetry the humans had written, how much emotion they could pour into a simple piece of parchment or a clay tablet

He never cared for written word, but he was shocked at just how much feeling the humans could manage to pour into words

So after Aziraphale left Rome (after the oysters and the wine and the smiles, for somebody's sake the smiles), he went due east for a new miracle on another continent

Crowley stayed and got well and truly drunk. As he did best.

He had spent a few weeks around the other drunks around the area, most poverty stricken and saddened with some sort of grief of one type or another

It wasn't until a group of poets wandered into his dark corner of the pub that he started to considered writing

Obviously nothing anyone would ever read, he'd ensure that. Every scroll or parchment that he'd touch with a quill would be burnt with hellfire before it left his sight

But, as many of his worst ideas started, he had nothing better to do and too much time to think

So he wrote. He wrote letters, first addressed to nobody, about random thoughts that would pop into his very intoxicated brain. Whether humans would ever find traces of the unicorns they lost on the ark, whether he would ever find a way to count just how many scales he had, whether he would ever reach a point where he didn't have to cover his eyes every day

Slowly, the letters started becoming addressed to 'A'. Whether he was conscious of this or not, he'd never admit.

But he wrote. He wrote to A about Hell, the jobs they required of him, the things they'd have him do. He wrote of the way humans had beaten him to the punch 90% of the time. How they would do things worse than Satan himself could imagine, and they'd never blink an eye while doing it.

He wrote of the way the sun darkened each day that passed without his Angel, the way his wine never seemed to have enough flavor when he was alone.

He wrote of the ways he imagined he could orchestrate an elaborate reunion, a convoluted mess of too much demonic activity in a small area that just happened to have a wonderful new tea, or so he's heard, and wouldn't it be a shame to leave the town without tempting the angel to try it?

He wrote to A about how he was sure he had no heart, no emotions. He was a Demon, for somebody's sake, he certainly had no need for stupid things like that, and so the ache in his corporation's chest when he sees the Angel had to be some sort of malfunction.

Anatural function, surely, that could be fixed with the right amount of aloofness and strong liquor

He wrote of the way the sun always seemed to hit the Angel's hair just right, and Crowley had no faith, he had no God.

But in those moments, with a halo around the angel and that smile aimed towards him, he might consider praying now to a different source altogether, a closer source. One full of life and light and actual proper goodness, not that fake advertised bullshit they plaster on church walls in pretty paintings and sad songs

Crowley wrote for a long while, and found that the writing helped the pain.

Even if only because it brought on memories of Aziraphale, and that was enough to hold him until they met again. It had to be, he had no choice in the matter.

And he wrote so often throughout the ages, and often while he was drunk. And he was so sure, so positive that he had burned every trace of his heart and emotion out of existence.

He had to be. The danger those words could put Aziraphale in was far too great. He couldn't be bothered to care of the danger to himself, but the fact that the very hint of any emotion could come close to hurting his Angel was enough to ensure that they would never come across another being's eyes.

He destroyed every letter and word that described his desire, his pain, his greed. He ripped the words he created out of reality as easily as he had written them. Every time, he burnt the parchment, and every time, it burnt a part of him with it.

And then the Apocalypse had happened. Or, well, didn't happen, he supposed. Really, he wasn't entirely sure if there was a difference.

Because everything had changed, even if the rest of the world hadn't noticed. And he was suddenly allowed to see Aziraphale with no excuse, no half-hearted reasoning behind it. He was allowed to want, and to crave, and he relished it.

And he was allowed to take the angel to museums to watch him fuss over small mistakes humanity had collected throughout the ages

Until he realized that they had, in fact, also collected HIS mistakes.

In a hall. A whole bloody hall. A hall, dedicated to and full of stupid parchment and sappy letters and wine stains over words written so long ago

And honestly who gave them the right? Leave it to the humans to collect other people's belongings and put it on display as their own

And he knew, from the moment Aziraphale read the first page on display, he just knew. This was it. All of it was ruined.

All because Crowley had gotten so drunk and passed out in his room above the pub, and when they'd thrown him out in a drunken stupor, they'd collected his belongings to sell afterwards. And he'd never even realized, so concerned about the next meeting, the arrangement, concerned about anything and everything except the one thing he forgot about and could end them both.

Any moment now, Aziraphale would look up at him, with disgust and confusion and all those emotions that he'd really rather not see on his face, preferably ever, but especially not towards him.

But Aziraphale never looks up. He reads the first page 5, 6, 7 times, being sure to capture every single word. Every wrinkle in the paper, every crease.

Then he moves to the next, and then the next. He repeats this process. Every page, he scours each and every page. Searching and scanning, analyzing every word.

Crowley is frozen at the entrance of the hall, too terrifed to say a word, but too hopeful to leave. He stands there, suddenly feeling the same feeling in his chest that he felt so many years ago, in the corner of the pub, sitting in the dark, wishing for the light that he knew would never come.

He's so panicked, that he doesn't notice Aziraphale finishing the last page, and wiping the tears from his eyes. He startles when he accidentally meets his eyes, and prepares a number of excuses and deflections, all to preserve this shred of peace and safety they had carved out for themselves.

"Angel, I- you really- ngk- humans are so rid- are you hungry? I could eat, I've heard they've got a killer bar around here, and we cou-I can get us there in 10 minutes, ngk actu- scratch that, we could be there in 5, I bet. Museums aren-angel?"

Crowley finds himself stopping the random stream of words coming out of his mouth, when he notices tears in Aziraphale's eyes

"Angel, I-"

That's all Crowley can get out before Aziraphale is walking towards him with a purpose

And suddenly Aziraphale is very close to him

Very very close

And suddenly Aziraphale's lips are on his, and Aziraphale is holding onto Crowley's jacket, and Crowley's hands are just waving in the air back and forth while he processes the last .5 seconds.

By the time he realizes what is actually happening, Aziraphale pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against Crowley's, and laughs.

He laughs. Laughs. Aziraphale is laughing and it's a wonderful, beautiful noise and Crowley doesn't quite understand why, but then he's laughing too and then they are both standing there, arms around each other, laughing and Crowley realizes now that all the words he's written, all the praises he sang of his Aziraphale, the way he wished and prayed for his heart and laugh and love

Not one bit of it is at all comparable to the real thing.

2K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 7 months

Text

Mine

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos wants everyone to know you’re his and he knows exactly how to make that happen

Warnings: 18+ content heavily implied, manipulation, tampering with birth control, pregnancy

“Who was that?”

You glance up to find Carlos’ gaze fixed on the rearview mirror of his sleek Ferrari, eyebrows furrowed. His usually cheerful brown eyes are clouded with something you can’t quite place.

“Who?” You ask, feigning ignorance though you know he’s referring to the tall, blond man who had lingered just a bit too long by your side during the after-race party.

“The cabrón in the blue suit,” he grinds his teeth. “Never seen him around before.”

“Ah,” you laugh, reaching out to playfully flick at the bridge of his nose, “just someone from the event planning team. Harmless.”

Carlos doesn’t smile back. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and the set of his jaw becomes more pronounced. “He touched your arm.”

“He was just being friendly,” you reason but a hint of defensiveness creeps into your voice.

There’s a pause as Carlos winds the car through the foreign streets. You can feel his frustration.

“You’re being naive,” he finally says. “It’s not just him. Everywhere we go, I see them looking at you. The way Daniel winks at you, how Lewis always finds an excuse to chat, even the staff and the fans. Don’t you see it?”

It’s not like you can deny that. Ever since the two of you went public with your relationship, attention has been inevitable. You’re the envy of many and the object of desire for countless others. But Carlos’ brooding possessiveness is new and you’re not sure how to address it.

“They’re just our friends,” you murmur. “And fans are fans. They’re excited to see you and by extension me too. That’s all.”

He exhales heavily. “It’s not just about them being friends or fans. It’s the entitlement, the audacity they have, thinking they can just ... approach you like that. Like they have any shot with you.”

You roll your eyes even though he won’t see it while focused on the road. “I can handle myself. Besides, I chose you. They’re nothing to me.”

The car pulls up to the entrance of a crowded nightclub, its entrance flashing with neon lights. Carlos stops in front of the valet, swiveling in his seat to face you.

You’re taken aback by the intensity in his eyes.

“Yes,” he says in a husky whisper, “you chose me. And I chose you. But I can’t stand by and watch these pretenders think they have a shot with you.”

You swallow hard, shocked by the raw emotion in his voice. “You can’t control who talks to me or looks at me. I love you and that’s all that matters.”

He leans in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I know,” his lips brush your skin. “But I also know how men think and I won’t stand for them disrespecting you or our relationship.”

“We’re in the public eye. This is something we will always have to deal with. Trust me, trust us.”

His gaze searches yours, dark eyes imploring. “I trust you,” he says. “It’s them I don’t trust.”

You wrap your fingers around his much bigger ones. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

Carlos sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I just … I can’t bear the thought of anyone else ever having you.”

Your heart swells. “Mi amor, I’m not going anywhere. The ring on my finger is there because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He pulls you across the console, setting you on his lap as he wraps his arms around you while ignoring the valet waiting right outside the car. “I know. I just ... I need to make sure that everyone else knows too.”

***

Carlos finds himself in a dimly lit pharmacy aisle, heart racing. The overhead fluorescent lights throw ghostly shadows between the narrow rows. He can hear the soft hum of a distant conversation, punctuated by the rustling of paper bags and the occasional beep of the cash register.

But for Carlos, everything feels distant, like he’s viewing the world through a thick veil.

He stops in front of a shelf, his gaze locking onto the birth control pills. Rows upon rows of them, each promising freedom … autonomy.

His mind rushes back to the countless conversations he’s had with you.

“I want to finish school first,” you would always say earnestly. “Kids are a big responsibility. We have all the time in the world for them later.”

But Carlos doesn’t feel like he has time. He has fought with this internal battle for months. The thought of marking you as his, of the world knowing through the unmistakable swell of your belly, appeals to his most primal instincts.

“Can I help you?” A voice interrupts his thoughts.

He turns to see the pharmacist looking at him with a tentative smile. He tries to gather his thoughts, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “I, um, need some pills. Sugar pills.”

The pharmacist frowns. “For a placebo effect?”

Carlos nods, trying to seem nonchalant. “Yeah, something like that. My little cousin needs them for her science fair project.”

She hesitates for a moment then reaches behind the counter, pulling out a small box. “We have these. They’re usually used for clinical trials but they should do the trick.”

He pays for the pills and quickly hides them in his pocket. He thinks about how you would react if you ever found out. But the thought of you carrying his child, the undeniable mark of his claim clear for all to see, is too much to resist.

The next morning starts as it always does. You stretch and make your way to the bathroom, your daily routine staring with the familiar sound of the pill package being opened.

Carlos stands at the doorway, watching as you take your daily birth control. He knows he should feel guilty but instead he is consumed by a heady mix of anticipation and possessiveness.

He imagines your body changing, growing round.

“Morning,” you smile up at him.

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you. “Morning. How did you sleep?”

You lean into his embrace, enjoying the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “Like a baby. Must have been the post-race celebrations.”

Carlos chuckles but there’s a tension to it, an undercurrent of something more. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins.

You pull back slightly to look up into his eyes, “Mmmh. About?”

“Us. Our future.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What about it?”

He hesitates, his gaze searching yours. “I want to start a family with you,” the words come tumbling out in a rush. “I know you want to wait but the thought of you carrying my child … our child ... I can’t get it out of my head.”

“I love you," you choose your words carefully. "So much. But I’ve told you how I feel. I’m not ready.”

He lets out a heavy breath, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. “I know. I just can’t help how I feel.”

“We’ll get there when the time is right,” you press a kiss to his bare chest. “I promise.”

***

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, feeling his eyes linger on you as you change out of your dress. The dimly lit bedroom is filled with the ambient sounds of Mallorca nightlife. From the open balcony door, you can hear the soft crash of waves and distant murmurs of evening revelers.

Carlos chuckles lowly. “Like what?”

“Like you’re planning something,” you eye him suspiciously but your voice is playful

He stands, taking a few purposeful steps towards you. “Maybe I am,” he corners you against the wall. The heat of his body warms your own, even through the layers of clothing.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Planning what?”

He leans down, lips grazing the curve of your ear. “To remind you,” he whispers, “that you’re mine.”

You shiver at his words, the dominant tone sending a thrill down your spine. “Is that so?” You challenge, arching a brow.

His hands slide down your waist, pulling you impossibly close. “Very much so,” he replies, sealing his words with a searing kiss.

