#like whatever comes out will be whatever comes out
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Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.
Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)
A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.
You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now.
And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be.
We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…
What?
No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.
You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”
Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird.
Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer.
You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street.
Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.
You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.
Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-
“Oh? Still open?”
“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing.
And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?
“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”
“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”
You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”
Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”
Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”
“Congratulations, Mr…”
“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.”
You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”
“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”
What?
You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”
“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”
There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”
Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”
Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”
“...you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”
“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”
And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation.
“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”
That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?”
And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?”
You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”
---
And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from.
“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”
“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.
You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”
Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now.
“Alright. Plan B, then.”
Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”
Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”
At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”
“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”
“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”
It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you?
“Fine.”
The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”
And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”
He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.
Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner.
And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head.
You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.”
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”
“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly.
“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”
Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”
With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house.
“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins.
Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”
You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app.
“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”
That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.
“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”
It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo.
“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”
Your home, for the next month. At least.
And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in.
“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner.
“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in.
“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”
It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual.
“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed.
Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”
And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.
“Ichiji.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”
“Of course, young master.”
---
Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside.
Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.
Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…
“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you.
Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”
“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”
He…didn’t sound like he was joking.
Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”
At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”
“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”
He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”
“For the divorce.”
And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.
You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner.
“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”
And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit.
You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you.
But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.
The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”
Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”
“Only for you.”
Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.
Stammering out, “Corny.”
“Only for-”
“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders.
Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now.
Gathered here - for you.
Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them.
“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”
My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”
It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.
He wins.
“Congratulations. Let us begin now.”
You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.
It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.
Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second.
Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”
You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”
“A waitress, she said?”
“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”
“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”
The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”
“Mother, be quiet or-”
“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”
Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane.
Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”
Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”
“My wife and I are leav-”
“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.”
Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.
His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”
Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily.
“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up.
“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru.
He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold.
“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”
What the fuck happened?
He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to.
Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.
“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list.
“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”
You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”
That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.
---
“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain.
The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands.
You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”
He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.
“It’ll be alright.” you nod.
And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.
---
Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight.
The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting.
But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it.
“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.
Something else also happened - something different.
Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-
“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”
Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”
The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.”
“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~”
You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”
And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.”
Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger.
Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong.
Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours.
“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”
Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table.
Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before.
“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”
Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.
Were you going insane?
Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”
“Thinking of me?”
Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today.
“Satoru?”
His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic.
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.
Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”
A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”
Run away. Run away. Run away-
There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.”
“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.”
You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”
“So go with me instead.”
“What if-”
“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave.
Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.
It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-
And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips.
“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.
“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”
He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach.
“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it.
“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”
He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were.
But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.”
And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”
“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.
“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.”
Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”
You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.
“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”
Rip!
The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically.
Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”
“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”
“You’re awful.”
“And yet you married me.”
With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”
You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub.
Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you.
“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard. “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”
You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now.
And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?
Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-
“Sh-shit. Toru-”
“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.”
He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-
“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please.
“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”
“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”
“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”
One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him.
“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-” You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.
And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want.
Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue.
“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”
And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear.
“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time.
“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself.
And he sees right through you.
“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now.
Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.
“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all.
And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.
“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”
You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back.
Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.”
“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard.
You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.
And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything.
“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”
You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”
“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”
“All yours, Toru.”
And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.
With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot.
“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”
Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be.
You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much.
“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy.
“Close?”
“Mhm…”
“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”
And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.
Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.
And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper.
You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now.
And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him.
Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”
“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”
Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”
“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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Masterlist
Cw: mentions of alcohol, blowjob, Simon likes red lipstick.
Simon, and his civilian girlfriend that he was so afraid to introduce to his teammates.
He knows the men are great men, would (and he has) give his life to protect them. But he also knows that Johnny and Gaz with one too many drinks turn into a constant dick joke, enough to drive anyone away.
Still, tired of hearing the constant yapping from both sides to meet; surprisingly, it was Price the one who asked the most about “When are you going to introduce us to your missus, son?”, he finally agrees.
He tells you again and again that it's just a couple of drinks at a pub near base, nothing fancy, nothing especial.
You still knock the breath out of his lungs when you stand in the living room of your flat, twirling around for him. “What you think?” You say, his eyes instantly drawn to your red lips.
He looks you up and down, walking closer with a look you know very well, and he rests his hands on your hips, leaning closer. “Do we need to go? We can have fun here, dove.”
You look at him, surprised and offended. “Simon! Of course we do! It's literally your boss!” You remind him.
He groans, bending to hide his face on your neck, breathing your perfume in before standing back straight, holding your hand in his. “A’ight…”
Simon is overflown with pride when he walks with you hanging from his arm to the table where his team is. The pub is filled with military men, you can feel every single pair of eyes on you, but the massive man that calls you “lovie” and asks for back scratches is next to you, so not even discomfort can get to you.
The three men sitting down do a really good try to look at you up and down without getting caught, key word, try.
Simon introduces you to Johnny, Price and Gaz, guiding you to sit next to the last and him on the other side, shielding you from everyone else.
Simon leans back, heart beaming with pride when he sees how easy it is for you to steal everyone's attention, the three men looking at you with adoration.
It is easy to fall into a comfortable conversation, drinks passing by just as easy. His arm behind your back and his hand resting on your hip, his thumb caressing your skin over the thin material of the dress.
His eyes still locked into your pretty red lips, constantly moving as you talk to them, you pretty smile appearing again and again on your pretty face.
It's not too late that Price says to call it a night, talking about having to work the next day. He would never admit that he couldn't take it anymore with the way you would constantly look at Simon with hunger in your eyes.
And Price is nothing if not observant, because the moment Simon and you step inside your flat, you are pushing Simon into his armchair. Kneeling before him as you undo his belt.
“What are you doing, darling?” He asks, looking at you amused but still surprised with you taking the initiative.
“Cartwheels, Simon.” You say, finally undoing his pants to free his shaft. “What does it look like I'm doing?”
He chuckles, the laugh turning into a groan when you give a kitty lick to his tip, blood rushing south.
He can't peel his eyes away from your lips, even when he struggles to keep his eyes open. “I bet I can reach up to here.” You say, placing your fingertip at the base of his growing boner.
He pets your head, smiling to himself. “Whatever you say, dove.” He says, aware of the jaw ache his girthy dick is. But the look of determination on your face is enough to keep him from saying anything.
And it is not much longer, that you are bobbing your head up and down, easily taking him down your throat. He has his head thrown back, unable to hold it up anymore as he mumbles nonsense, his hand still resting on your head. He has his eyes closed hardly, trying to keep himself from coming so fast at the feel of your throat constricting his length. A futile attempt when you run your nails over his wide hips, making him buck them against your mouth, finally spilling deep into your mouth.
You finally pull back, licking your lips, satisfied with your attack. And with a smile on your face, you point to his softening dick, the imprint of your lipstick down at the base. “I told you I could.”
And when he looks down, his shaft reddish with the stain of your lipstick, but the clear mark down at the base has his groaning, the sight alone almost enough to get him going again.
Simon was afraid to introduce you to his teammates, but if the dates end up like today… he can wait to meet them again.
@thatoneslvt
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okay so a very long post incoming.
the shock still hasn’t worn off. i asked misha about bi buck after days. weeks. of talking about it as a hypothetical and i got the BEST answer ever and caused extreme disarray in the destiel fandom.
people in my discord group can attest how often i was like ‘ooh i hope someone asks misha in a panel this weekend.’ ‘maybe we can all go in on a cameo and ask him that way instead?’ i was pretty annoying about it, i just. i NEEDED TO ASK.
so i got to the con thinking if only i could ask a question. then i went to misha’s solo panel but didn’t line up for some reason and then by the end, i regretted it because there was no last question and even misha commented on it. i thought damn now i only have tomorrow’s panel to do it. but i wrote down my question anyways and i thought i’m already here, i have to at least TRY.
i complained to my mother about how i really wanted to ask a question, but no way could i tell her i wanted to ask about buck and tommy kissing and destiel. she doesn’t even know destiel is a thing and she would not approve if she did. but i went to the panel by myself, luckily she didn’t have a ticket to the con anyways so she just waited in the hotel lobby after checking out (which was her choice. she listened to misha’s first panel on saturday from outside the room and didn’t want to sit through one again)
anyways so i go to the tomer/karen panel that was before his panel, and i’m on the right side right at the back, the complete opposite side where the people who ask questions are. then towards the end of that panel i move to the left side. i’m still at the back but i’m at the end of the row so i can easily move when i need to. then when the panel ends i go to ask a person who works at the con about asking a question. she says there are still people who didn’t get to ask their questions yesterday so they get priority, and the rest aren’t lining up yet. now i’m pretty confused because there was a distinct lack of questions at the end yesterday but whatever.
so i go to sit back down but there’s a line of people right where the question line was on saturday, so i join it thinking just in case she was wrong. well more people start to line up and she says ‘nobody is lining up to ask yet!!’ and i’m like okay so it’s fine, we really aren’t going yet.