As the two of you move to the bed, there’s an urgency, a raw need that wasn’t there before.

Every touch, every kiss, every caress feels even more intense than usual.

“Why are you so ... insistent tonight?” You gasp out through the overwhelming rush of sensations.

Carlos halts momentarily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. “I want to make sure you never forget,” his voice is rough. “Forget what we have. Forget how deep this goes.”

“I could never forget,” your fingers move with a mind of their own to tangle in his hair.

His lips find yours again. “Promise?”

You nod, getting lost deeper and deeper in the moment. “Promise.”

Hours pass in a blur of passion and whispered confessions. The intensity of Carlos’ actions betrays an underlying need and desperation that are hard for you to place.

As the sun rises above the horizon outside, you find yourself curled up against Carlos’ chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

“You were different tonight,” you murmur as your eyes slowly lose their battle against sleep.

Carlos tenses momentarily. “I just wanted to make sure you know," he says lowly. “Know how much I need you. How much I want you.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, studying his face. “I know,” you brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “But what brought this on?”

Carlos hesitates, searching for the right words. “I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to try to come between us,” he admits. “And I need to make sure that never happens.”

Your heart aches at his words and the vulnerability in his eyes. “Nothing is going to come between us,” you lean over to capture his lips tenderly. “We’re much stronger than that.”

Carlos smiles and flips himself on top of you once more. “I’ll make sure of it.”

***

“Ouch!” You exclaim, pulling away as Carlos’ hands brush against your chest. The sudden sensitivity catches you off guard.

Carlos raises an eyebrow, eyes darkening with a mix of concern and something else — something unreadable. “Mi corazón? What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of the unexpected pain. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of ... off lately.”

He moves closer, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “How so?”

You shrug, “Just more sensitive, I guess. And tired. And don’t even get me started on how my clothes have decided to stop fitting properly.”

Carlos smirks, a hint of smugness playing on his lips. “Maybe you’ve just been enjoying Spanish cuisine a little too much.”

You roll your eyes, swatting him playfully. “Funny. But seriously, it’s weird. I’ve been doing my workouts, eating right, and still ...”

He pulls you close, fingers tracing the smooth curve of your waist. “I like the changes,” his voice is muffled as he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

You shiver, torn between the pleasure of his touch and the lingering feeling that something just isn’t right. “It doesn’t feel like me,” you try to shake off the unease.

Carlos tightens his grip, gaze intensely locked on yours. “Maybe it’s just ... natural changes. You know, as we get older.”

You frown, pulling away slightly. “But I’m in my twenties. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, bodies change. I’m sure everything is fine.”

You’re not convinced but you nod, pushing the uneasy feeling to the back of your mind. “Maybe.”

Carlos watches you closely, the smugness returning to his features. “Besides,” he says, voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I kind of like the changes. You look ... fuller.”

You blush. “Thanks, I guess.”

He laughs, pulling you close again. “Always so modest,” he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You melt completely against him, the warmth and familiarity of his touch pushing away the unease, at least for the moment.

But as the days pass, the changes become more pronounced, the nagging feeling that something is wrong growing stronger.

Carlos, on the other hand, seems happier than ever, his possessiveness reaching new heights. He is constantly by your side, his touch lingering, his gaze intense.

“You’re glowing,” he comments one day, eyes tracing your body.

You roll your eyes but hide a smile. “I think you need to get your eyes checked.”

“I’m serious. There’s something … different about you. I like it.”

You frown, trying to make sense of his words. “Different how?”

He thinks for a moment, searching for the right words. “You just seem more radiant. More alive.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “I think you’re seeing things.”

Carlos smirks. “Maybe,” his hands slip under the material of your shirt, caressing your slightly bloated belly. “Or maybe I just know you better than you know yourself.”

***

“I’m what?” Your voice wavers as you clutch the edge of the doctor’s desk in shock, the coolness of the surface grounding you.

The doctor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looks between you and Carlos. “You’re pregnant,” she repeats gently, handing over the sonogram.

Carlos breaks into a wide grin. “That’s incredible!” He pulls you into a tight embrace, placing kisses all over your face.

But as the news sinks in, panic sets in. Your future plans — graduating with your degree, establishing a career — all seem to crash around you.

You gently extricate yourself from his hold, taking a deep breath. “How is this possible? I’m on birth control! We’re always so careful.”

The doctor tilts her head, looking through her notes. “No birth control method is 100% foolproof,” she says. “It’s rare but it can happen.”

Carlos’ fingers lace through yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

Tears well up in your eyes, the overwhelming emotions threatening to drown you. “I still have a year of school left. I wanted to be established in my own career … this wasn’t part of the plan.”

Carlos cups your face. “Hey,” he murmurs, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. You have me.”

You blink. “Carlos, I want to work. I want a career. I don’t want to be dependent on you.”

He smiles. "You won’t be dependent. You’ll be cared for. Isn’t that what you want?”

You take a step back. “I want to be my own person. I want to make my own choices.”

Carlos’ gaze darkens, the dominant edge returning. “You will be. But you’ll also be mine. That’s what is important now.”

***

You’ve quickly come to love the sensation of your growing belly, cherishing each gentle flutter and kick from the perfect being within, knowing that it’s a bond that only you and Carlos share.

“Good morning, little bean,” you whisper, rubbing the gentle swell of your belly. Every morning, this small act helps you bond with the life growing steadily inside of you.

Carlos enters the room, his hair still tousled from sleep. The morning sunlight casts a warm glow on his chiseled features. “Frijolito is lucky to have a such a beautiful mama,” he murmurs, sidling up to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. His hand finds its place on your belly, fingers splayed and feeling for any hint of movement.

“I am huge,” you complain with a mock pout.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss then pulling back to tilt your chin up. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“You have to say that,” you tease. “I’m carrying your baby.”

“Partly,” he admits, sliding his hand up to cup your face, “but mostly because it’s true. You would put Helen of Troy to shame.”

Weeks pass and your body continues to transform.

There’s a softness, a roundness, that wasn’t there before, and it’s something that Carlos revels in. His hand is constantly on your belly, possessive and protective. Every time another man’s gaze lingers a little too long on you, Carlos’ lips curve into a smirk, silently declaring his ownership.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You ask one evening as the two of you settle into bed.

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Enjoying what?”

“Having every man that looks at me know that I’m yours,” you poke him playfully on the chest.

“Maybe,” his hand slides down your body. “Is that a problem?”

You sigh, nestling closer to him. “No,” you admit. “It’s kind of nice, actually.”

Carlos grins, pressing a kiss to your belly. “That’s my girl.”

The months fly by and soon the reality of your impending motherhood sets in. There are nursery preparations, birthing classes, and endless discussions about baby names. Through it all, Carlos is by your side, excitement never wavering.

“Can you believe we’re going to be parents?” You marvel one day, looking around the nursery.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Carlos says. “You and our frijolito are my everything.”

Happy tears well up in your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest.

Carlos tightens his grip, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yo también te amo.”

The next race day arrives and as always, Carlos calm and collected. But recently there has been a different kind of energy to him, an intensity that was never there before.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you clutch his hand.

Carlos smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips and then another on your belly. “I promise,” he says, eyes locking with yours. “I have too much to come home to ever do otherwise.”

***

“It’s time,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets as another contraction hits.

Carlos lets you grip his hand impossibly tight. “Breathe, mi corazón,” he urges, wiping the sweat off your forehead.

Hours pass in a blur of pain and anticipation. Through it all, Carlos is by your side, his touch both comforting and grounding.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a small cry pierces the air. Tears stream down your face as you catch your first glimpse of your son, his tiny face scrunched up in protest.

“He’s absolutely perfect,” Carlos says thickly, tears gathering as he kisses you gently.

You smile weakly, the exhaustion of a long labour weighing you down. “Our little bean,” you whisper, cradling your son close.

Carlos wipes away an escaped tear. “Our frijolito,” his gaze never leaves your son’s face.

As you start feeding your son for the first time, Carlos’ face softens and his eyes fill with awe. “I can’t believe we made something so amazing,” he traces a finger over your son’s tiny hand.

You smile, heart swelling with love. “He’s perfect,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face.

Carlos leans down to press a soft kiss to your son’s forehead and then another to yours. “You did incredible. Thank you for giving me everything I could ever ask for.”

You smile. “We did this together.”

Carlos nods, his gaze locked onto your son’s face. “I promise you that I will always take care of you both. You will never have to worry about a thing.”

“I know," you whisper as you let contentment and tiredness drift you off to sleep.

As the days pass, Carlos becomes even more possessive and protective, his love for you and your son deepening with each passing moment. He is constantly by your side, reluctant to leave either of you for even a second.

One evening, as the two of you sit on the balcony, watching the sunset while your son dozes away, Carlos turns to you. “I want to give you more.”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “More what?”

Carlos smirks and pulls you close. “More children,” he murmurs, pecking your lips. “I want to fill you with my babies.”

You laugh, “One is enough for now.”

Carlos chuckles but his face is serious. “We’ll see.”

Carlos knows that he will ensure it happens just like he did before.

He’ll keep you bound to him forever.

2K notes · View notes

propertyofwicked · 1 month

Note

heyyy!!!

could i request lando x reader angst with some fluff? where the reader is stressed with exams (exam season just started for me😰) and lando just helps her get through it and comforts her during the sleepless nights.

i absolutely love your work, especially the secrets series!🧡

exam szn is invading my personal space rn too i cannot think about it without wanting to cry hehe. hope this meets ur expectations and sorry it took so long to respond <3

warnings: none, just fluff :)

masterlist

TAKE A BREAK - LN

y/n was always going to be the most beautiful woman that lando had ever seen, even now, as she sat slumped over her laptop, pen tucked into her bun and dark circles under her eyes, highlighted by the dull orange of her desk lamp in an otherwise dark room.

this was not a new situation for lando to find his girlfriend in - he’d seen her at her worst when she had been revising for her final exams years ago, whilst he was busy with his driving career. but this past week, he’d barely spent time with her, besides seeing her setting up her desk before he left in the morning, and eating a rushed dinner before she went straight back to studying. y/n was bound to crash soon, her body and mind overworked and over tired, but her resistance was strong. lando missed his girlfriend. yes, she was physically in the same apartment as him, but mentally she was so far away, completely unreachable to the outside world.

“hey,” he announced, leaning against the door frame. she mumbled a quick hello in response, not even looking away from the glowing screen in front of her.

“y/n?” he tried to get her attention again, still with a mumbled response. he pushed his body from where he was leaning, walking slowly over to rest on the back of her desk chair, his head lowering to press a kiss to the top of her head, “come to bed, angel.”

“i will in a minute,” she said, finally breaking her stare at her computer, leaning back to look at him. he finally got a good look at her face. she was still beautiful, but she was tired. she was pale, her eyes red from the strain and constant fight against exhaustion.

“no baby, you said that last night and crawled into bed 3 hours later.”

“i said i was sorry for waking you up,” she said sadly, her shoulders tensing, the shift to her posture causing her muscles to move for the first time in hours.

“i don’t care about you waking me up, i care about you clearly struggling. you need to take a break, angel,” he said, his tone harsh even when he tried to be as nice as possible.

“im fine, lan, i promise. ill come to bed in 10 minutes.”

“y/n,” he warned, no longer caring about his tone, “when was the last time you showered?” he added, out of genuine concern, however she did not take it in that way.

“what? why? do i smell?” she asked, raising her arm to sniff herself, lando physically restrained himself from laughing. she didn’t smell, but her hair was slightly greasy, purely from the amount of times she ran her hands through her hair out of frustration, or kept her head propped up, using her arm as support.

“y/n,” he says, using her full name, “you are going to shut your computer down, have a shower, and then go to bed. you can keep studying tomorrow but tonight, i want to spend time with my girlfriend before i have to leave the country again.”

she was reluctant to oblige, but she knew she’d been neglecting him in favour of studying. she did this every time she had an important essay due, or upcoming exams - her brain became laser focused to the extent of forgetting to look after herself and those around her, the deadline approaching only adding to the pressure. she closed her laptop, and stood, stretching her legs out in the process, not realising they had gone numb from sitting down for hours.

lando took to standing behind her, hands on her waist as he guided her into their bathroom. as he switched on the light, her eyes squeezed shut and a groan fell from her lips at the shock of the brightness.

“has that light always been so fucking bright?” she groaned, as lando laughed quietly, moving around her to set the shower up.

“that’s what happens when you sit in a dark hole for hours angel. when was the last time you left that room,” he asked, his hand under the water testing the temperature.

“erm, when we had dinner?”

“babe that was 6 hours ago,” he replied with a sigh, checking the time on his watch, “the showers warm enough now. get in. i’ll be in the other room.”

“you’re not showering with me?” she asked sadly. his eyes perked up at the thought of spending intimate time with her.

5 minutes later, they were both stood under the water, his hands massaging shampoo on her scalp. the warm water has loosened her muscles, and the feeling of lando’s hands on her bringing her back to a full sense of reality. she turned to face him, looking in his eyes as the water cleared the shampoo from her hair.

“im sorry,” she told him.

“you don’t need to be, angel. i just wish you’d take better care of yourself. i hate seeing you like this.”

“i know i just..” she said, before taking a deep breath, “i just need to pass this exam and then i’ll be back to normal, i promise.”

“y/n, you are the most intelligent person i know. there is no way you need to destroy yourself for the sake of an exam,” he replied, his hands moving to cup her jaw. she hoped the shower would mask the tears welling in her eyes. she couldn’t tell if the tears were from the kind hearted words or from the sheer stress she’d been bottling up. either way, lando could read her like a book.

he lowered his head, pulling her face closer to his, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and each cheek, and then moving to press a short but sweet his to her lips.

“i just don’t want to mess this up,” she said through tears, “ive worked so hard to get to where i am right now, i can’t afford a set back. i can’t mess this up, and i can’t think about correlation coefficients any longer without wanting to rip my hair out.”

“and you won’t mess it up,” he replies, choosing to ignore the words he doesn’t understand, marvelling at her ignorance to her own intelligence, “taking a break every now and again, looking after yourself, is not going to set you back or destroy your progress. you can’t keep going like this - the stress and the way you overwork yourself is going to set you back further than taking the evening off will, angel.”

“i just need to pas-”

“no, you need to take a step back. give yourself a break.”

“i know, i jus-”

“stop arguing with me or i’ll throw that damn laptop out of the window,” he said, interrupting her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“please don’t, i can’t afford a new one,” she joked, and lando smiled at hearing her laughing for the first time in weeks.

“i’ll buy you a new one,” he replied, pressing another kiss to her lips, “right, turn around i need to do the conditioner now.”

lando didn’t let y/n move another finger all night. he had wrapped her in a towel and sat her down on the toilet lid whilst he brought her in a cup of tea. he helped her climb into her pyjamas, and then sat her down between his legs as he dried her hair. they had crawled into bed afterwards, his arms reaching out to pull her to lay on his chest.

“thank you,” she mumbled against his neck, her eyes already closed out of exhaustion.

“don’t thank me,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss her forehead, “just promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself.”

“i promise,” she said, raising her pinky finger to interlock with his.

“tomorrow, you start taking an hour break for every two hours of work you do. and please, go outside, get some fresh air,” he said, pleading with her.

“half an hour,” she debated with him.

“an hour. end of,” he said, his decision final, “or, that laptop really is going.”

“you would never,” she replied, jokingly gasping at him.

“you wanna bet?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

436 notes · View notes

jaemlonfz · 2 months

Note

can you do something about svt members wearing suits and holding their baby in the carrier infront and going for some event and the reader thinking "is it too soon to be wanting baby #2" 🫢 thank you <333

ps: i took over a MONTH to write this and i still think its not that good, i did not review it and english isnt my first language so im sorry if theres grammar errors, i hope yall like it wc: 3,1 K tw: there's the explanation and then pure filth, overall its basically all sorts of positions, crempie, praise kink in most of them, lmk if i forgot something so i was doing everyone in suits and wanting baby #2 but I started to think it was a bit silly because they all looked the same, so I changed the story for most of them. anyways i hope you still liked it, i made it with a lot of love and i apologize for taking so long

Seungcheol

You and Scoups were a public couple, fans distrusted you for years, you were always openly saying how much you loved seventeen's songs and still always singing Seungcheol's excerpts, and he openly talking about the films you star in without the slightest shame. So when you guys finally came out as a couple, your fanbase wasn't shocked at all.

A few years later as a married couple, after a one-year hiatus, you were seen in public with scoups carrying two little girls, that's how they found out that you had become parents of twin girls.

Years later, now with your daughters a bit older, you were getting ready for an awards ceremony, your burgundy dress matching with scoups tie, your girls' dresses in light pink. You were looking for your earring in every corner of your room when you went down to the living room to ask if your husband was with him, but when you arrived in the living room you saw the most adorable scene ever, Seungcheol trying to fix one of the girls' hairstyle while the another was stuck to his back kissing his cheek.

You can tell you felt your stomach turn at the Scoups' serious look as he tried not to ruin his daughter's hair, while the other looked at her father as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Scoups was such a wonderful, caring and kind father.

You guys hadn't really brought up the subject of having kids anymore considering all the work you'd put in with both of them at once, but now it's a topic you'll actually talk about after seeing your husband being an extraordinary father.

It was only when you arrived at the awards ceremony that you realized you only had one earring in your ear.

“How beautiful my dear wife, you already want to have another baby”

Seungcheol said pushing his length into you, as he wiped your tears and brushed the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Will you let me fill you up so you can get pregnant again? Do you want to have a big belly carrying my son again?

Jeonghan

You knew you wanted to have another child with Jeonghan as soon as you saw him carrying your newborn son in the hospital, but that's something that absolutely every mother feels so you honestly didn't pay much attention to the feeling. But now, on the exact same date, a year later, you felt the same thing but with an animalistic intensity.

It was your son's first birthday and you decided to have a party with just the child's grandparents. With a maximum of ten balloons scattered around the large room, the grandparents amused by the baby's toothless smile, you decided to grab a candle and a lighter so you could sing personalized congratulations.

returning to the room with a candle and the lighter in your hand it was completely involuntary to rub your legs with emotion after seeing Jeonghan with your son in his arms. They were both wearing matching clothes, they both had the same smile, the same eyes and the same nose, they were like clones. the baby's thin hair was the same tone as yours but he was still a miniature Jeonghan, and seeing him smile so sincerely with his son in his arms made your eyes water a little.

“Jeonghan I want another baby." You admitted once the baby was sleeping in the crib.

“Do you really want another child or do you just want me to fill you?” He said smiling, and after your response in the blink of an eye your situation was completely different.

Your back arched as your ass was in the air and you cried and screamed with your face in the pillow.

“You asked for it, now you handle it.” Jeonghan said kissing your back.

Joshua

Joshua has always been a very giving person, every sunday going to church to pray for the well-being of others, and at least once a month going to orphanages to care for sick or orphaned children. And it was on one of these trips to the orphanage that you met.

Now years later Joshua continues with the same cherished habit of providing for others, and that's how you discovered that necessarily marrying him and carrying his child in your womb

Joshua was in bed when they called from the orphanage saying that a new child had arrived, as always Joshua shouted from the bed and ran asking if you would go with him to meet the new family member, you obviously said yes, quickly getting ready with him.

When you arrived in place, you ran to the bathroom because you were holding on too tightly to make a good impression on the child. returning to the giant garden looking for an unknown face, who you thought was around 4 or 5 years old, you saw Joshua's back and his arms as if he was waiting for something. Joshua quickly noticed your presence and turned to see you.

The child was definitely no older than 6 months old, Joshua held her with so much care, looked at her with so much care and love that you felt your blood pressure dropping.

Joshua was born to be a father, and you were the only one who hadn't realized that yet.

Now you had your legs as close together as possible, squeezing yourself constantly trying to hold in the liquid that would give you a child without letting a drop leak out.

As soon as you got home you admitted your dirty thoughts towards Joshua, who quickly took off your clothes, turned you around and filled you up.

“If you really want my son, don’t let a drop leak.” Joshua said from the kitchen, making you a sandwich while you smiled with completely red cheeks.

Junhui

It was the first time you had been away from your son for more than 10 hours, and Junhui was a wreck. Both had already cried because you missed your baby while he slept peacefully next to you, and now the day of true farewell had arrived.

You were going to a wedding a few hours away, so in case it was to late on the way back, you had already booked a hotel room just in case.

At the moment you were adjusting your heels sitting on the bed, while you saw Hunhui on the baby monitor talking to the adorable baby. you managed to hear a few words like “i’m going to miss you.” or “don’t cry too much in your grandmother’s ear.” Junhui was already ready with his suit and you, now late, ran to your son’s room to say goodbye too. but when you arrived at the door, when you saw Junhui's look at the child, you didn't know how to describe whether your heart was tender or swollen.

As expected, it was very late when the wedding ended and you had to sleep at the hotel, you could feel Junhui awake and restless by the way he moved in bed, and it left you with a wonderfull idea.

“You're such a good father." You said, panting on top of Junhui, riding his dick. “So worried about your son." Now you lay down in the perfect position to whisper in his ear

“Let’s give him a brother so he won’t be so alone, let’s have another child to worry about." You said and I could feel your cock twitching inside your tight, damaged interior

Soonyoung

it was yours daughter's first halloween, and quite obviously, soonyoung dressed her up as a tiger.

Yall had absolutely no party to go to, and honestly you thought the idea of going door to door with a baby in costume was a bit strange, so you only dressed up for some photos and to have a fun memory about your first halloween as a family.

Soonyoung obviously begs you for the whole family to be tigers, so while you were looking for a shirt of his with a tiger print or some other style of clothing, when you returned to the living room you saw the most heart-warming scene in the world.

Soonyoung was holding the small hands of the child, who was trying to stand, while they were both smiling widely, you couldn't help it and took a photo of the moment, certainly thinking about how beautiful it would look framed on the wall.

Now that your daughter was already asleep, you went to talk to soonyoung about the scene you saw and you were obviously teased about it.

“Since you liked me so much seeing our daughter, let’s have another one”

“Younggg…” You mumbled trying not to make noise so as not to wake the beloved child in the next room

“i also love seeing you with our baby, let’s do one more” He pushed his length into you, who groaned at the invasion without warning.

“Ohh… please soon, let’s have another one”

Wonwoo

In fact, wonwoo took the initiative to have another child with you.

Wonwoo has a younger brother and he can definitely say that it is a wonderful thing to have someone to look after and be able to talk to, so after a year of your baby being born wonwoo called you to talk about it.

The conversation was absolutely very short, he simply admitted that he wanted another child and you opened the robe you were wearing and let it fall to the floor

“Such a willing mother.” He kissed your chin and quickly moved down to your neck. “Such a willing wife”

“How can you be so willing to make me happy." He smiled ramming his cock into you, who twitched beneath him

“Are you so wet just thinking about me bearing another child? Do you like to imagine me filling your brim?”

You managed to hear a chuckle from him as you hurriedly shook your head answering the question. “You will look so beautiful swollen with my son”

Jihoon

Honestly there wasn't a specific moment that you knew you wanted to have another child with Jihoon, because you always knew that once you saw this man as a father, you would never stop, but I really think the penny dropped when your son asked for a sister.

You were having a movie night when suddenly your three year old son asked for a little sister. your face automatically turned to Jihoon, who as already looking at you.

You talked to your son and said you were going to talk to his father about it, and when you saw your son's reaction, you swore to yourself that you would give this child a giant family to love

“You can rest assured that you’re going to have a little sister." You heard Jihoon whispering in your son’s ear while he was still looking at you

“Jihoon…” you whimpered underneath him, your legs spread, your arms up being held by your husband’s strong hand

“We have to fulfill our firstborn’s wish, and now is the perfect time”

Jihoon was referring to the weekend he was spending with his grandparents, you were definitely going to be pregnant by the end of this sunday.

dokyeom -

Today was your cousin's wedding and you were desperately late. putting on your heels as you jumped up to your one-year-old daughter who was in her crib still in her pajamas, after all you left her there to get ready first and dress her up later, but distracted by the happiness of putting on makeup for a big event again you completely lost track of what time .

Mentally cursing yourself for messing around so much while doing your makeup, you entered the room imagining the little girl with her hair all tangled up, a dirty diaper stinking of poop and her tantruming with hunger, but when you opened your eye, preparing for the worst you saw dokyeom a hand without a lap.

He was holding her in his arms, trying to keep her awake so she could rest later. Dokyeom was divine with those formal clothes and kinda wet hair, you were led to think about your husband making you feel good thinking about having another child

She was already dressed beautifully, her suitcase was already packed, her hair was in a beautiful hairstyle and with a beautiful bow that matched her dress. Dokyeom had done all of this knowing you would be late.

“do you want to see me be a father again? did you like me seeing our daughter today?” dokyeom said as he kissed your sweaty neck.

“are you going to let me fill you up again? will you let me breed you?" he laughed at your scrunched up face with no coherent thoughts in your brain.