then i sit back down and a few minutes later i see her directing like 4 or 5 people onto seats after she raises a paper saying ‘reserved for questions’ or something like that. so i think okay it’s my chance. i go up and she directs me into these seats that are closer to the front and is filled with like TEN people who are sitting in that ‘reserved for questions’ section. i think oh my god. there are so many people here. i text the discord saying ‘IM IN THE LINE.’
then the panel starts and i’m like okay well i’m towards the end and i’m close to the front now, i’ll take some pics. and as people ask their questions and sit in their original seats, we have to keep moving along the row of seats so we keep getting closer to the middle near the mic.
but then there’s half an hour and one of the people working for the con comes and says to the girl after me in the queue and the people behind her that they weren’t gonna get to ask. she tells the people at the front of the queue ‘i think just the first few of you will get to ask’ - at this point i’m like the 5th/6th in line (after the person at the mic and the person waiting behind them) so i’m not very optimistic at all. and then.
so i tell my discord ‘yeah i don’t think i’m gonna get to ask’ because i’m still pretty far from the end by the mic.
and then the panel goes on and there ends up being two people, one at the mic, one standing behind them. and one of the people working for the con tells me, THE NEXT PERSON IN LINE, ‘sorry, you won’t get to ask.’ and i am DEVASTATED. i tell the discord ‘yeah i’m definitely not gonna ask.’
i’m thinking I SERIOUSLY just wasted this whole panel shuffling seats and worrying for nothing (i had also just left my bag with all my stuff on a random seat!) so i sit there annoyed and sad for a minute until i see sean (the con organiser) by the stage and he tells her that i can go up last i guess. so she comes up to me and tells me i will be up next and to stand behind the people at the mic and i’m SHAKING.
i get in the line and i text on the discord that i’m the last question.
then i stand there listening to the questions before me just thinking oh my god misha is right there and i’m gonna be the last question and oh my god it’s gonna be such a good question. because i saw how much chaos misha caused with his questions on saturday and in this panel i don’t think anyone asked about destiel. so i thought!!! this is gonna be good!!!
and then i get to the mic and they’re all on stage and sean is next to it and says it’s the last question so it’s gotta be a good one. and then alex and rob and misha are all like oohhh it’s the last question but then MISHA. FUCKING. comes off the stage and comes up to me holding the mic and is two feet from me and looks me in the eyes and says ‘don’t fuck it up.’ but i’m like it’s on my phone! i got it written down! and well you’ve all seen the pictures of him looking right into my eyes but i’ll show you again.
so the first two four of these next photos we were making eye contact. i remember when he came up to me i was looking at all the lines on his face thinking man he’s so pretty and he’s right in front of me what the fuck.
but in these last two i wasn’t looking at him. he was just looking at me. which is just insane to see in retrospect.
after this i think he went back to the stage and i was like okay this last question is for misha and he cheered i guess. i think i blacked out tbh.
now when he got back to the stage i think this was when rob started singing the last question song because i remember thinking like damn i need to ask this question before i cry or something. misha was just standing there and looking at me - from the stage this time and i was. freaking out.
after that singing was done i said ‘this question is kinda about destiel, just to warn you in advance.’ and then apparently rob said ‘perfect last question’ and i started asking my question.
i started with saying ‘so there’s this show called 911’ and SO many people started cheering. i was immediately so much more comfortable because i could tell people would know where this was going. especially when after i carried on with: ‘it moved networks from fox to abc in it’s 7th season. and there’s a main character named buck who in the 4th episode kissed another man’ and then people started cheering AGAIN.
and anyways you all know the rest by now. i said ‘the actor who played him reported that they wanted to do something like it earlier in the show, but when they moved networks they were allowed to make it happen. if supernatural moved networks earlier on, or if it was made later on, do you think something like that could have happened with dean and cas?’
and we ALL know misha’s reply by now. ‘if the cw wasn’t so homophobic, dean and cas would have been balls deep for sure.’ i vividly remember being like OH MY GOD (in my head) and then i put my head in my hands a little and apparently. so did misha. which is to be expected i mean that was wild.
after that he said he was gonna actually give a semi earnest answer and said some things that are shown in these tweets. i remember bits and pieces because i was trying to hold eye contact with misha but i occasionally looked down and played with the mic a little but didn’t want to seem too uninterested. i loved his answer. the thread in this tweet has the general gist of it.
and if you wanna see the question i had written down and open on my phone, which i edited RIGHT before the panel as you can see from the timestamp (don't judge me for the second question it was just a backup) and a picture of misha looking at my phone. here it is.
#cr8#misha collins#destiel#spn#long post#sorry for not writing his whole answer out myself i wish i recorded it somehow because i forgot all the little detaiks#i’ll remember someday i guess#and if you read this whole thing. i salute you
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tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington
🩵💥🩵
“Someday, you're gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.
But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.
Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.
But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.
Enter Steve.
Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.
Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.
So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”
Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”
Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.
He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.
Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.
Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?
Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.
Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”
Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”
The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.
Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”
Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”
His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”
Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.
What could it hurt? Steve thinks.
Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.
Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.
Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.
And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.
To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.
And Steve follows.
Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.
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hi coming in a lil early for Smutty Tuesday but hear me out:
Azriel with a size kink and a corruption kink - a reader who is shy, quiet, easily flustered.
They’re at some party or gathering, reader gets overwhelmed and decides to hide away in a room to read her /definitely not/ smutty romance book. Azriel finds her, finds out what she’s *reading* (he definitely teased her about and her blush gave it away) and whatever resolve or restraint he has just snaps at the idea of ruining her 🫠🫠🫠
*insert rubbing hands together evilly here*
Life Imitates Art (Azriel x Reader)
WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Size Kink, Corruption Kink, Oral through Panties, Oral
The room you are hiding in offers you peace and quiet, something sorely lacking in the ballroom just down the hall. You were always easily overwhelmed, preferring to stick to the shadows and be the wallflower, so you are certain no was missing you as your fingers turn the page.
You feel your lips curl up in a shy smile as your eyes scan over the page, the vulgarity in the text making your heart race. Nesta certainly has an interesting collection of books...you would have to steal from the pile more often.
Everything around you disappeared as you delved further and further into the story, rubbing your thighs together at the unholy images racking your brain with each word. You were so engrossed that you didn't hear the door open nor the footsteps walking towards you.
A large, scarred hand fell between the pages, and it made you jump. Your face went as red as a tomato as you saw the infamous Shadowsinger above you.
"I knew there was someone missing from the party..." He murmurs, hazel eyes dark as you try to snap your book shut. His hand prevents it though, fingers curling against the bottom and pulling it easily out of your grasp.
"Wait, that's-" You try to reach for it, but he clicks his tongue, giving you a warning glance before turning to read.
"His fingers curled inside me, touching me in places that I had dreamed of him caressing," Azriel's voice was pure sex as he smirked, enjoying the way you shrank into the chair from embarrassment. "I could only see his eyes as he watched me between my legs, his hot breath fanning across my c-"
"Stop!" You plead, covering your ears. "Please, I get it, just don't read further."
"What's wrong, Y/N? You were just reading this yourself, were you not?" He teased, snapping the book shut with a loud thud. "Why are you so embarrassed now?"
You groan and cover your face, shaking your head to try and see if this is simply a dream. However, when you peek through your fingers, Azriel was still there, watching you.
"Did you like it?"
"Az, I didn't mean for you to find me reading-" You protest until he leans forward even more, both of his hands bracing on the arm of the large lounge chair and caging you in.
"That's not what I asked you, little mouse. Answer me." His tone is authoritative, shivers running down your spine as you crane your head back to look him in the eyes.
"I...yes, yes, I liked it." Your voice is barely above a whisper as you see his jaw clench, the fabric of the chair crunching from how hard his grip had gotten.
"Was that so hard?" He asked, gaze falling briefly to your lips before back up to your eyes. "I didn't know a girl like you read those kinds of books. I wonder what else I don't know about you..."
One of his hands came up to rest against the column of your throat, his eyes lighting up with enjoyment at the way you swallowed at the contact. Your breath hitched when he knelt in front of you, his hands falling to your thighs and spreading them with ease.
"Have you ever been tasted before?" Azriel murmurs, slowly bunching your skirts up your leg to reveal more and more skin.
You felt like you were going to faint as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening, confused as to how this had escalated so quickly but not at all upset.
"Y/N." He calls, pinching your thigh and making you squeak. "Answer me when I ask you a question. Have you?"
"N-No, I've never...I've never done anything like this..." You mumble.
Azriel stops at the top of your thigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment as his nostrils flare. You try to sit up, worried you've upset him, but gasp when he all but shoves you back down into the chair.
It takes him a moment to speak again, his gaze fully concentrated between your legs where your panties were just starting to become visible. You swear you saw him shaking, his wings extending as he finally stops when he reveals yourself fully.