Mingyu

That Mingyu is a famous model that everyone knows, and that you, his makeup artist, had great chemistry with him, everyone knows, that's how you met. Now married with two daughters, brands caught your opportunity to do a commercial featuring Mingyu as his girls' father, so you did him in makeup for the shoot.

It was a casual commercial, something like them at a picnic, an outdoor field. With a brush you touch up the makeup on Mingyu's tanned skin while others arranging the scene.

In the scenes, Mingyu had one on his shoulders and the other was running hand in hand with her father or with the two playing together while he smiled admiringly. Seeing this scene was something that super swelled your heart with love and warmed your insides with emotion at seeing your husband and daughters.

When you got home at the end of the day, you were both exhausted and fell into your crib like rocks.

“Mingyu, give me another child” He wasted no time in pushing you onto the bed and holding your legs in the air and starting to push his length into your wet core.

“You were certainly excited about me seeing it in the commercial today, right? Do you want to have another child after you saw me looking so hot taking care of the girls” He talked to you while your eyes rolled constantly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to only let you sleep tonight after you have an baby in your womb.”

Minghao

You and Minghao always had in mind that you wanted someone to love and call family, technical children would only come as a bonus if your partner also liked the idea of procreating.

Minghao was a little piece of heaven, being everything good you could imagine, so when he thought about his thoughts about just wanting one person to call family without the obligatory need to involve a baby you were left in doubt.

Your first child was an accident and you discovered the pregnancy at 4 months, welcoming the pregnancy you saw the brightness in Minghao's eyes increasing even more, especially after your son was born.

Now, a few years later with an older child and already demonstrating some personality traits, you will see that any chance to bring lives with the same principles as Minghao you will definitely seize this opportunity.

So yes, practically you would get pregnant countless times if it meant several mini Minghao’s around the world.

“Let’s have another baby now Hao” You said as soon as Minghao sat on the bed getting ready to sleep, but now a night’s sleep is no longer guaranteed.

You were on your sides, lying on the bed, your pajamas were askew and your panties dragged to the side as Minghao pushed into you calmly.

“How beautiful asking me to get you pregnant, looking at me with such long eyes, your red cheeks and your sweaty hands.” He whispered in your ear slowly

“You were so nervous, did you think I would deny your request?” He kissed your neck moving his index finger to your sensitive spot “I will never deny you that”

Seungkwan

Seungkwan has always been romantic, and even after his first child was born he continued with this characteristic. Always bringing you flowers when he came home from work, bringing you your favorite chocolate or even asking for your favorite food to be delivered to your door while he was traveling.

So in his head, even though he knew that any basic conversation about having another child would probably end with you agreeing with him and you making the second child, but Seungkwan wanted to win over the second child, he wanted to win over you.

Suddenly Seungkwan would come home with clothes that were smaller than what your son was wearing because he had gotten "confused", sometimes he would take the foods you craved during pregnancy and ask you if it reminded you of anything or even buy a shirt written "big brother" for his son after all he hadn't even seen the print. So when you thought about it, you realized that Seungkwan was already way ahead of you, giving you clues about having another child from the beginning.

"Kwannie, if you wanted another baby you just had to tell me" You said on top of him, he had covered your face in shame the moment you discovered his plan and climbed on his dick.

"I didn't want to pressure you" He spoke shakily, you guys fit together so well. You were so magnificent on top of him.

"You deserve another child, and I will never feel pressured by something you do."

Vernon

Vernon has a good relationship with his sister. According to him, he and his sister were always friends and always counted on themselves in situations that their parents were unable to help. You have a good relationship with your brother, and you definitely agree with Vernon's wise words.

Gaining a sibling for both of us was like winning the lottery, receiving the best gift in the world, having a friend of your own blood. So you've definitely come to the conclusion that you're either going to have a couple of children or none at all, and as you're now going out with a five-year-old child, it's time to give the gift that you both managed to receive for the anxious firstborn.

“I forgot how addictive you are” Vernon mumbled as you moved on top of him.

“I think I’m going to try to get you pregnant every day from now on.”

Chan

Chan is a chaming person, and he actually its very good at making people do what he wanted, without them even knowing that. So when he saw you as a actual mother, holding your lilttle girl in your arms, Chan knew that all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was making you more and more of a mother and seeing you enjoying your motherhood.

Of course he would help around the house, he wanted to be a good husband/father so you could see his effort and give him a reward (a new baby)

Obviously Chan knew that your first pregnancy was very great and you did not suffer at all coparing to others mothers experience, and he knew if someday you started acting like that, it would be the end of the story. But he couldnt help himself when he saw you all curved up for him, with your tearing eyes begging for another baby

"Of couse i will give you another baby." He kissed your forehead as you mumbled below his muscular body

"How can i say no after you look at my so beautiful like that?" He whines in your ear seeing you tremble all up again.

"Such a beautiful mother." And yet again, Chan always get what he wants.

#seungcheol smut #jeonghan smut #joshua smut #junhui smut #hoshi smut #wonwoo smut #woozi smut #dokyeom smut #mingyu smut #minghao smut #seungkwan smut #vernon smut #lee chan smut #seventeen smut #seventeen

662 notes · View notes

zvdvdlvr · 3 months

Text

— Lunch Break

— 🫧. Synopsis. Spencer hasn’t been feeling well lately. When he accidentally gives you his lunch as well as yours, you have to leave work to make sure he gets his lunch and eats to make sure he gets better. But the thing is, no one knew Spencer had married someone.

— 🫧. Warnings. Blue!collar reader. Female reader. Collective group shock lmao. Foul language. Welder!reader. Pet names. Possible out of character Spencer but i dont really care. I’m so sleep deprived yall.

— 🫧. Other welder!reader pieces. Alive and Breathing.

“Bye, angel,” you murmured after pressing a kiss to your sleepin husband’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied tiredly, eyes opening the slightest bit. “I already put your lunch in your cooler. Be safe.”

You smiled. Of course, even though you have to leave at 2 in the morning, Spencer’s already five steps ahead. You turned to leave the bedroom but stopped after hearing him cough. “Before you leave- I got you a few more boxes of that DayQuill/NyQuill stuff and Mucinex. Should be on the counter. Make sure you take them, Spence. I know you haven’t been feeling well. Bye, I love you,” you spoke quickly, throwing your coat on.

Spencer felt a smile forming on his face. His wife: always attentive and gentle (to him at least). “I love you, baby.”

“Hey,” Spencer greeted, picking up his phone and heading out of the bullpen. “What’s up?” Spencer was confused: you didn’t usually call him or contact him when you were at work unless it was absolutely necessary. Were you in trouble? “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, angel. I’m coming over to drop off your lunch. You, uh,” your voice paused, probably observing other drivers’ movements at a red light. “You gave me my lunch and yours. So I’m on my way. Do you want me to come up or… drop it off? I’m all dirty ‘n everything,” you rambled.

“I think you look hot when you get off of work,” Spencer replied with a smile. He felt himself sigh. He was glad nothing had happened to you.

Your laugh crackled through the line. “That’s because it’s a very physical job, Spence.”

Spencer chuckled, “No, babe, I think you’re just… naturally very attractive.”

“You’re too good for me, Spence. Did you take your medicine? You sound pretty nasally,” you questioned.

“Yeah, I took it,” Spencer replied quietly with a smile on his face. You noticed everything- and Spencer was the profiler! “Anyway, I gotta go, babe. Drive safe, my beautiful wife. I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Spencer tucked his ohone back into his pocket and wandered back out to the bullpen. “Hey, so… I have something to tell you,” Spencer blurted out to Emily and Derek who were watching him like a hawk.

“What is it?” Emily asked immediately, eyebrows furrowing.

“So, I want to apologize for keeping this for so long but I just- I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t have believed me anyway but that’s not the point. The point is I want you to stay calm and don’t be mad at me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, kid, slow your roll. What’s goin’ on?” Derek asked.

Spencer looked at both Emily and Derek before sighing. “My wife is gonna be swinging by soon and… she’s… all I’m asking is don’t scare her away. Actually,” Spencer paused, smiling slightly, “she might scare you a little bit.”

Emily’s brows raised higher then Spencer previously thought possible. “You… What?” She asked, standing up.

“You’re actually joking.” Derek stated, face solemn. “You’re joking, man, come on.”

Spencer shrugged, hand coming up to pull the necklace his ring was on from under his shirt to show his coworkers. “We went to the courthouse one year, eleven months. two weeks, four days, and twelve hours ago.”

Derek blinked. “Are- You’re seriously not joking?”

“I have the documents at home to prove it,” Spencer replied, tucking it back under his shirt. “If, you know, you want to see them.”

“I’d rather see her in person,” Emily stated, already starting her pacing. “But like, you didn’t kidnap her or anything did you?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, believe me. She loves me, Emily. I love her.”

Derek sat, hands on his head. “So we missed the wedding and everything? You didn’t say a word, man.”

Spencer nodded. “We were gonna tell you, invite you over for our anniversary.”

“Spencer, what’s her name?” Emily asked suddenly.

“Who’s name?” A low, gravely voice asked. Aaron Hotchner stood, hands on his hips, staring each of his agents down.

“Spencer’s wife’s,” Derek responded slowly.

“Oh,” Hotch replied casually.

“You knew?!” Emily asked loudly, mouth dropped open in shock.

“I saw he added someone else to the insurance, and there was another emergency contact. I haven’t seen her though,” Hotch answered honestly.

“When’s she gonna be here?”

“Soon. She called me probably five minutes ago, so estimating the amount of traffic about this time, I’d guess probably ten minutes.”

“I assume you can find something to do for ten minutes?” The corner of Hotch’s lip turned up just the slightest bit, and he had a hint of amusement in his voice. When Derek finally tore his eyes off of Spencer and Emily bee-lined for her desk, Hotch turned around and stalked over to Rossi’s office to tell him the good news.

Spencer stood up when he heard the unmistakable sound of your steel-toed boots making comtact with the floor. A sweet smile painted his face as he gravitated to you, shoulders relaxing at your presence. “Hey, baby,” he whispered when he was close enough to you.

“Hi you,” you replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You brandished a brown paper bag, Spencer’s name written in your handwriting.

Emily watched you walk in. You were wearing two shirts, dark in color with small holes decorating the sleeves and the hem of both shirts. Your pants were dark and thick, dark liquids and stains all over them. The boots on your feet were definitely thick: steel toed if Emily had to guess. A physical worker, she put the pieces together. Electician? That wouldn’t explain all the stains. Mechanic? Couldn’t be: why would your shirts be all torn if you were fixing cars? Welder? The pieces fit, though Emily wasn’t too educated in that department. She had respect for you. Not many women Emily knew could handle the responsibilities of such a physical job, or handle all the creeps, jerks, and perverts that passed in your workplace.

“Derek,” Emily whisper-yelled. He looked up and she gestured to where Spencer had strode over to you.

“Come on.”

Emily stood up, brushing her hands on her pants and followed Derek to where you were conversing.

“-come back? He’s been slacking off too much, baby, you shouldn’t let him keep relying on you to get his stuff done,” Spencer rambled angrily.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Spence. How are you feeling? I brough- oh. Hi,” you greeted.

“Hi! Mrs. Reid, right?” Emily asked, sticking her hand out.

You smiled brightly and nodded. When you saw her hand and showed her your own: “I don’t, uh, think you’d want to do that,” you murmured.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Emily assured honestly.

You returned her genuine smile and clasped her hand. “Thank you. You’re… Emily? Right? And then you’re Derek?” You asked, turning to face Morgan.

“That’s us,” Morgan answered.

“I don’t think Spencer’s brought me up. I’m y/n Reid,” you introduced. “Sorry for all the grime. I came to drop off Spencer’s lunch,” you explained, shooting Spencer a smile, who kept his eyes trained on you the whole time.

“Good to meet you, y/n.” Emily said. “If… if you’re alright with it, I’d like to get the team together. To meet you. If,” she glanced between you and Spencer who was watching you unblinkingly, “that is okay with both of you? I don’t want to push you.”

Derek side eyed Emily. Penelope would probably scare y/n away, even though she didn’t mean to.

“Up to you, baby,” Spencer murmured when you turned to face him.

“Doesn’t bother me,” you answered. Glancing at your Casio, you nodded, “I’ve got an hour.”

“It’ll be fast,” Emily reassured with a smile.

Emily and Derek split up, Emily going up to get Rossi and Hotch, Derek rounding up JJ and Garcia.

“Are you sure, baby?” Spencer asked. He led you to his desk, setting down the bag you gave him. “I don’t- they-“

“Do you want us to do this another day? When I’m not in my work clothes?” You asked, refusing to sit down on anything.

Spencer shook his head. “No, no. I just want you to be prepared. They can be overwhelming.”

“‘Overwhelming’ I hear?”

You turned your head and saw two men and Emily walking towards you both. The younger looking one was Hotchner because you knew David Rossi’s face; him being a famous author and everything.

“Hello! You must be the missus,” Rossi greeted, sticking his hand out. Good lord, you thought, feds and their handshakes.

You showed Rossi your dirt stained hands and opened her mouth.

“We’ve touched dead bodies, y/n. I promise we won’t get upset at a little grease,” Emily explained gently. Good god, you thought.

Regardless, you shook Rossi and Hotch’s hand, grateful for Emily’s reassurance. Spencer wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He leaned in, whispering “You’re doing great, baby.”

“So,” Hotch began, “I want to personally thank you for keeping Reid sane and healthy.”

Emily and Rossi both laughed. “Yeah, he’s got enough trouble on the field,” Emily joked.

You elbowed Spencer, a grin painting your face. “Is that right?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s right or not: I’ll always come back to you,” Spencer replies softly, eyed swiftly darting to your lips.

“Spencer!” You reprimanded, smacking him (lightly) on the stomach. “Your bosses are right there, you-“

A loud shriek cut you off, making everyone’s gaze dart to a person behind you. “She’s real! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Reid! You didn’t even drop a singular hint that you were hitched!”

Spencer chuckled, pulling your form a little closer to his. “If I remember correctly, JJ saw my ring when I was asleep on the plane: I assumed she had told everyone and you didn’t want to bring it up.”

“For a genius, you’re pretty dumb,” a new voice cut in. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” The blonde smiled warmly and brought you in for a swift hug.

“Ah! Hello, you gorgeous soul! I’m Penelope!” A shorter blonde, more colorful and energetic, embraced you. “I’m so glad to meet you, even though, you know, I didn’t even knew you existed until about two minutes ago.” She shot your husband a look. “But, I would cery much like to get to know you, as would JJ and Emily if you can’t tell.”

You smiled. “I’d love to now, but seeing as I’m technically on my lunch break, I don’t think I’ll have time to do everything you probably have in mind. Could we,” you turned to Spencer, eyes glinting, “bring them over for dinner?”

“Anything you want, babe,” Spencer replied. Truly, if you had asked him to give you his heart, he would find a way to rip the organ out of his chest and give it to you in his bood stained hands. Dinner? No problem.

“I’ll give you my number. Penelope could make a groupchat or something,” you suggested.

Everyone nodded. Hotch was looking forward to this dinner. And Rossi, no matter what he said.

After you gave Penelope your phone number and everyone dispersed, Emily and Derek were wise enough to go busy themselves with a vending machine.

“You alright, baby?” Spencer asked.

You nodded. “I’m alright. Glad I finally met them. I, uh, hope you’re not mad about the dinner thing.”

Spencer scoffed. “I wouldn’t get mad over that.”

You shrugged. “Well. I should probably head back to work. Sorry for getting you all dirty,” you apologized again, pulling away from Spencer quickly, remembering you were in your work attire.

“It’s alright, baby. ‘M just glad I got to see you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smile forming on your face. “You’ve been awfully sappy lately, Spence. Are you sure you’re alright? I’m seriously considering taking you to a doctor.”

Spencer laughed. “I’m your sap,” he responded casually.

“Okay. Seriously. Stop making me get lost in your eyes because I got to go to work. Bye. I love you,” you babbled, pulling Spencer down to kiss you.

“Bye, wife,” Spencer whispered into your lips.

“Bye, husband.”

846 notes · View notes

gr1mstar · 4 months

Text

Timeless lover - part II

notes: this is a second part of an one shot i did a few days ago. i don’t think it will be a part III because my account is dying? i think i was reported once and from then my post don’t get much the attention anymore. how can i fix this?

contains: sukuna ryomen x f!reader, reincarnation, past lovers, curse words (not a lot of them), sfw, human sukuna (from that time when he was actually human), flashbacks, lovers to strangers, mentions of death, sick reader (in the past), sorcerer reader (present time), sukuna has sentiments?, sukuna is soft for reader, past sukuna looks kinda like itadori yuji, not the same tho, but very similar, mention of pills, slightly an au because sukuna will never be this nice, reader is older than yuji but sukuna is older? that makes sense?

check out the first part first if you didn’t already - here

“sukuna”

“sukuna. that’s my name, keep that in mind, doll” the man in front of you spoke, taking your chin in his big hands and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

‘what a shade of red…’ you thought, analyzing the irises that looked at you with almost hatred. ‘i despise red.’ you continued, continuing to look in his direction, seeing that he was not backing up.

“not afraid, i see. what a particular sight,” he muttered, finally leaving your chin alone. after some time, he took a few steps back, running his hand through his hair. “what are you exactly?”

“what do you mean?” you found yourself asking, now looking at the tree that stood tall beside you two.

“are you not afraid to die? people usually are scared of me, fearing that i would fight them and win, resulting in their death.” the man continued, taking a few steps just to be beside you.

thinking back, when you were younger you were afraid of death. it was a terrifying thought, but after all the bullshit you went through, you found yourself not having the exact same mentality.

your time was limited, death being the only thing you were certain it was coming for you. what did you have? nothing. so that’s why you set out to live your life to the fullest, or well… how much is left of it.

you were strong. stronger than others.

“no. only the weak are afraid.”

the familiar man that stood in front of you, one intimidating, now was a big puppy, his eyes showed emotions, emotions that a curse should never have. so what was different?

“my love, no time no see…” he stared, taking a few steps in your direction, his arms parting, beckoning you to come closer to him for a hug.

‘is he crazy? what happened to yuji?’ but you were never able to answer your question, because he interrupted your thoughts.

“didn't you miss me? i've been waiting for you for hundreds of years… love-”

“don’t. i am not such a thing.” now was your time to interrupt him, taking a step back. looking at your surroundings, you found megumi looking at you with shock, a light line of blood staining his face. “megumi,” you continued, addressing the back-haired boy, “run.”

“i think i will remember you always,” you confessed, looking at the man who stood behind you, a hand on your waist and the other in your hair.

looking at the sky, you could see the millions of stars smiling happily back at you. the night was peaceful, but you knew well that the following morning would not be.

“and you will never forget about the scolding you will receive tomorrow” he continued, placing a sweet kiss in your hair.

“maybe. but it was worth it. you deserve all my time”

“and you deserve all the world, my love.” was his response, closing his eyes and praying that you would be fine.

the stars were bright and you could not stop yourself from asking: ‘when i become a star too, i will shine this beautifully?’

“so. where is it?” the white-haired man asked, hands in his pocket and looking between me, megumi, and now-yuji-really-yuji.

there was a moment of silence, the sensei looking funnily at the three sorcerers. you found the silence ironic, so you tried to break it using a fake cough, but yuji beat you to it, speaking.

“i- i kinda ate that thing.”

another pause. now you were eyeing megumi, who looked somewhat constipated. it was true really, it was a very shitty moment-

“really?”

“yes, really. i am fine, kuna. you don’t need to worry, go to your mission, beat some ass, and came back to me for my cuddles, okay?” you tried to make a compromise, but the red-eye man that stood in front of you didn’t want to listen.

“i’m not going. the maid told me that you were feeling lightheaded all morning, i want to be with you-”

“but people would die if you’re not going, sukuna. i don’t want-”

“let them die fucking hell. who is more important?” he interrupted you, his angry face making you roll your eyes. he was a stubborn bitch when he wanted.

after a moment of silence, he started approaching you, taking your neck gently with his hand and making you look at him. “answer me. who is more important?”

you wanted to scream in his face that ‘the rest of the world is more important than me. who i am? a sick woman simping over a handsome man”, but you could not do that. it was going to make him more angry than he was already.

“me. i’m the important one.”

“good girl”

“so… what’s your relationship with sukuna? the king of curses, really?” the principal asked, looking from behind his glasses at you, with an eyebrow raised.

“i really don’t know. he looked at me… somewhat differently than the rest. i think he knew me from somewhere, but i don’t know.” was your response, signing and putting your head against the couch cushion.

“in any case, we must be careful. it's sukuna after all, we have to expect anything.” gojo responded, playing with his blindfold.

it was strange to see gojo wearing a blindfold reader than the glasses you were used to. the first time you saw him, you asked about it, his response making you feel bad for him.

at the same time, you could not resist asking him: “kinky much?”

“gojo is right. let’s be careful.” yoga spoke, and then continued. “now, what about yuji?”

“what about him? he would not be a part of the jujutsu high?” you found satoru asking, his now naked eye looking at yaga.

he looked so… intimidating without something covering his eyes.

“the elders want him killed.” the principal continued.

“no”

“what do you mean no?”

“i said no, kuna. meeting my parents would be a bad thing,” you said, looking at your pale hand. sukuna was playing with your fingers.

“but why?” he complained, looking like a kid who just got his candy stolen. “it could be a great opportunity to show them you are in good hands-”

“no, sukuna.” you interrupted him, taking a break from his attitude. “they would freak out and probably never allow me to meet you ever again.”

“i could kill them-” he started speaking, but you interrupted him harshly.

“absolutely not.”

“how are you feeling?”

“the same really. i mean it was pretty gross at the beginning but it went away.” yuji spoke happily, making his way to sit beside you on a bench.

the conversation you had a few minutes ago was still fresh, but you were glad that gojo was able to convince the higher-ups to not execute yuji.

“i’m glad you are okay, yuji. i heard you can control him too?”

“yes and no. i feel his presence in my mind, i can feel him too.”

“so you… you have any idea how he knows me?” you asked, a little bit of hope lingering in the air.

“not really. he always bothers me about you, but at the same time he doesn’t want to talk with you.”

“why you don’t wanna talk with me? kuna!”

you were met with silence. you could feel that he was annoyed, but somewhat you liked how he looked all… angry. he was sexy. the red eyes that stared at you a few minutes ago were now filled with jealousy, and the little crease on his forehead was just too cute to ignore.

“are you jealous?” you continued your question, tilting your head a little bit to the right to look at him better.

‘i would kill for this man’ you found yourself thinking, admiring his attractive features.

“no. i just don’t like the way he looks at you.” and then he continued, taking your head in his big hands, leaving a little kiss on the tip of the nose. “you are mine.”

“yours always.”

“he what?” you shouted, tightly clutching the phone to your ear as if it was ready to fly out of the blue.

“he ripped his heart out.” magumi answered again, then continued “you should come here, maybe say goodbye? i don’t really know.”

and so you did, and in a few minutes, you were at the jujutsu high, ready to see a poor boy who fell pray in the hands of a curse.

“you were with him?”

“yes.” the black-haired boy answered, immediately sighing. “i saw everything.”

“where was gojo?” you asked again, getting on your feet and ready to kick the white hair man’s ass.

“i don’t fucking know.”

seeing a dead person on the table was not something you were planning to see on your holiday in tokyo. yuji, now fully naked, was lying cold on the operating table. gojo just left the room to bring shoko to examine the boy, so you were all alone with a dead corpse and possibly a curse inside.

“sukuna…”

you were not sure what got into you, but somehow you found yourself talking with yuji and in the same time with sukuna.

“i know, you hate humans and shit. and i’m sorry i don’t remember you, or that i know you? i’m confused. i just… can i ask something?”

you sighed.

“can you bring yuji back? for me?”

a few minutes passed in silence. it was childish, really. thinking that ‘the king of curses’ would respond and listen to a human.

but it did. sukuna brought yuji back.

“happy birthday, princess.” started your lover, holding out a bouquet of wildflowers to you. it was not well done, some flowers were poorly placed and some even had some weeds next to them, but you appreciated the gesture.

“it’s so beautiful, kuna.” you responded, making your way to him for a kiss. “when did you have time to make thus?”

“i’ll always make time for you, you know that.” he responded, taking another sweet kiss from you. “nos, make a wish.”

“a wish?” you asked, “but didn't we need a cake for that? and candles?”

“just pretend, you know. we don’t have a cake right now, and it’s almost midnight. you show to make a wish.”

“okay, okay.” you laughed, taking the bouquet and hugging it.

‘i wish… to be with him forever’

“no! i can’t be with you. you are-”

“i’m what? last time we met, those weren’t your words, love.” the red-eyed man spoke, taking a few steps in your direction.