"Little mouse..." He moans, wrapping both of his arms under your thighs and yanking you forward until your ass was hanging off the end of the seat. "I can't wait to ruin you."
He immediately licks a long stripe over your lace underwear, his spit soaking through as the sensation sends your body buzzing. You whimper as he eats you out through the thin material, making sure to soak your entire underwear as you wiggle and roll your hips.
When he's had enough teasing, he moves his hand to each side of your hip and rips through them like paper, wasting no time in getting back to feasting on your pussy. Your fingers grasp his short hair, your eyes squeezing shut as your pleasure only increases.
"Oh, Az, please!" You gasp, back arching when he hums his praises of your vocalizations. "Fuck!"
"That's it, pretty girl," He moans, sucking and nibbling on your clit as his ring finger circles around your entrance. "Scream for me."
As he gives you another particularly hard suck that makes you see stars, he also pushes his finger into you. You moan loudly, walls clamping down on the intrusion as he curses.
"Stars, you are so fucking tight," Azriel hisses, thrusting in and out. "I can't wait to stretch you out, princess. To see this tiny cunt swallow me whole."
"I want it," You whine, looking down at him desperately. "I want you so bad, please I can't take much more."
There was the familiar feeling of your orgasm building, but it felt so much more intense than you were used to. You didn't have control over your body or your words as pleas and whines flow out like water.
"You can and you will." He snarls, pulling away as he adds a second finger and starts scissoring you open. "You'll take everything I give you. Do you know why?"
You shake your head, your clothes feeling too tight on your skin as he curls his fingers and hits that spot that makes you scream.
"Because this is mine." Azriel curls his fingers again, bringing you that much closer to the edge. "Your cries, your moans, your pleasure, it is mine and mine only. Only I can give you this, bring you to this point, and you'll take it and thank me."
"Yes, only you!" You repeat, barely coherent, as you start to clench around his fingers. He adds a third one, coming back to hover his mouth over your clit.
"Do you want to cum, mouse? Want to make a mess all over this chair, my fingers, my face?" He taunts you, watching as your cheeks heat up again from his words. "I want to hear you say it before you cum."
"Az, please!" You cry, hips bucking as he starts to flick your bud with the tip of his tongue. However, your words fall on deaf ears as he waits for you to give in, to speak those filthy thoughts aloud.
Shame will come to swallow you whole at a later time, your pleasure fogging your mind until all you can think of is Azriel's tongue, fingers, cock...
"I want to cum! I want to cum on your fingers, on your cock, I don't care!" Your voice breaks as he keeps you on edge, his pupils blown wide as he watches you fall from your pedestal of innocence and into his awaiting arms. "Please, please, please. I need it, I need you-I just-"
You can't finish your sentence as he mumbles against your sopping cunt and starts curling his fingers again, licking your clit just right to send you falling into an abyss of carnal rapture.
Your entire body seizes up, your mouth falling open to silently scream. He continues to fuck you through it, prolonging your pleasure as tears form in the corner of your eyes. You had touched yourself before, had made yourself cum, but it never felt this powerful.
Azriel watches you, his breathing ragged as you look at him with hazy eyes. It takes you a moment to realize he had picked you up and was carrying you out of the room and up the stairs, your head resting against his chest.
"Where are you taking me?" You ask hoarsely.
"To my room. I told you you'd take all of it, Y/N, and that doesn't just mean an orgasm."
#azriel#azriel smut#azriel x reader#azriel x reader smut#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#acofas#acotar smut#acotar reader#acotar reader smut#azriel acotar smut#azriel acotar#smutty tuesday
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whatever you say, bro - chs
pairing: vernon x reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: kissing, Shrek slander
request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."
A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?
Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen.
Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro
You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.
Bro.
It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.
Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny.
Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro.
You close your eyes with a sigh.
"Thumb war."
"What?"
You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.
"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie."
Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on."
As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.
You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too.
“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned.
You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.
"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.
"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little.
"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you."
The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.
Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."
Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.
But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.”
For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier.
As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”
Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote.
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re annoying.”
You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best.
“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line.
It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.
"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much.
"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –
Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.
When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”
Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”
“You kissed me.”
Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”
Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible.
“I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”
@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin
#vernon x reader#vernon fluff#seventeen imagine#seventeen imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x you#vernon x you#chsfic#my writing#bookyeom700#seventeen fluff#chs x reader
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attention (TWICE Nayeon)
word count: 6.1K
(she's been on my radar since the killing voice medley, and well, yeah, enjoy!)
-- -- --
You’re seething, forcing the amber liquid down, watching the people mingle. You should introduce yourself to some because networking at events like this always gives you the chance to meet the next up and coming.
But not tonight.
You don’t even want to be here. You weren’t on the original guest list, but with last minute changes and someone’s wife suddenly going into labor, your boss forced you to attend.
Maybe the proper term is chaperone.
All you wanted to do tonight was spend some time with this woman you’ve been casually seeing. Nothing serious, nothing committal, just dinner and drinks that had the potential of ending together in a bed. You had been dragging it out, and you think it’s warranted. She makes it obvious she’s interested.
But with how this evening was looking, you’ll be spending the night with someone else.
That someone is across the room, draped over some man you’re more than likely going to have to do damage control. She’s an idol after all, and rumors will spread like a wildfire about her being linked to someone who’s nowhere near her caliber.
She catches you staring, sending a sly smirk as she leans into whatever-his-face is saying. A little too close for the company’s taste and a shit ton too much for your sake.
“Dear fuck,” You mumble, shaking your head before standing.
You don’t know what compels you to walk through the crowd, nodding politely at those that wave, but there you are, less than a meter away from where she’s seated.
“Nayeon,” You say coolly. The man quickly separates himself, going as far away from the woman in question. “Time to go. You have an early day tomorrow.”
Nayeon tilts her head, a questioning glint in her eye because she, out of all of the members, knows her schedule. She has nothing for tomorrow, except maybe rest and recovery because this is her fault you’re here.
Well, maybe you should backtrack. It’s technically your fault because if you hadn’t mentioned to Sana and Momo the plans you originally had, you wouldn’t be at some event against your will. It was an innocent question on how you were going to spend the weekend, the only mistake was that you said too much that they went running to their unnie.
“Okay,” Nayeon says slowly, standing before bidding farewell to the people at the table. You wait for her, obviously, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. “Shall we?” She asks as she turns to face you.
You nod, stepping side before bowing politely. You’ll have to send a message to the media team to stop any photos releasing of Nayeon and the man, but that could wait. There were more pressing matters that needed your attention.
It isn’t until you’re inside your car that she says something that ticks you off, “So no date with Suji-unnie tonight?”
You shake your head, composing yourself because it’s a question she knows the answer to. “Nope, duty calls. Had to be here.”
“How unfortunate,” Nayeon says casually as if she had no part in how your night turned out, slouching in the passenger seat as you shift the car into drive. “Yours or mine? ” She asks, looking out the window. Adding, “Momo’s in Japan.”
“Mine,” You answer simply, turning onto the street.
-- --
You should’ve seen it coming, but you let it happen.
The company and management would have you barred from working with anyone in the industry if they ever found out. You reasoned that was why by the time things unfolded, it was out of your control.
How it started was subtle, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to her mostly. She flirted with you, commenting on your outfits about how it looked good on you and you, being you, would return the sentiment. It wasn’t anything explicit, just a polite acknowledgement of her looking great, something she heard daily from the girls and other people on the team.
She lingered to walk with you whether it was crowded or not, it didn’t matter. She was right by your side, and the times where fans were around, she’d be especially close that you had no other choice to wrap your arm around her, shielding her from people who desperately wanted her attention. You missed the snickers from the girls, rolling their eyes because they knew what she was up to, while you were just doing your job.
Then she texted you on free days, asking if you wanted to do something. Anything from getting food at hole-in-the-wall restaurants she learned about from Chaeyoung to intimate concerts of artists in the industry. You tried to decline, advising her to go with one of the female managers so it wouldn’t look suspicious to the public eye, but she was adamant about going with you. Some of the girls would join from time to time, but the majority of the time, it was just you two.
Again, you thought nothing of it. You were the closest to her, so no one batted an eye when she put in the group chat when something was planned.
That was just how your relationship was with her for five years since the group debuted.
Until one night.
You were working late, going over the travel plans for the girls’ encore tour, tucked away in your office. A short four-city stint in the United States that would be a bit of a hustle for them, but you knew they could do it.
There were a soft two knocks, scaring you because you thought everyone had already left. You remembered the way you said come in, raspy and tired, when the door opened slightly, the half of Nayeon’s face peeking through the crevice.
You smiled immediately, sitting straight, nodding as she stepped inside. You took note of her outfit. Something comfortable since they had dance rehearsals for the better part of the day, dark sweats and a heather grey cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her skin, peeking from underneath.