“it was all in the past. last time we met? that was a few weeks ago, sukuna. i don’t know you!” you shouted, keeping a fair share of distance. “i’m not your love anymore, so just give up, forget all about it.”

“i can’t do that. you know that, my love. i can’t”

“bring yuji back,” you commanded, looking at the man in front of you with despair.

he told you the truth. all your dreams and all your nightmares were just memories. memories from your past life, and so you lied to him that you didn’t remember anything, too afraid to tell the truth.

your life has just been turned upside down by a boy who ate your ex-boyfriend's finger. what a beautiful life you have, isn't it?

“kuna,” you asked, playing with your lover's hair.

“yes, princess?”

“i want you all to myself. i want to always be with you, together.”

“bring yuji back, you monster!”

“you are not a monster, kuna. you are a beautiful man, with a big heart. people just misunderstand you.”

“i hate you. i hate you, you broke me. because of you, i have insomnia, because of you i’m miserable. because of you, i used to think i’m crazy, you piece of shit”

“i love you. i will always love you. because of you, i smile more, because of you i feel alive again and because of you i will die at peace, knowing that you will be here when i wake up again, waiting for me.” you spoke gently, taking his rough hand in yours.

“promise me, kuna. promise me that you will find me in my next life, and we will be together again, even though i will not remember anything.”

“i’m not breaking my promise, princess.”

the photos were taken from pinterest

tags: @wr4inn @cyzvx @sunnshinie @guinevere666 @periodbloodmanipulator @esauritamaviva @uhnanix @shadowstar123

465 notes · View notes

wrixthesley · 9 months

Text

𝑮𝑨𝒁𝑬 | 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑨

warnings: dubcon, stalking, yandere childe, alcohol consumption, facial, blow job, fem reader, degradation, cum eating(?), snowballing, breath play

wc: 4.1k

a/n: im baaaaack, also this is for @jozhenji ily bitch mwah

You hate Snezhnaya.

The cold that bites at your cheeks, the way your bones ache if you stand outside too long, and how blinding the snow can be on the days where the sun is the brightest. You hate holding onto candle light to maneuver your way down the hallway of your house, only to hear talk of the Fatui growing in size and manipulating more people into joining under the harbingers from the neighbors that stop by to chat in front of your door late at night.

“They each have their own agenda.” One of them says, as if that’s supposed to justify their actions, like they’re not all connected in some way.

“Did you hear Ajax got into another fight?”

“Again?”

You hate him. Ajax. You hate how he always needs to be the center of attention.

You hate his laughter, his gaze, the way he starts fight after fight and how he doesn’t care if his father cries or threatens to send him to the military. You hate how he knows so much, how he thrives off of the adrenaline that runs through his veins when he knows he’s won, when he can taste it, feel it in his hands and configure it so that it adds fuel to the fire burning brightest in his chest. It’s the one of the only times his smile reaches his eyes.

You hate that it’s the same smile when he looks at you. When he thinks that he can barge in on your walks to get firewood, or when he finds one of your siblings and walks them home. He only wanted to make sure they would get home safe, he swears.

If Ajax could put his pride on a pedestal, he would. He would bellow in letting people watch as it grows and swallows everything in its path to take up more space, thriving on the marvel painted on people’s faces who pass, who watch as he leaves the small village of your hometown to join the Fatui. It shouldn’t have come as a shock when he was recognized because of his ability to fight.

You think about the time that he went missing for three days causing a search party that grew so rapidly in size because his father is a respectable man, it hurt to see how little he slept. It hurt your community to see him attempt to console his other children.

It hurt even more when you were the one Ajax showed up in front of first.

You were looking out to the horizon, the firewood that had been collected by your side, stopping to enjoy the hot stew you had prepared for your siblings in the thermos that had been carefully wrapped to protect it from the bitter temperatures. It wasn’t exactly as hot as you expected but you welcomed the few seconds of warmth brought to your lips. It’s comforting and while looking out to the horizon, you make a silent promise to yourself to move to a nation that is always sunny, where the winds are warm, and the waters are blue. Something that would help your soul feel weightless in contrast to your current surroundings.

When the forest is covered in snow you can hear everything, the branches that fall under the weight of the ice, the crunching of footsteps when someone passes by, and even the curses of the men who were fetching more wood for their wives; tired, exhausted, and numb.

That day he came back, you didn’t expect to hear him, much less see him.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You knew his voice, whipping your head around so fast because you never heard his footsteps approaching. His nose was bleeding, staining his mouth and shirt. “It’s nothing compared to you.” He smiled after wiping the blood off his nose and mouth with his sleeve, watching you in awe of how relieved you must have been when he showed himself to you.

He stumbles forward a little, laughs, “Hey, I lov-I’ve loved you from the moment we met.”

You’re the last thing he sees before he blacks out.

Years have passed since then. You watch when Teucer and Tonia come running by with their new toys, how much easier it gets for his father to take care of himself when he’s promised that Ajax is okay and the financial hardship doesn’t consume his very being. It’s hard not to smile when Teucer looks up at you with a toothy grin, begging you to play with him again.

You’ve never been able to tell him no, even though he has the same eyes as his older brother.

You feel uneasy when Pulcinella knocks at your door one evening.

It’s routine for him to visit Ajax’s home, he is the one who offered him the position in the Fatui, you knew he had good combat skills but never would have guessed it was enough for him to be recognized as one of the harbingers. His name is no longer familiar, replaced with Tartaglia. He erases the name given to him, fully accepting his role.

You open your door for him, it would be rude not to answer when the mayor comes to your door.

He smiles gently at you, it does nothing to relieve your nerves, makes goosebumps run down your spine and you will yourself to meet his gaze and return a smile that you would never call your own.

“For you.”

You let him place the box in your hand, it's rectangular, flat, and wrapped beautifully. It makes your stomach drop when his hand touches yours, you can feel a letter slip in between your hand and his, it reminds you of when your grandmother would place chocolates in your hand when you were a child.

“Thank you.” You mumble, mouth dry and lips chapped from the unexpected visit. He nods, leaving you and waving goodbye at Ajax’s family.

You set the box down next to the fireplace, you can hear the crackles from the wood engulfed in flames, it makes you feel less lonely at night. Now that your siblings have gone and left, you’re left to take care of the house your parents had left behind.

You carefully unwrap the bow that sits on top, folding it neatly beside you. Your palms are sweaty when you peel back the wrapping paper. The outside is revealed with the name of an expensive boutique known for the intricate patterns of beautifully displayed lingerie.

You stare at it in disbelief, the measurements are your size down to the millimeter, you feel like screaming. Like locking yourself in your home, blocking out the windows and doors so that no one, no one else could ever invade your privacy the way that he has.

The black lace is decorated with hints of glitter and the satin lines it feels so, so fine. If it were from anyone else you would be enamored, delighted to wear this for someone that you held feelings for, but the only thing you feel is fear.

You remember the letter that was placed in your hands.

You wish you hadn’t opened it. He only speaks of the past, how he never got to tell you how grateful and happy he was to see you after he had been missing for so long.

When you returned home with Ajax, he was different, asking how many days have passed to everyone that came to visit him during his recovery, contemplating how time passes differently where he was in. When you would see him, you had reassured him over and over that it was three days, though he argued it had been three months. He used to make you retell the story again, and again, and again going over the most miniscule details until you were in tears telling him that it’s all you can remember.

You throw the box and letter into the fire, watching the flames consume it all. You spend the remainder of the night fitting whatever parts of your life that you could in a suitcase.

You leave the next morning.

Your life in Fontaine is calmer than back home, you’re near the ocean and you bask in the warm windy hills during the day or dive into the ocean once you’ve finished your work at the small little dress boutique in the middle of the city.

Your boss teases you about one of the Gardes that have caught your attention when he patrols, you even sparked up a conversation about your favorite flowers you’ve encountered in Fontaine.

“Romaritime flowers!” you exclaim, “They’re beautiful. They look so pure in and out of the water.”

He places one in your hands the next time you meet, promising to take you on a proper date when he finishes patrol.

You assume the bouquet of them at your front door was from him, assume that you would see him that night when you closed the boutique and assume that he would ask where you would like to go next.

You spent that morning getting ready for work. Donning one of your favorite dresses, it compliments you well enough to make you stand out, but still allows you to work comfortably. It’s something your boss had given to you when you first arrived in Fontaine, the excuse was that you also needed something when you would go out. How else would you fit in?

You cried at her kindness, something you had not encountered in years.

You finish work that night, assuring your boss that you would close up. She gives you a hug, tells you that she wants to hear all about it when you come back after your day off.

The clouds start to darken when she leaves. You hope it’s only temporary.

You imagine this is what heartbreak feels like.

To trust someone with your feelings so easily only to be faced with the hard realization that they didn’t seem to care about that trust to begin with. The rain, which you hoped was short lived, only rubs salt in the wound. It’s pouring, your shoes are in your hands and your dress is stuck to your body. You waited for two hours after the boutique closed for him to come by, you waited another hour after his patrol ended. You finally left after ten more minutes, when a young woman knew the look on your face and offered you her umbrella. You politely declined, assured her that you would be okay.

In the end you’re left disappointed, cold, and wet. It reminds you of the numerous times you would come home from the harsh snowfall in Snezhnaya, greeted with silence when you stepped foot into your house shivering and attempting to start a fire. You hated it.

You ignore the stares from couples strolling the night, instead focusing on the cool pavement beneath your bare feet, how the rain feels somewhat cooling to your face and how you can hide your tears.

It’s better this way, to only rely on yourself. You’re all you have after all.

When you return home, you toss your shoes outside to dry. Slamming the door behind you and begin struggling to peel off your dress because the fabric is soaking wet and it’s stubbornly sticking to your skin. You curse when it doesn’t come off, panting and pulling it over your head, you step on something sharp, cursing again when you finally throw your dress off and the tears threaten to spill. You curse and throw the dress into the corner of your living room.

You’re left cold, shivering, and only in your bra and panties when you look at the blood from your foot. You begin to cry.

Your gaze then follows the trail of broken glass on your floor, the pool of water leading up to the broken vase of the Romaritime flowers.

“Do you let others stare at you like this?”

Your blood runs cold. You remember the same feeling back when he found you staring out into the horizon all those years ago.

He places a hand over your mouth, holds you flush against his chest when he sneaks up from behind you. “Shh, s’kay.”

You can’t scream, you squirm in his hold, kicking and clawing at his arm holding your face. He thinks it would be fun to allow you to think he’s off balance.

You shift all your weight onto him, hoping that in the fall you’ll have enough time to run, to hide, to fight. You could run to your neighbor’s house, the nice little old couple that lives behind you and hide in their garden until you’re safe. You wish you were safe, you wish you were home sooner. Oh fuck, if only you hadn’t waited for so long into the night.

He grabs your wrist before you’re able to move, bringing you back to him. You force yourself to find strength to move, to be able to turn around and face him. He anticipates this, he spins you around like a dancing couple would.

He laughs once and you stop.

You no longer want to look, you can only see the boy who was missing smiling and complimenting you with blood running down his nose, you remember the lingerie he sent when you were still in the village, how your stomach dropped when the mayor knocked at your door.

Nothing compares to this, to the goosebumps littering your skin when he peers down at you, blue eyes that don’t ever leave your gaze and make you feel like you’re drowning in the sea waters that surround Fontaine.

“I was waiting for you” he whispers, peppering your face with kisses while you stand there, frozen. It’s similar to the time when he collapsed in front of you, only this time you can’t find the words to scream.

It’s funny how this time he’s found you. Your poor attempt at hiding from him is amusing.

“Missed you so much” he continues to kiss you, makes his way down to your collarbones and doesn’t hesitate to get on his knees to kiss the softness of your stomach or the tops of your breasts that are exposed to him.

“Should have locked you up you know? You ran from me, took me forever to find you.”

“Ajax” you whisper, the tears that sting your eyes are threatening to spill. “Why are you here?”

You hold in a sob, you know why. You’ve always known why he was enamored by you.

“Does it matter?” he breathes, shifting his position so he is behind you again, kissing the tears off the side of your face, watching how your breathing shifts when his cold hands touch the bare skin exposed to him.

“Had to pay that Garde off really well. He wasn’t cheap, you know?”

Your heart breaks further, the sob you were holding building into your throat. “You’re so worth it though, pretty little thing. Look at how I found you, fuck, you missed me too didn’t you?”

He’s guiding you to your couch, laying you down while he towers over you. You feel nauseous when you feel his hardening cock through his pants, “look at you, look at you!” He laughs again, another bout of tears flowing down your cheeks, hot and heavy.