You watched Nayeon grow into a beautiful woman. Sexy too, but you slapped yourself every single time you thought of her like that. There had to be some professional line drawn somewhere. Although it seemed that metaphorical line had been blurred, crossed, over the past few months.
She was more affectionate, playing with your fingers in the car, gently touching your arm wherever you walked. She pressed into your side more, even when there were no people around. She hugged you a bit longer than the others, not like you were counting the seconds.
You stood to meet her on the couch, asking if she was alright since she was vocal earlier in the day she wanted to go home to sleep. She explained that she had finished practicing with the dance instructor. You admired how hard she worked, which for what it was worth, you thought she did well during rehearsals.
“And I saw your office light on as I was leaving, thought I’d say goodbye,” Nayeon rested her head on your outstretched arm. It wasn’t out of the norm, something she did quite frequently in front of everyone.
“You should rest,” You urged, softly squeezing her shoulder as she snuggled into you. “You did great today.”
Nayeon looked up at you, gaze briefly shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes, “Really?”
You hadn’t realized it before, but as she stared at you, you could see how much she needed the affirmation, the reassurance, the praise, from you.
You cleared your throat, looking away because it suddenly felt hot in your office. With Nayeon this close, her perfume faint, it had you dizzy. You mumbled a shy yeah.
You knew the moment her hand touched your thigh, it was over. Everything you worked for, investing time and resources to make sure the girls you managed were successful, would be tossed down the drain because the undeniable tension that had been building over the past however long at this point broke.
The thing was, you didn’t know about it until that moment.
You weren’t sure who kissed who first, and it didn’t matter. All you knew was she was on top, your arms pulling her closer as your lips met in a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s moans.
Something clicked inside of you, like this was always supposed to happen. Every message, every call, every playful push, every stolen glance, every single thing led to this.
“Nayeon,” You tore yourself apart, hyper aware of the small whine leaving her mouth as you tried to get some grip on the situation. “What’re we doing? We can’t do this.”
Her eyes narrowed, glaring, and you knew that whatever resolve you had would be taken from you by her whether you liked it or not. She was never one to be challenged, always exceeding whatever expectation was placed on her.
“And why not?” Her voice was steady, but her body was not. She dropped to her knees in between your legs. All the thoughts you pushed deep down inside you came rushing to the surface, dismantling the walls you put up for her to break it so easily. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Her hands were on the waistband of your slacks, trailing along, stopping when she reached the button.
You didn’t have the words, no sentence to form as she slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the zipper down. You nearly choked once she placed her hand over your cock, palming with the softest pressure.
“Your body seems to think so,” She teased, slipping her hand underneath the fabric, wrapping around your cock.
That very thin thread of control you snapped, leaning forward to pull back onto your lap. “That’s a lot to assume,” You quipped, hands gripping her waist firmly.
“Really?” She rolled her hips over you, catching the smirk on her face as your eyes closed. “I think that you’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, which I—”
Impulsively, you brought your lips to hers, a searing kiss that she met with the same enthusiasm. You murmured a shut up before nipping her bottom lip, sucking lightly that her body shuddered against you.
You didn’t remember much else from that night.
That was a lie because that was the night she confessed it all. It didn’t help that she somehow slipped all her clothes off and she sunk your cock inside one smooth motion, testing your control once again because you could’ve exploded the moment you felt her warmth wrapped around you.
You remembered it vividly, clearly, as you watched her move on top of you. It was slow, intentional with every drop of her body, like she was showing you what you had been missing. It was hot, tight, and you couldn’t stop the whimper out of your mouth when she started whispering things—nasty, filthy things that you would have never guessed were in her vocabulary.
Nayeon bit your ear lobe, murmuring how good you felt, how she got so wet whenever she saw you. The soft moan she let out. The dazed, lust-filled expression with each roll of her hips. You couldn’t stop the noises you made, the groans, the grunts, the fuck every time her pussy tightened.
There was a brief sense of clarity when your stomach tightened, signaling you were close. You couldn’t exactly cum inside her because one, you stupidly (blindly) forgot to put a condom on, and two, you didn’t keep track of her health records (that wasn’t one of your responsibilities among everything else), so getting an idol pregnant wasn’t exactly on your list.
She knew you were close the second your hips thrusted up, stealing a breathy moan. You were content lifting her off you to cum anywhere else that wasn’t inside her.
However, Nayeon was not.
She made it perfectly clear when she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you against her as she quickened her pace. You tried, maybe not that much, to get her off you before you met your impending end, but it was futile when she kissed your cheek, affectionately, lovingly, hot breath against your skin that she wanted you to claim her in a way no one else ever had.
Air left your lungs as you came, releasing a lot inside of her, causing her own orgasm that felt like yours went on forever. She muffled her scream, biting into your neck as her body trembled.
You wanted to believe it was a one-time thing, a mishap, a lapse in judgment because it was still your fucking job on the line.
It was not a one-time thing. You couldn’t even count it as a two-time thing, or three, or four. It just kept happening. You couldn’t exactly avoid her, you literally worked for her.
No one would think you favored her because they all knew you did, but they understood why. No one could stop Nayeon from being near you because she would throw a fit. Any crisis she had, you were the main point of contact because she only listened to you.
Even if you had some kind of control over her, she had the most control over you.
Then after some time of figuring out how you and Nayeon could keep whatever this under wraps—nothing was ‘figured out’ as you wouldn’t really be talking if you were alone together—a mutual colleague introduced you to Bae Suji.
--
You went on one date with Suji, or Suzy, as she sometimes preferred. How any of the girls found out was beyond you, but if you had to wager, it would’ve been Jeongyeon or Sana (Nayeon later did say it was the latter because her friend saw you).
It didn’t matter who found out because managers are allowed to have lives outside of their work, but this particular part of your life wouldn’t be allowed by the woman you spent a good chunk of time with, on- and off-the-clock.
To say Nayeon was upset would be an understatement. Sure, she was upset, but she was livid. You didn’t see her that night, but she was at your door the next morning. She did what she always did, easily seducing you before demanding an explanation while you were deep inside her.
It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it’s not like either of you cared. It was toxic at best, but it was debauchery at its absolute worst, using sex as a loaded gun to get whatever you wanted from each other.
“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You grunted as you thrusted inside her, pausing as her pussy tightened.
“Yet here you fucking are, still balls deep inside of me,” Nayeon said lowly, tugging you so you towered over her. “You aren’t fucking her so why did you even go out with her?”
You didn’t bother responding, instead you wrapped a firm hand around her neck, squeezing enough to shut her up because at that point, she was pissing you off.
You would admit that that morning was the first time you let her get the best of you. You typically weren’t aggressive with her. You might’ve been rough less than a handful of times, but never like that.
What you couldn’t predict was how she’d react. She could have done anything. Hit you. Slap you. Push you off.
She didn’t.
It spurred her on more than anything. By the way her pussy tightened. By the way it felt wetter. By the way she tried to make a sound, but couldn’t because of the hold around her.
Your hand relaxed, listening to her violently gasp as the air entered her body. You broke for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort, uneasiness, because at the end of the day—you wouldn’t admit this to her—you loved her. You were in love with her, stupidly falling for her whether you wanted to or not. You believed she felt the same, but those kinds of things weren’t a topic of discussion.
“Baby,” You whispered, still buried inside of her, but you weren’t moving. “I’m sor—”
Nayeon shook her head, sitting up as you hissed once the cool air hit your cock. She gave you a quick peck before turning onto her stomach, arching her back. Pushing herself up on her hands, she shook her hips side to side, head slightly turned, “Fuck me, daddy.”
A new kink was unlocked that night among a myriad of emotions you weren’t prepared for. One thing you were prepared for was to fuck her like you owned her.
Maybe you did, but she owned you too.
-- --
You open your front door, stepping aside for Nayeon to walk through. Tossing the keys on the side table, the door shuts as you take off your shoes. She’s right next to you, arms crossed behind her back, leaning against the wall. She’s waiting for the reaction you give whenever she pisses you off. She does what she does to rile you up, if that isn’t obvious.
You sigh, shaking your head, standing in front of Nayeon. Her eyes look up, but your gentle hand cups her chin, tilting her head back. When you meet her gaze, there’s something off with her.
You can read her like a book, very familiar with her moods. Though, this time, you see—and feel—the walls up, something unfamiliar to you.
“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, searching her face for anything to give her away. Her expression remains neutral, shrugging indifferently. “Something’s wrong.”
Nayeon pulls away, averting her gaze, “Nothing’s wrong.” Pause. “So are we going to fuck or what? Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“Not with that attitude,” You say sternly, reaching for her arms behind her back. You bring them around, struggling a bit. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“There is no fucking problem. If you want to talk about thoughts and feelings, I’m going to pass,” She breaks away, and you let her. “I’ll call Jihyo or Jeongyeon to pick me up.” She turns to walk away, but you reach out quickly, hand wrapping onto her forearm to pull her back.
Nayeon lets out a small oomph against your chest, glaring at you, unbothered by her attitude (you’ve dealt with worse), “Tell me what the fuck is wrong right now.”
“Or what?” Nayeon huffs, hands on your chest in a feeble attempt to get away from you.
The movement brings your bodies closer, and accidentally, maybe purposely, she grounds her pelvis against you. It’s with the lightest pressure, but it’s enough for your cock to stir, awakening from her heated stare. You notice the way her breath hitches, body shivering as you pull her closer.
“Brat,” You murmur, dropping your head to capture her lips with your teeth. She moans softly when you start sucking. Her hands move to interlace behind your neck. You didn’t want to use sex to get it out of her, but she’s being defiant. “Do you get off on making me mad?”
“Not intentionally, of course.” You feel her smile form, the upward curve of her lips as you slide your tongue in. She sighs dreamily into the kiss, dropping her weight to lean against the wall. You fall into her, practically pinning her. “Is someone going to put me in my place?”
It’s a rhetorical question because there has only been one person to put her in her place.
You.
This evening could have played out in two ways. The first, being the doting lover you’re familiar with, praising her softly like a secret only between you and her, taking your time to draw out every moan and sigh against your lips. The second, the one you’re leaning towards, being the indifferent, apathetic lover, uncaring of if she cums, fucking her until she begs for you, pussy deliciously tight to force you to breed her, claim her, because she’s yours.
“Why not that tool you were all over at the party?” The question catches her off guard, body tensing at the thought that you caught her. She wanted you to catch her though, she has always wanted to be wanted by you. “You knew I was watching across the room,” Pulling away as you tower over her.
“It wasn’t like that,” Nayeon rushes out, the excuse you’ve heard multiple times before. The false panic in her eyes means she knew exactly what she was doing to get a reaction out of you. “We were just talking.”
“I don’t believe that,” You click your tongue, the image of her with someone else like that sparks a possessive desire. “That wasn’t very good of you, baby.” Void of any affection associated with the pet name. Under the dim light of your hallway, you see her eyes dilate and her breathing picks up. She wants you and fuck do you want her too. “Room. Now.”
Nayeon nods obediently. You reward her with a soft, chaste kiss. She tries her best to keep your lips together, but you tap her hip twice and she pulls away. “Daddy.” She whines, pouting in hopes it’ll get her more than you’re giving. You thought she’d last longer before using her nickname for you.
“Don’t be a brat,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her because if she wants to act out even more, you’d just have to punish her. “Go to the room now.” Nayeon’s eyes widen at your tone, nodding once before walking down the hallway.
You tilt your head side-to-side, stretching the muscles before making a quick stop in the kitchen. You know you’ll both be exhausted whenever you finish, so you might as well at least have water nearby. You’ll find the energy to make her food in the morning, or there’s always takeaway. With two water bottles in hand, you kick your room door open to Nayeon perched on the edge of your bed, topless, only leaving her red lace bottoms, dress tossed haphazardly on the chair.
“For later, okay?” Momentarily breaking out of character because you still care for her, and her well-being will always be your top priority. She sends you a grateful smile before you place the bottles on the dresser. When you meet her on the bed, she moves to swing her leg over yours, but you shake your head. “Not yet, baby. You weren’t very good back there.”
“But, but,” Nayeon’s voice trembles, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it!”
“Then why did you act out? Do I not give you what you want?” You gently push Nayeon off to her original position.
“You do!” She says desperately, nodding her head.
“Then why? Why him?” You taunt, deciding how far you want to go with her tonight. Something’s still wrong, and you need to know what. You want the reason, the confession, because she doesn’t keep secrets from you. You see the wheels turning, unsure if whatever she has to say would matter. It does matter to you. “So what is it?”
“Because I wanted your attention,” Nayeon confesses before she jumps on you, landing perfectly on your already hard cock. She moans at the contact, grinding slightly before your hands find themselves on her hips, guiding her movement. “I wanted you to remind me who I belong to.”
“And who’s that?” You say lazily, tongue trailing against her lower lip before dipping inside, swirling that she grounds harder.
“You,” Voice dropping low, seductively adding, “Daddy.”
You have to still make her pay her retribution. She’s almost there, telling you the real reason, and you’ll get it out of her. You easily lift her body off yours, smirking at the whine and huff when you pull away as you lay her on your stomach against your lap. “I still have to punish you, baby.” You rest your hand on her back, ghosting over her skin until you reach her low back.
“But daddy,” Nayeon huffs, raising her hips in a feeble attempt to get your hand where she wants. “It didn’t mean anything,” She repeats, squirming on your lap.
Your hand goes lower, hovering over her buttcheek, “It meant something to me,” You say pensively. Curious, prodding, “Is that why you wanted me to fill in instead of Seoyeon-unnie? You didn’t want me to go on my date.”
You don’t hear a response. You swiftly bring your hand down to her bottom, a resounding smack echoes through the room. “Well?”
Silence again, which would result in another slap to the other cheek. She muffled a moan into the bedsheets, refusing to budge.
Bingo.
Her pride is her biggest downfall, ego constantly needing to be stroked. She loves the attention and adoration from fans, thriving off the praise, knowing that it’s all for her. She would rather suffer through the pain than have to admit she was jealous.
The center of attention, the one in the limelight, spotlight shining on her and only her. She craves that from you, to be the center of your world, but ever since Suji came into the picture, she’s scared that there might be someone else, crashing like a meteor on unstable ground she’s never had.
You continue with the slaps, easing the sting with light rubs. You know she’s soaked, the small dark circle forming on her underwear. You’re not faring any better, cock tenting against the fabric.
After the seventh hit, Nayeon moans, body shaking wantonly in frustration. “Fuck fuck, please, please.”
“Tell me the truth.” Coercion isn’t the best method, manipulative by any definition, but you had no other choice.
“Fine, fine.” You relent, hand halting mid-air. “I didn’t want you to go. You’re supposed to be mine,” She cries, breath uneven as she tries to compose herself.
Your hand drops. Her body flinches when she feels it against her skin, but continues to wait, anticipating your next move. Your chest squeezes at the confession because she’s never been this vulnerable, open, willing to express her feelings for you.
You give in, to her, to this, the urge to suddenly show her who owns you becomes too great. You pull her up, laying her on the bed as you fall in between her legs.
“Baby,” You murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips against her ear, “You’re being so good. I am yours,” Her body shivers, hips rolling up into nothing as she seeks some kind of friction. “I’m yours,” You repeat like a mantra, a reminder of what you’ve always said. “You deserve a reward, okay?”
Nayeon shakes her head, eyes shooting open, wild with want and desire. “I can’t wait, daddy.” She reaches for your shirt, ripping the buttons, before stopping at your belt. “Inside me, please. I need to feel you.”
You do nothing to stop her, hands swiftly moving to unbuckle your belt and slipping your cock out of your briefs. You groan when she wraps around your length, stroking lightly. She aims the tip at her opening, against the lace, uncontrollably moaning and panting.
“Go ahead,” You goad, eyes fixated on your cock rubbing over her. The wetness seeps on you, mouth watering at the sight. You watch as she moves her underwear to the side, lining up your cock perfectly, the warmth and wetness surrounding you has you seeing stars.
“I’m so wet, daddy,” Nayeon moans loudly, scooting closer to take more of you in. “All for you—fuck.”
You couldn’t help yourself. She felt too good, too wet, and the tightness suffocates you the second you snap your hips forward, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The sudden stretch has her head snapping back, screaming into the air.
“You’re such a slut, always ready for my cock,” You choke out, hands settling on her hips before drawing backwards. Her body squirms, chasing after the sensation of being filled. “So needy tonight, baby.”
“Please, please,” Nayeon begs, doing everything she can to get all of you back inside her. She wants you, wants you so no one else can have you, desperate for the feeling you give her. She thrusts her hips down, sucking you in unexpectedly, that you nearly collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, nails digging into your skin when your length rubs along her walls. “Fuck me. You own me.”
“Mine?” You’re able to catch a breath, holding on to the control you’re trying to keep.
“Yours.”
It snaps, breaking the moment she says the word, possessing you to pull back before sliding back in. You lose yourself inside her, each moan and breathy sigh, as you set a steady pace. It’s a beautiful sensation for Nayeon’s pussy hugging your cock perfectly, warm, wet, tight—just for you.
Her nails trail down, scratching your back enough that you’ll see the damage later. The pain turns you on, snapping your hips, driving your cock through. You nearly falter when your eyes meet hers. It’s akin to love, a word that has been dangerously sitting on the tip of your tongue these past few months.
“I—fuck,” You stutter out. You can’t tell her how you feel. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t.
“I love you.”
You swear you misheard her. The three words forming the sentence that has you over the moon. She says it again, softly, affectionately, because she means it.
“You love me?” You cease your movements, cock bottoming out inside of her. The snugness of her pussy warms your cock as you wait. She doesn’t hesitate, saying it again and again before pulling your lips to hers.