He leans down to kiss you, you turn your head but Ajax isn’t opposed to using force to get what he wants, you know this. You’ve always known this. He takes your face into his hands again, squishing your cheeks together like he did before except his gaze is demanding, icy, and bitter.

“Kiss me back”

You oblige, letting him press his lips against yours and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You flinch at the roll of his lips, clutching at his shirt when he groans into your mouth. He mistakes this as want, giving you more until you’re consumed by him, his presence, his scent, his touch.

He breaks away to let you breathe, smiles at the string of spit that connects both of you and how your eyes are hazing, even though he can’t tell if it’s from crying or from how dizzy he’s made you when he kissed you.

“Let’s celebrate” He’s off of you before you can register what he said, grabbing a bottle of one of Mondstat’s best wines. He’s unceremonious, rogue even, when he pops the cork off and takes a drink straight from the bottle before dipping back down to kiss you.

He didn’t swallow much to your surprise, he let the wine pass from his mouth to yours. Pulling away to watch your face scrunch up at the taste, “s’good” he slurs, taking another drink and swallowing this time.

“Here.” He’s pulling you to sit up, he’s so fast it’s hard to follow what he’s thinking, what he’s doing. He’s taking another drink again, it’s smaller this time, more like a sip that he thinks is adequate for you.

He doesn’t let you pull back, his hand is on the nape of your neck making sure you can’t escape his intensity. You try to keep up, letting his tongue enter your mouth and swirl with his. It’s so sloppy, so hot, and sticky that it makes your head spin. He only gives you a break to drink more wine, to make you both drink more.

He keeps giving you more and more, loves when you get weaker and you don’t protest as much anymore. When you whine and start anticipating the alcohol from his mouth to yours, it makes the taste more bearable and your thoughts aren’t as loud in your head.

The wine keeps spilling from the corners of your mouth, leaving a little trail of purple-red for him to lick up to. He’s sucking at the skin of your neck, finding your pulse point so easily. His teeth nip at your skin, you don’t mean to lean into him, the alcohol is making you slow to react. He swears he hears a small moan escape your lips when he nips at the sensitive skin again.

His hand slides down your chest, feeling your tits through the fabric of your bra, it’s still wet.

“Ajax” you slur, “wanna wait” you say. He looks at you, he notices the tears again. You feel them spill, you’re cold. You cling onto him because at least he’s offering you that sliver of comfort.

“Wait?” He repeats, licking a tear off of your cheek.

“Why would I wait when I know you want me too?” He whispers in your ear, his hands unclasping your bra in one go. His touch is cold, similar to how it feels when you first go into the sea. Your body has to get use to it, it starts to warm up and you feel like you could swim and float for hours.

It’s the same with his touch, the cool tips of his fingers warm up the more he squeezes. He likes the sound you make when he pinches at your nipples, he takes one into his mouth, sucking and licking. Groaning when he hears the little whimpers you try to hold back.

He makes his way back up to your lips again, grabs your hands that are clutching at his sides to guide them down to palm the shape of his cock through his pants.

He’s dreamt of this for so long.

“Oh fuck” he pants, his breath hitting your lips before he’s kissing you again, his tongue feels like he’s lapping into your mouth getting as sloppy as possible as if you’re going to vanish again. His tongue rolls over yours until he’s aching, cock throbbing for attention.

“Hey, feel me here.” He pants, eyes red rimmed and the blue of his irises brighter. You feel like you could drown in them.

He takes your hand and holds it in his, tossing his vision on your table. He’s undoing his belt & pulling his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

He wraps your hand around the base, guides you in how fast and how much pressure to place around him, when he lets go of your hand you can feel him looking at you. You’re focused on the length of him, how heavy and hot he feels against your hand.

You feel like crying again. You oblige him because at least he’ll leave you alone sooner, you’re just another thing for him to win over, to declare victory before he gets bored with you and moves on to this next challenge.

“More fuck, please more” he pants, hips stuttering into your hand. You can feel the sticky, hot precum that coats the tip of his dick and now your hand. You look up at him and see that he’s got his head tipped back, moaning about how hot you are, how good you are, how he’s thought about this since you saved him. Since you found him, how he’s been in love with you since he found you looking out into the horizon. Even before, he’s been in love with you since the beginning, since he saw you.

“You owe me this.” he breathes.

“What?”

He laughs again, the same one that haunts you.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. I had you watched wherever you went, I made sure your siblings got into the school they wanted, fuck I even followed you here.”

He takes your hand in his, knows that your hand is coated in his pre cum, takes one of your fingers and licks it up the length. His eyes ever leave yours as he does.

“You should thank me.” He deadpans, cock still throbbing and hard when he stands up at full height.

“Thank me.” He repeats the length of his dick is on your face, rutting against your cheek until the tip meets your lips.

“Yeah, that's how you should do it.” He smiles, the one that meets his eyes. The genuine one.

He’s holding on to the back of your head before you can move. He doesn’t care if your hair is messy, it's almost dry now. He takes your hand again, planting it onto his thigh for leverage.

His grip returns to the base of his cock, tapping the tip on your lips again.

You don’t open your mouth, new tears building up in your waterline. He shows no remorse for what he’s doing, no concern, he thinks he deserves this. It’s the least he deserves for what he’s done for you.

He pinches your nose, catching you when you part your lips to shove his length into your mouth.

You cry, struggling to breathe at the pace he starts at.

“Woulda been so gentle to you if you would have been good, fuck.”

He seethes, eyes rolling into the back of his head when both of his hands are holding your head to match his hips. Your nails are digging into his thighs, your strength unmatched for how you try to push yourself off of him as he pulls you forward on his length. He can’t handle the hot, wet, tightness of the back of your throat.

“Fuck yes, more, more, more” he chants, pinching your nose again to see you panic when you look up again, he loves you like this. When your chin is covered in spit and tears and his balls hit you with every rut of his hips.

“God, gonna paint your fucking face, slut. Gonna cover you in my cum so you can never forget who you belong to”

You can feel that he’s getting close, he grants you grace for only one second before he’s holding your jaw in his hand again.

You take in gulps of air, coughing, and crying while he forces you to look at him.

“Don’t run from me again.” He seethes, forcing you back down on his length.

He’s ruthless this time, uncaring for the way your eyes can’t focus, or how you look like you’re going to pass out. You’re vision keeps going in and out, you can hear yourself. How you choke and gag around his length how he curses with each “ack. ack. ack” of his dick hitting the back of your throat.

“Gonna cum—shit”

He pulls you off, using one of his hands to keep you in place while he jacks himself off with the other.

“Say it, say who you belong to.”

You can’t understand, hazy vision threatening to go black.

“Fuck, say it and I’ll cum. I’ll cover your fucking face and never leave you. You understand? You’re mine. “

You don’t know what he’s rambling on about. You want to plead with him, talk this out and let him know he could pursue someone else.

“Ajax” you rasp.

“Yeah? You belong to me don’t you? Oh fuck—“

He groans, doesn’t hold his voice back, calling you all sorts of names but mostly that you’re his, his, his.

His cum on your face should be enough to prove it. He looks at you like a masterpiece, taking his finger and dragging it through his cum and putting it into his mouth before kissing you.

“Don’t let anyone else see you like this.”

930 notes · View notes

sanjisboyfie · 5 months

Text

toji fluff hcs.

requested, and i had sm fun writing this bc I DO AGREE ANON the toji x male reader tag is just full of smut atp there is never any fluff T.T i hope u enjoy lovely

toji x male reader <3 takes place before canon (mamaguro kinda dont exist sawry)

— the thing is, toji has a very, very thick wall around his heart and he rarely lets anyone in, ever. that's why! in this hc im gonna say that you two met via his job and just worked really well as partners. and then overtime, the two of you just got closer until finally toji makes a move on you.

the two of you were sitting at a restaurant, going over the recent job that you just finished. toji hummed at what you were saying, taking a swig of his beer as he remained eye contact with you.

recently, he's been seeing you in a different light. recently as in the past couple of months. he's just been taking note of everything you've done and how attractive you are when doing them. after he noticed he was thinking these things, he just accepted the fact he had a major crush on you and shrugged it off.

a part of him expected it to happen - how could he not have some sort of romantic feelings for you when you were so witty, strong, and intelligent. he was bound to catch some feelings for you, whether he wanted to or not.

he accepted it really quickly and decided he wanted to make it obvious sooner or later. the fact was he wouldn't know how you felt unless he initiated something.

so as he sat across from you, elbows resting on the table, until he got an idea.

"got somethin'," he said, motioning to his cheek. before you could wipe it off though, he dragged his thumb over your skin and collected the sauce of the food that you were eating onto his digit. he sucked it clean off, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. "wait, missed a spot, c'mere,"

he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, chaste kiss before smirking at your stunned expression, "got it,"

after that, you obviously questioned him because what the fuck. toji just shrugs, explains how he's liked you for some time and decided to make it known now. he goes on to explain that since you're both adults, you could compromise a mature way of going about your relationship on the off-chance you didn't like him back (he's shitting bricks when he talks about that part though, you just can't tell-)

you return his feelings after getting over the initial shock.

and that was toji's unromantic way of confessing to you, but still, it got the job done and ever since that day the two of you couldn't be happier.

— contrary to popular belief, i think that toji is a big romantic. when he finds the right person, he wants it to be known that he's interested in them, loyal, and a devoted lover. in his own ways, he gives a lot of romantic attention to you and the time you spend together. even if he's dead broke, he'll find a way to make ends meet in making your relationship feel as special as it is to him.

"c'mon, baby," he goads you into grabbing his hand, rolling his eyes when you shoot him a look. "let's go, the reservation isn't gonna be waiting for anyone else but us,"

"yeah, how did you do this though? toji, this place is so expensive, are you sur-"

he kisses you to shut you up, hand caressing your cheek as he speaks to you in a low voice, "i got it all handled, don't worry about it," that translates to you = i pulled a couple of strings by threatening the boss of this place to let us eat here for free. but you couldn't will yourself to care because it was the thought that counts! plus, he went through all that effort just to secure you two a romantic evening together.

so you ruffled his messy dark locks and allowed him to guide you inside the lavish restaurant. he smirked in content, kissing the top of your head before securing you two your promised table.

—

on your anniversary, he showers you in so much love and affection it's insane. he doesn't have the money to bring about the most lavish celebration, unfortunately, but he does make up for it by being extra doting.

"love you so much," is the first thing he mumbles into your skin. it takes you a second to register why he was being so lovey-dovey, but when you remember it was because the calendar marks two years of officially being together, your heart warms.

toji has a good memory, remembers all the important dates and what you like and don't like. he's got it all stores in his memory under the "everything about [name]" folder there, that has other information such as your food preferences, what you like to wear, what you enjoy watching on TV, etc.

his hands run up and down your sides, pinching your nipple to get you awake and laughing when you smack him with the pillow. "sorry, just wanted to get you up so we don't waste our entire day in bed!"

"what if i wanted to just be in bed with you?" you asked, rubbing your chest with an annoyed look on your face.

"sorry, baby boy, but no can do," toji says, peppering kisses on your face, "got the whole day planned out in my head," you ignore his loving kisses that start trailing to you neck.

"mhm and what's that?"

"it's a surprise, don't ruin it," he warns you in an oddly serious tone, "want to make today special, let me make it special, boy,"

you laugh at his seemingly annoyed tone, but let him have his moment - not pressing for anymore answers.

— not the biggest on public affection, but doesn't hide the fact that he's yours and you're his. always has his arms around your shoulders or waist, sometimes pecks your cheek. but that's as far as it goes with pda. verbally, on the other hand, he's always mentioning you. even in brief interactions with other people, he's slipping mentions of you into conversation with such ease and smoothness.

"will that be all today?" the barista asks, eyeing toji up and down. and he's not a stupid guy, he notices it easily.

so to assert himself, he clears his throat and looks over the menu, "nah, actually, let me get a cinnamon bun for my boyfriend," he says, pulling out his wallet and taking out some cash, "he's been wanting somethin' sweet for a while, so i guess i can treat him to this," he comments, looking back at you with a smile. you were already seated at the table as he ordered, offering him a wave before looking back out the window.

the barista is obviously dejected when he mentions you, but he's nothing but prideful and satisfied. serves her right.

—

"didn't [name] already tell you we won't be taking the job? we got our entire week already planned out, we can't fit in another mission," toji said over the phone. it was one of the rare instances he was turning down the opportunity to make money, but he didn't feel bad or guilty about it.

you and him had a whole week planned together, it's been in the calendar for months now and he wasn't going to ruin the rare one-on-one time he could have with you by being greedy with some extra cash.

in the past, he might've. but you changed him, in a good way. and he wasn't going to make it seem like he valued cash over you because he definitely didn't.

"i wasn't aware that [name] spoke for the both of you? y'know, if you take him out of the equation, toji, you actually make more money-"

toji almost growled, "he fucking said no, that means i said no, too. don't be an asshole right now or i might really get pissed. from now on, whatever my man says think about it as if he's speaking on behalf of both of us. same goes for me. so listen closely when i say this, cause i'm sure he'd say the same thing to you right now: fuck off!"

he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the table, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"everything alright, babe? you were yelling?" you shout from your shared bedroom and toji visibly relaxes after hearing your voice.

"nah, everythin's alright, doll, don't worry about it," he calls back, kicking his feet up onto the table and spreading his arms against the couch cushions, "hurry your ass down here, though, or else i'm starting without you!"

— huge believer in cuddling, loves, loves just holding you in his arms. it's the one time he really feels as if his stress just washes away. he's a big guy, so he usually just ends up completely blanketing over your own body. but usually, he settles for just being the big spoon and staying satisfied like that. sometimes, though, he will want to just have you completely laid out on top of him as you act as some sort of weighted blanket. that's if he's really, really stressed and just needs to be reminded that you're there for him.

his hands rest on your hips as he's laid flat on his back, holding you in place on top of him. you have been struggling to get comfortable for the past five minutes and he had to bite his tongue from saying a snarky comment to you.

"fuck, toji, it's like i'm sleeping on a rock," you complain, pushing yourself up from his torso and glaring at him, "can't i just sleep next to you like a normal person,"

he keeps his eyes shut, not bothering to wake himself from his semi-sleepy state, "[name], just stay still for a second and you'll eventually get sleepy,"

"easy for you to say when you're on the comfort of the mattress,"

"don't you say my boobs make for good pillows or something," he groans, finally cracking one eye open to weakly glare at you, "just use them as your pillows and count fucking sheep,"

"but your-"

"shh, you big baby, i just need this for tonight," he promptly shuts you up but pushing his finger on your lips. in any other instance, that would've just pissed you off even more, but seeing how genuinely tired and needy he was, you let it slide. just this once.

you settled back on his chest, running your fingers up and down his sides to give some sort of comfort.

"love you, toji," you breathe out, barely loud enough for him to hear.

but he does, and he squeezes your sides to show that he did, kissing the top of your head and whispering it back before he's lulled to his own slumber.

— always thinking about you. he's only concerned with you. every single other person in the world can fuck themselves, he just cares about you and wants to make sure you're safe.

"where's [name]?" were the first words he asked their employer, looking around the office space in search of your h/c hair.

"he just went to get himself some water-" as toji is informed of that, he's standing up out of the seat he was in and is going to leave in search of you. "he should be back in a couple short moments,"

"hm, don't care, i'm going to look for him and then we can start this meeting," toji said, not giving another glance to the guy that was going to give the both of you a job to finish.

oddly enough, the meeting was held in a corporate looking building and toji was concerned on your whereabouts. what if these assholes had some fucked up trick up their sleeve and were going to use you as leverage to get to him? toji wouldn't put it past them, he's messed with more than a couple powerful folks back in his day.

it could bite him in the ass someday and he really didn't want to risk that chance affecting you.

"toji? what are you doing here?" you ask, coming towards him with two paper cups of water in your hands.

"looking for you, babe," he easily responds, looking at the water in interest, "where'd that come from?"

"they had pitchers in their breakroom and i decided-"

"could have poision in them," toji said off handedly, looking at the contents and his face screwing up in distaste, "hold off on drinking it for now, these guys can be unpredictable sometimes,"

taking his warnings seriously, you don't sip from the cup at all and walk back with him to the meeting room. his hand rests on your waist protectively as the two of you walk through the halls, glaring at anyone who stares for a bit too long.

like a personal guard dog, toji is always standing at attention and assuming the worst of people. but don't worry, he doesn't mind. if it means it keeps you safe and in his arms, he'll be as paranoid as one can get and not have an issue with that at all.

— at the end of the day, toji doesn't listen to anyone, but you. it's funny how obediant you can get this absolute unit of man to act. he tries not to make it so obvious, but when he's hanging off of every word you say and acting at your beck and call, it's already obvious to everyone around you where his priorities are at.

"toji, don't touch that - the sign says not to touch,"

"if i wanna touch it, i will," toji says with a shrug and smirk. but then he notices the warning look you give him as his fingers inch closer to the display. he clicks his tongue in annoyance, dropping his hand to his side as he muttering under his breath, "didn't wanna even touch it, anyway, tch,"

or another time when he's giving the waiter an earful for not remembering something in your order. he thinks he's doing you a favor by speaking up for you, but in reality, you just didn't want to make the waiter's life harder than it already is.

"he asked specifically for you guys to put it on the side since he doesn't lik-"

"baby, it's fine, just drop it," you sigh, rubbing your forehead with a tired look in your eyes. he's about to protest, a scowl on his face as he thinks about the waiter incompentence. but with one look from you and a calm, "toji, enough," reaching his ears, he's standing down and shutting up.

the waiter shoots you a thankful look before running off to the kitchen with your plate of food, going off to correct his mistakes.

"couldn't hurt you to speak more nicely to people," you say, grabbing his hand across the table and shooting him a look. he scoffs, taking your hand in his and calming himself down using your touch.

toji only ever listens to one person in his life and it's you. you're just really lucky he loves you so much because if it was any other person, he'd be doing their head in. he sighs, thinking of the affects you've had on him and his own steel, hard heart.

he can't help but be thankful. he kisses the back of your hand silently, squeezing it in his hold once more before shooting you a small, barely noticeable smile.

"if that fuck ass even thinks about looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his one more time, though, i can't promise i won't nail him right in the face," and there's your familiar, stubborn toji back again, easily threatening a poor guy that's just doing his job.

#jjk male reader #jujutsu kaisen male reader #toji male reader #toji x male reader #toji x reader #toji reader #toji fushiguro x male reader #toji fushiguro x reader #GUARD DOG #SCARY DOG PRIVILEGES #TOJI FUSHIGURO EVERYONE #A SECRET SOFTIE FOR HIS BOYFIE #toji fushiguro male reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro headcanons #toji headcanons

699 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 5 months

Text

Title: Undetered.

Continuation of Unrequited.

Pairing: Arlecchino x Reader x Furina (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Obnoxious Sapphic Pining, Lesbian Melodrama, and Spoilers for the Fontaine Story Quest. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

Truly, you were fortunate to have such a persistent suitor.

And, truly, Arlecchino was lucky to be so desperately in love with someone who so often left their windows unlocked.

Lady Furina – or, rather, Miss Furina now – might not have had the limitless means of an archon, but her manor was still sizable enough to leave convenient gaps between patrolling guards. Vaulting the stone gate was child’s play, climbing to the second floor a task that would’ve been easily passed off to one of her less capable subordinates, remaining unseen as she worked a dagger between the glass pane and its wooden frame until the mechanism gave and she could slip into your bedroom an art she’d perfected over decades of careful practice. She never expected to use her talents for a matter so personal, but still, expertise couldn’t be denied.

Although Furina’s burdens weren’t quite as heavy as an opera star as they’d been as an archon, you still took care of her affairs dutifully – ever the loyal companion despite your favored idol having been proved false. Even now, in the dead of night, you were chained to your desk, your fingertips stained with ink and your quill abused to the point of dullness. It took a moment for you to take notice of the draft, to straighten your back and glance blearily in her direction, but whatever exhaustion stole your attention from her seemed to disappear the moment you met her eyes. You scrambled to rise, to call for your guards, but she was already closing the distance between you, already trapping you against the edge of your desk, an arm caging you in on either side. Too breathless to spare a proper greeting, she took your hand in her own and held it to her chest. If she had a heartbeat, you might’ve been able to hear it racing. “My love, my light,” You opened your mouth, undoubtedly preparing one of the dismissive platitudes you so often offered her, but just this once, she refused herself the pleasure that was listening to your voice. Time was precious, tonight, and she couldn’t afford to be so indulgent. “I’m leaving for Snezhnaya at dawn, and I will only dare to ask this once—” She paused, forced herself to breath. “Come with me.”

Your eyes remained wide and horrified. “Lord Arlecchino.” And then, after a short lapse, “You’re in my bedroom.”

“If you must serve a god,” she went on, unfazed by your shock. “Then serve me. I know you think you’ve found a purpose in Furina, but there is nothing in the world she can give you that I can’t. There’s nothing she does for you that I’m not willing to.” She raised your hand to her mouth, her lips grazing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to love me. All I ask is to be able to pretend you might, one day.”

It was your turn to manage a ragged inhale, now, to draw yourself out of her hold with a quick shake of your head, a dry swallow. “You can’t—” You started towards the door, then thought better of it, taking to pacing as you glared daggers towards the carpeting. “You cannot be here. You have to leave, and you have to make sure no one sees you.”

“I’m not afraid of a few guards,” she cut in. “If I had to fight a thousand men for your hand, I’d draw my sword without a second thought.”

“You don’t understand. She thinks I don’t know, but—” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “She writes these— these fictions, and if she finds that you’ve broken into her estate in the middle of the night wearing—” You gestured vaguely to her, or more specifically, to the pitch-black bodysuit she usually wore to her less scrupulous encounters. “—that, I’ll have to travel far past Snezhnaya before I ever hear the end of it.”

With an airy chuckle, she found her way back to your side. As gently as she could, she took you by the arm, and when you failed to protest, drew you into a delicate embrace. “What are you afraid of, dear?”

You slackened against her chest. “I… I honestly don’t know how to explain it,” you admitted. “It’s just, ever since you first came to Fontaine, she’s been inf—”

This time, you were interrupted by the door to your bedroom slamming open, your mistress appearing above the threshold – already posed with one hand on her waist and the other curled around the handle of a mahogany cane, her eyes shut and her smile wide. “Teyvat’s brightest star has returned!” She declared herself with a turn on her heel – a dramatic flourish worthy of a retired archon. “You would not believe how well rehearsal went, there’s already a—”

Her eyes flickered op, and whatever she meant to tell you died on her tongue as her gaze fell onto Arlecchino. Immediately, you wrenched yourself out of Arlecchino’s arms, rushing towards Furina. “My lady, it’s not—"

“Save your excuses.” Her voice was low, her tone steely. Furina posed no threat to you, much less to her, but Arlecchino still had to temper the urge to step in front of you – if only out of some long buried, sickeningly knightly instinct. “I can see what’s going on.”

A beat passed in silence, then another. Ultimately, Arlecchino took it upon herself to break it. “…you can?”

“For exactly what it is.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, gasping sharply. “My greatest foe, here to use my closest confidant against me. I will not allow it! Whatever you plan to do with them – let me take their place. No matter what you plan to take – my mind, my soul, my body, I insist that you take it from me!”

Her rambling went on, but Arlecchino diverted her attention, sparing you a glance out of the corner of her eye. “She’s got a bit of a crush,” you whispered, smiling apologetically. “This is just how she behaves when she’s nervous.”

Arlecchino’s looked back to Furina. Upon closer examination, her cheeks were flushed, her movements erratic. As she described the torture she would go through for your sake in truly graphic and well-imagined detail, Arlecchino cleared her throat. “With as little respect as possible,” she cut in. “You’re not the one I’m here for, Furina.” She took up your hand, intertwining her fingers with your own and falling to one knee. You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest, content to let the gesture stand – if only for the sake of your mistress. “It’s your confidant who has my heart, despite how callous the hands I’ve entrusted it to may be.”

“But, my lady, my loyalty is with you.” For the first time, Arlecchino watched your expression wither. Your worry – not for your mistress’ safety, but purely for her happiness – would’ve been touching, if her selfishness hadn’t been the cause of your concern. “And… my love, as well. If you’d care to accept it.”

It was a pitiful confession, pale in comparison to even the meekest of hers, but it seemed to be enough. Furina took a moment to examine you, to evaluate Arlecchino where she kneeled. Slowly, she straightened herself, squaring her shoulders. “If that’s the case,” she began, finally, taking on an air that could be easily mistaken for dignified. “Then as the former sovereign of your nation and the mistress of this estate…”

She raised a hand, a near radiant grin painting itself across her lips as she encompassed you both in one sweeping gesture.

“I demand a threeway!”

#woman loving wednesday #on thursday #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #furina x reader #furina x you #furina x arlecchino #arlefuri #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x furina

618 notes · View notes