“I love you,” Nayeon mumbles, tongue running along your bottom lip.
“Fuck,” You pull away, hips drawing back before flipping her body over. She raises her hips, the beautiful arch in her back. You tear the lacy garment off, making a silent promise you’ll buy her another later. You’ll buy her whatever she wants. “I love you,” You whisper before sinking in, missing the way her eyes roll back.
You couldn’t control what happened next as the words triggered her orgasm. Her pussy pulls you in, suffocating you so you wouldn’t leave—not like you had anywhere to go. You’d lose yourself inside her ten times out of ten.
“Fuck daddy, I’m cumming,” Nayeon screams, panting as her body shudders, pussy tightening and relaxing rhythmically as you groan. You feel the wetness coat your upper thighs, guttural moaning against her hair. “Come inside me, please. I’m yours, yours, oh shit—”
Your stomach tightens, snapping at the way her ass cheeks ripple against your pelvis, moving uncontrollably as she coaxes your orgasm. Your hands grip her muscles, hips erratically thrusting into her as your release floods her, painting every crevice inside her.
Nayeon leans her head back, enough for you to kiss her forehead. Her hands find yours, interlacing them sweetly as you both try to catch your breath.
You’re still hard, and you’re feeling particularly giving. She can handle whatever you throw at you, so you gently remove one of your hands from hers, trailing slowly to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitches, “What’re you doing?”
“Another,” You command as you rub through her folds, finding her clit.
“Wait—wait shit,” The contact catches her by surprise, her body folding forward as you continue your onslaught.
“Good girl,” You murmur, watching as her hips move in slow figure eights with your cock still inside. Her pussy constricts, finding every angle to hit her favorite spot. And when she does, she mewls and pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you as she moves faster along your length. Your fingers aren’t idle, applying heavy pressure that has her going crazy, unsure with what to do with the pleasure flowing through her body. You mouth cum and flicking like a switch, she gushes all over you, forcing you to leave her warmth.
“Fuck daddy,” Nayeon screams, voice hoarse as you watch her body convulse, back arching and flexing as she squirts more fluid than you’d ever seen. “I need you, please. Something, anything—oh shit!” Your fingers enter her swiftly, massaging her inner muscles as it just gets wetter, drenching your skin and bedsheets.
“Tell me who owns this pussy,” You say lowly, eyes fixated on the way her butt muscles ripple with every movement of your fingers.
“You,” She repeats your name over and over, pussy sucking you as she tightens deliciously around them. “God, fuck, you, sir, only you.”
You replace your fingers with your cock, aiming at her opening before sinking in once again. Her fingers ball into fists, wrinkling the bed sheets as you nearly go feral on her body. She could take it. She wants you like this, crazy, addicted, in love that no one else could fuck her. She needs to feel how much you want her. She only needs you.
“So easy,” You swing a hand back, slapping each cheek with precision. “All you need is my cock, right?”
“Yes, yes, only yours daddy,” Nayeon nods, easily agreeing to whatever you say. You could call her every name in the book, and she’d comply. She’s your little fucktoy that gets your cock stuffed inside her whenever you want.
You lose it once Nayeon lets out a high-pitched squeal. The orgasm crashes through your body, hips stuttering forcefully into hers as you fill her again, unabashedly rolling your hips to hear her breath staccato.
Every nerve on your body buzzes, stimulated by Nayeon’s walls pulsing to milk you for all that you have. It hits overstimulation, sucking the breath from you as you regretfully pull out. She whines at the loss of contact, but you lean forward, sweetly kissing her buttcheek, nipping at the skin that she squirms.
“Ticklish?” You tease, voice light and relaxed. The exhaustion slowly sets in your bones.
“You know I am,” Nayeon huffs, hips dropping, limbs spread limply.
You’re still a sick human, and you want to see the result of your activities. You nudge Nayeon’s leg, easily responsive as they spread a little. You bite your tongue at the sight of your essence dribbling out of her swollen lips. It’s hot, filthy to see you all over her. You wish you had a phone nearby to snapshot this into memory, but your mind drifts off to recreating it at a later date.
You yawn, collapsing next to her that she scoots to snuggle into your side. You fight to keep your eyes open because you still have to clean up. Nayeon mumbles something into your skin. You don’t quite catch what she says, softly asking her to repeat it, and you freeze.
“I love you.”
It’s a finicky thing, this thing between you and Nayeon. Somewhere along the way, you fell for her. Maybe you knew the moment you met her, or maybe you knew that you would at some point in time. Or maybe you knew the night she walked into your office because by then, it had built up between you that that was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm what you’ve known.
The hormones flow between you, and you can’t help but think that’s the only reason why. You’re an idiot too, “Are you just saying that?” Nayeon’s hand presses into your chest. You open your eyes to her peering over you, hair an unruly mess, “What?”
Nose scrunching, Nayeon rolls her eyes, “You seriously believe I’d throw that around so easily?”
You don’t, but this was Nayeon. You may have been sleeping with her for a while, but you’ve heard the girls talk about their flings. You could almost guarantee that she’s only been sleeping with you, but they know how to hide things.
“Stupid,” Nayeon shakes her head when you ask again. “Did you just say it?”
You did. You do. It’s not just the hormones causing you to act like such a love struck idiot. You weigh the situation, knowing that whatever answer you give will change your relationship. It won’t be an illicit affair between an idol and her manager. It’ll be hard because you’d still have to keep it a secret, unless you changed companies, something you’d be willing to do.
“No,” You send an easy smile, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”
Nayeon’s face lights up, beaming with all her teeth showing, eyes crinkling in the corners. She kisses you, softly, tenderly, a contrast to how you were no less than five minutes ago.
“I love you,” Nayeon says quietly, an unspoken vow passed between you. She understands what this means, being together for real, that there will be hardships, but she’ll do them with you.
You sigh contentedly against her lips, whispering those same three words, full of intent and promise.
“No more dates with Suji-unnie,” Nayeon sing-songs, confident after pecking you on the lips, smug at accomplishing her mission of making you hers.
-- -- --
(pardon any mistakes or typos, lol)
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oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333
ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k
“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.”
Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?”
“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.”
Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been.
(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.)
“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.
“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.
“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?”
He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?”
“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.”
“Too right.”
When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.”
Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I!”
You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.”
You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.”
The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.”
“I do!”
“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right?
“I wanna kiss you so bad.”
Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him.
You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real.
“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away.
He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands.
You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired.
You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm.
“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug.
“Forward,” you tease.
You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?”
“I’m wearing jeans.”
“Did you sit down on the subway?”
“No, I drove here.”
“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.”
“It was quickest.”
You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured.
“You okay?” he asks you.
“Just missed you.”
“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.”
“Too much standing up.”
“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.”
You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose.
“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.”
Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly.
He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.”
You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?”
Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.”
You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.”
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman and Female Reader
Finale
Word Count ~ 3.3k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ fluff and smut, pregnancy
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant
The true name of your doppelgänger is crooned into your ear.
A sound that is strangely soothing, syllables slipping like water in a brook, a gentle rush of water.
You attempt to replicate the sound and of course it doesn’t come out right. He’d warned you of this. The human tongue is incapable of replicating the foreign language.
“Why do you have such an easy time learning ours and we can’t learn yours?”
He’s gone back to the human version of his being, the tired eyes of the milkman studying your frustrated features, his fingers stroking and smoothing away the lines creasing your brow and the corners of your mouth.
“The newness of it, maybe. Yours is a relatively young race.”
You prop your head up on your hand, dragging fingernails over your lover’s chest. “How old are you?”
“Me, or my species?”
“Both.”
He turns onto his back, nestling down in the pillows. “In Earth years….we have existed for tens of thousands of years. I’m a tenth of that.”
“You are not over a thousand years old,” you murmur in disbelief.
His eyes meet yours and he smiles softly. “You’re right, I’m not. I’m teasing. Sorry, love. More like one hundredth of that.”
“A century.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Wow.” It’s hard to reconcile the idea. Despite whatever face he wears, you’ve always thought of him as near enough your own age. “An older man, huh?”
“Something like that.” He lifts the hand you have resting on his bare chest and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Is that okay?”
“It’s a little late to ask, but yes, it’s definitely okay.” You bend to kiss his mouth. “I really wanted to learn your name.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He worries his bottom lip, considering. “What if I tried to describe what it meant instead? And we discovered a language equivalent that was similar.”
“Alright,” you agree.
The milkman’s copy pauses, considering. “In Greek mythology, there was a name for something otherworldly that was borrowed from Latin, then later used to describe a kind of afterlife. Fields of paradise. An eternal resting place of bliss for the worthy. Elysium. But that notion of otherworldly is the best way to describe it. The original term is Elysian.”
“Elysian,” you try it out. It sounds nothing like what the alien had said earlier, of course, but the idea is there. “I like it. It’s pretty sounding.”
“Well, that’s it, then.”
“Elysian,” you repeat, bending to kiss his mouth again. He smiles against your lips. “You like hearing it, huh?”
“It’s pleasant, I’ll admit.”
A sudden thought occurs to you. “How do you know about Greek mythology?” You have never seen anything that indicated the milkman read classical literature.
The doppel clears his throat, looking a little nervous. “There was a professor.”
“Oh.” Of course Francis wasn’t the first human he’d ever cloned. “Did you…take him over, too?”
“No. Just replicated. Retired. Library at home.” He squirms a little, looking uncomfortable.
“Did you…” You don’t really want to give voice to the query. You’re not even sure precisely which it is. Kill? Consume?
“Sweetheart, please don’t ask me that.”
You swallow thickly. You forget, sometimes. Caught up as you are in how he is now. Denying what he used to be.
“How long ago was that?”
“I don’t remember.”
“But you remember what you read in a book.”
The doppel sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “It was awhile ago.”
“Not who you were when you…Francis…”
“No.”
“How many? How many people have you…”
He sits up, and you straighten beside him. “I don’t want to talk about this. It’s not who I am anymore. What I am. You know that.”
“I know. I just…” Your voice trails off again.
“Listen to me, sweet girl. All that matters now to me is you. Keeping you safe. Making you happy. I love you.” He plants a kiss on your bare shoulder.
“I love you, too.”
“We should go to sleep. Work in the morning. And that damned box to deal with,” he mutters, leaning to switch the bedside lamp off.
You feel him lying down again and you snuggle next to him, your head pillowed against his chest, his arm curled around you. You’re wide awake, now. Questions spiral in your mind. “Elysian?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever miss your planet?”
“Maybe a little. I did. Not so much now.” His arm around you tightens.
“What was it like?”
“Very green. More of a tropical climate, I suppose you would say.”
“And you left because…”
“Food shortage.”
A brisk answer. You’re not going to ask what precisely the doppels consumed in their native location. “Have you been to any other planets?”
“One. Small. We didn’t stay long.”
Another ominous answer. Not enough to eat, perhaps? Did anyone ever properly repel the invaders? Or were they an unstoppable force, like a plague of locusts sweeping the land, consuming everything in their path, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake?
“What’s it like traveling in space?”
“So many questions tonight.” His lips press against you hair. “It’s indescribable, really. Beautiful. Vast. Daunting. Someday, I would like to show you.”
There’s a lull in the conversation as you both mull over that prospect. You had never thought much about space travel. Had no real knowledge of astronomy. But the idea of exploring the stars with this creature by your side made you curious. What would it be like, to be so far away from the only home you've ever known? You feel the gentle rise and fall as the doppelgänger’s lungs expand and deflate and hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. You try to match his rhythm. A game you haven’t played since childhood. Facing off with a friend in the schoolyard. While cuddling with a parent at home. That is what he feels like to you. Home. How fiercely you want to protect him. You squeeze his shoulder.
“What happens when you run out of members of your squadron to send here for sacrifice?” You ask quietly. A concern you’ve harbored for a long time finally given voice.
“Let’s not worry about that tonight, okay? I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“I don’t want you to be harmed, either.”
“I know, my love. Now try to sleep.”
You shut your eyes, thinking there’s no way you’ll be falling asleep anytime soon, only to find yourself proven wrong as you soon descend into slumber.
***
You awaken to darkness.
It’s early, dawn still a ways off. You reach out drowsily to find the doppelgänger sitting upright beside you in bed.
“Elysian?”
“There’s a doppel,” he says softly. “But something about it is off. I don’t…”
You’re instantly alert again, jerking upright, throwing the sheet off of you. “Where is it? Outside? On this floor?”
Had you let one in by mistake? Or was this some new intrusion?
“I’m not sure,” he replies distractedly. The weight on the mattress shifts as he rises, his face barely visible when he draws back the curtain to peer at the street below. “Not outside,” he declares. “Closer than that.”
Your pulse quickens. Inside, then.
“Wait there,” he advises. “I’ll go have a look around.”
You immediately disobey, sliding out of bed. You can’t just sit still waiting for whatever was going to happen. You pad barefoot out of the room, finding yourself in more darkness. Your fingers trail on the wall as you move forward, your feet leaving carpet and finding linoleum.
“Elysian?” You hiss, squinting, trying to detect him in the shadows.
“I told you to stay in the other room,” his voice growls from somewhere to your right. The living room. “It was gone, but now I’m sensing it again”
You bump into the couch, finally deciding it’s more of a hazard trying to find your way in the dark, invader be damned, reaching blindly until you crash into the lamp, nearly knocking it over before your fingers fumble for the switch.
Francis’ doppel paces the small apartment, even unlocking and cracking open the front door before shaking his head and shutting it again. His gaze meets yours.
“So where is it?”
He steps towards you slowly. His eyes widen. “Is it possible…”
“What?”
“Sweetheart.” He stands before you, laying a palm on your abdomen.
“I’m…”
“Carrying my baby. Our baby.” His other hand cups your cheek tenderly. “We did it, my love.”
He gathers you against him, his face burrowed into your neck. Wet. He’s crying. You’re crying, too. Weeping. Relief. Joy. A new kind of fear. Maternal instinct kicking in already.
You had to protect your unborn hybrid child.
***
There’s no sleep to be found for either of you now.
You’re cuddled on the couch, wrapped in Francis’ bathrobe, the doppelgänger’s arm curled around you protectively, waiting for the new day to begin.
“I’m afraid to make an appointment with the doctor. I should go, but…what if they find out?”
“Best not then, love. Just to be safe. You should talk to your mother. Whatever you need to be doing, what to expect…”
You nod. “We need to get married as soon as possible.”
“You’re already my wife in every way that matters, but yes, we will. Very soon.” He pauses. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I know your reasoning behind it, but I think you should stop working for the DDD. Especially since we’re moving into your house together. There’s no reason for either of us to be anywhere near here anymore. Let’s go, sweetheart. Leave this behind. Start over. Begin our life together properly.”
“Let me give a notice. Finish this week, and the next. It’s just how we do things. Allow them time to find a replacement. We still have the box to deal with,” you remind him.
“Then you’ll leave the DDD?”
“Yes, I’ll leave.”
He sighs heavily. “Thank you.”
“What time do you think it is?”
“Maybe three? I left my watch in the other room. Can’t see the clock from here,” he murmurs against your cheek. “We still have time.”
“I was thinking we should go downstairs. Tamper with the device right now before the sun even rises.” You lean back to look at your lover. “They’ll keep working on it. There’s no guarantee they won’t succeed again. Or find another means.”
“I know. But that won’t be your fight, love. That’s for someone else to worry about.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Yes,” he admits. “More than I ever have been. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. Our baby is worth it.”
***
The director of the DDD requests an exit interview with you.
Really not a request, more of a requirement. You’re not entirely surprised. You didn’t think you’d escape quite that easily.
It’s been a little over a week since you and Elysian sabotaged the anti doppelgänger frequency box. Lying about the results on the survey after the allotted trial period. A temporary solution to a larger problem, but at least your doppel was safe for now.
And your baby. Your half human, half doppelgänger child nestled in your belly.
You try not to rest your hand on it as you sit before the stern faced man’s desk. Of course there is nothing visible yet, your stomach still flat, but you’d already grown accustomed to touching there. You force your hands to meet and fold together in your lap, your head bowed slightly, the very picture of meekness and subservience that seemed so favorable for women of the time.
“You’ve submitted your two weeks notice.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the reason for that is?”
“I’m getting married. Ready to settle down, start a family.”
He grunts. You can’t tell if it’s approving or not. “People don’t often leave the DDD. Not voluntarily,” he adds.
“Yes, sir. I’m aware. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I feel it’s the right one.”
“Not going to be easy to replace you. Not if you gave two months notice, let alone two weeks,” he admits grudgingly. “The DDD thanks you for your service. I’m certain you’ll still uphold the tenets of the cause, even if you’re no longer formally employed by us.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The middle aged man begins to slide a document across the desk towards you after signing it and stamping it with the official seal, only to halt at the last moment, staring hard at you. Your eyes lift to meet his.
“I understand there’s a new vacancy in that residence now. Another rare occurrence.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“The milkman that was missing that day of your…indiscretion. Francis Moss, wasn’t it?”
“Mosses,” you correct, then wince internally.
“Yes. Him.”
You remain silent, your hand still stretched out, reaching for the paper. Your heart thuds in your chest. Please, just let me go. Please, please…
You suddenly have the document clutched tightly in your hand. He was letting you go after all. Freedom. You force yourself to walk from the room at a dignified pace, the paper carried in front of you like a shield. When you exit the office building your tense, rigid posture relaxes and you heave a sigh of relief. Another challenge overcome on the road to forever with your doppel.
***
You love coming home to your fiancé.
Seeing his delivery truck in the driveway. Soon you’ll be the one welcoming him inside every afternoon. But for now, he’s the first one to your inherited farmhouse, waiting for you on the porch he’d raced up to kiss you all those months ago, gifting you a taste of new rain and the smell of fresh petrichor.
“How did it go?” His tone is casual but you know better, seeing his white knuckled grip on the railing.
“I’m free.” You wave the letter in the air and he snatches it from your hand, hurriedly scanning the words.
“You really are,” he murmurs, looking bewildered and relieved.
“That doesn’t mean they won’t still be watching. But for now, for now…”
He smiles at you, one arm wrapping around your waist. “Should we celebrate?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully, his lips brushing your ear. “Come inside with me, love.”
***
There are little details of the house that bear traces of Francis Mosses, now. The crocheted blanket rests over your couch. The portable record player has a permanent home in your bedroom. The dresser hosts a collection of your doppel’s things: a belt, cologne, some spare change, a wooden handled hairbrush. There’s a shirt that needs mending hung on the post at the end of the bed.
“I’ll fix this later.”
“Mmm hmm.” His eyes never stray from your face. You sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels in front of you, sliding each shoe off, caressing your calves. You sink a hand into his hair, bending to plant a kiss on his forehead, inhaling his scent. Notes of bergamot, the clean citrus in his cologne. Your shampoo now in his hair. Strawberry. Everything a combination of you two. Already joined in so many ways.
His hand cups one knee, his palm warm and comforting over the joint. He slides it inside, stroking under your skirt, creeping between your thighs. He nudges at the clothing that is your work attire, shoving impatiently to gain better access. You accommodate him, pushing yourself back until you’re lying horizontally across the mattress, your skirt now rucked up around your hips, the doppel’s fingers dragging your panties out of the way.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart.”
He’s on his hands and knees above you. You work on the fly of his pants. Your haste makes you clumsy. The metal teeth of the zipper catch on the fabric of his pants. He shakes his head, laughing softly, the sound turning to a growl when he struggles in your wake. It finally gives and he lowers himself down, guiding his cock into your entrance.
You gasp and his mouth crushes yours, swallowing the sound.
His hips press yours and you’re thinking of the nearby field with its fading summer flowers. That’s where you want to be wed. Here beneath the open sky, in this sanctuary of yours. You whisper it beside his cheek and he draws back, looking at your features. “Is that what you want, love?”
“Yes.” Your rock your pelvis against him, your legs wrapping around his body. “Elysium fields with my Elysian…”
“I love you,” he breathes. He thrusts and it hits something tender inside, the aching place deep in the hollow. Your fingers tangle together. Hot inside you. Something molten in your core. You’re melting. Clinging to him. The world shatters, comes back together in little pieces. Tired eyes gazing into your own. Soft smile.
***
You’re still tangled together.
Bodies intertwined. A comforter thrown over you both to ward off the chill of the oncoming autumn night. You’re discussing possible baby names again. You like the idea of something celestial. Named for the sun or the moon or one of the countless stars above. A constellation, an outline of a portrait when they arrange themselves just so. A planet, a galaxy. Infinite possibilities.
“It reminds me of a song,” Elysian murmurs. You’ve been taking turns tickling each other. You were losing horribly but determined to get revenge, making another attack along his unprotected ribs. He remains stoic and unresponsive despite your best efforts.
“What song?”
“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully. “In Other Words, I believe it’s called. How does it go?”
Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On-a Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, darling, kiss me
Your heart lurches. It’s the melody. The one Francis used to hum. The replicant notices your teasing fingers grow still and he stops singing abruptly.
“What’s wrong?”
“That was the song. The one Francis used to hum all the time.”
“Oh, love. I didn’t realize…”
“Of course not. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Your eyes feel a little full, tears brimming.
“I know you still love him. I wouldn’t ask you not to. That wouldn’t be fair.” He drags a thumb across each cheek, close to your lashes, collecting the salted liquid. “He’s always going to be present in some regard. But I can’t resent him. I have to love him a little bit, too. Because he brought me to you.”
“What if I’d called the DDD that day? What if…” More tears escape. You’re suddenly overwhelmed. If you’d contacted the disposal team and destroyed him, this person that has become your world, created a new life with you…This song was what had finally swayed you. Another gift from Francis.
“Sweetheart. You didn’t. You let me into the building. Into your heart. There’s nothing there to be sorry about, from your perspective anyway. If I had to choose again, I would not see you hurt, I would not want to take him from you, but love, how could I ever give you up? I can’t. I could never. You’re carrying our future. You’re my forever.”
His lips graze yours. Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, drawing him more firmly against your mouth. “Sing the rest for me. I want to know all the words.”
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing forever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
“I love you.”
You’re joined again. Hips and hands and mouths.
Maybe one day in the future you will be brave enough to travel with the alien into space. Explore the wonders of the heavens with your children by your side.
For now, you are content in this bliss on Earth.
#francis mosses#milkman#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman x reader#milkman x you#the milkman#doppelganger#that’s not my neighbor#tnmn francis mosses#tnmn milkman#tnmn fanfic#thats not my neighbour milkman#tnmn
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THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE TO THE BOOTHILL COMMUNITY I'm eating very well this week salute for your contribution 🫡🫡🫡 I also like the idea of sappy boothill he's the type to say "my girlfriend hates me I hope I die" and the Jessica and Roger rabbit dynamic is so!!!
he’s your ride or die. it’s most definitely a case of somebody asking “what do you see in him?” to which you reply “he makes me laugh.”
he’s so whipped to the point he’ll be in a serious debacle with somebody, guns drawn, throwing threats, but as soon as he hears the custom ringtone he’s set up that indicates that it’s you calling, he holds up a finger to his opponent and answers the call.
example: “oh, keep talking.” his gun is aimed directly in the centre of his opponent’s forehead. “one more word and i’ll blow a nice hole through yo–”
his pocket vibrates and chimes a ridiculous tune.
gun disappears back in its holster, the red targets in his irides fade and he turns his body away to answer the phone. “hey sweetie!”
his opponent is stunned. “wh–”
boothill holds up a finger. “of course i can buy dinner on the way home! what do you want to eat?” his opponent just barely hears a voice speaking on the other side of the phone. “mhm… i can get that… no problem… hey, you’re not working on friday, right? i’ll take ya out for dinner. there’s a nice little restaurant on the xianzhou luofu i think you’d like… sound good? i’ll see you tonight… love ya lots.”
probably makes kissy noises before he hangs up.
“seriously? are you–”
whoops. trigger finger’s a bit too itchy today.
adding onto what you said, he’s so sad when you’re upset with him. to me, he seems very disorganised and more of a risk taker. he’s got a body of steel; lots of risks won’t even leave a dent on him. he’s constantly running late to things, constantly leaving tasks unfinished to start something he finds more interesting. he’s in for the thrill of the ride.
one time, he forgot a date he himself had set up.
not only did he come home to find you clearly upset over it, but he was absolutely fuming at himself. apologised one million times to you, two million kisses, probably got on his knees, and he can’t ever forgive himself.
even if you’ve already forgiven him, you’re laughing and trying to get him to stand up because “you’re a grown man acting like this.” he latches onto you like a koala bear.
it’s not even that deep either. it’s just a lunch. it’s not like it was a special occasion. speaking of which, he’d never forget a birthday, valentine’s day, whatever traditional holidays you celebrate. never ever.
he’s actually such a sappy gooey loser it’s so sweet. his favourite thing to do is bury his face in your neck or your chest or your lap. he’s all over you like sticky sweet honey, and you can’t get rid of him that easily.
#$. love mail#$. anon#$. mindless prattling#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill#boothill x you#hsr boothill x reader#boothill hsr
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NAHH bc subby könig is so brain rot material like, instead of reader being free use for him, it is HE that is free use for READER. like yes whine and whimper all you want big subby man, I’m in control now. you do as I want and maybe I’ll let you use your hands.
(I started typing more but cut myself off) 💀
cw afab!f!reader, sub!könig
something about a seven foot giant and seasoned mercenary turning absolutely pathetic and desperate when it comes to you and your cunt. completely at your beck and call, willing to do whatever you ask.
riding könig to the point of overstimulation until he’s producing nothing but whines and pained, guttural pleads. for what? he doesn’t even know, too pussy-drunk and overwhelmed to think straight, brain fuzzy at the tight, wet feeling engulfing his dick. tears pool in his eyes as he watches your hips gyrate incessantly on his lap, the feeling of being fully seethed inside of you too much for him, while you ride his sensitive, large cock like he’s nothing more than one of your plastic toys. you have no regard for his feelings as you chase your own pleasure, puffy clit rubbing against his solid stomach, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body while his thick dick penetrates your spongy g-spot.
he’s transfixed and nearly drooling, eyes honed in on your breasts bouncing, head thrown back while you use him to get off. his greedy hands itch to feel your soft body, but all of his attempts get them smacked out of the way instantly, along with threats to tie them down — or even, god forbid, stopping altogether, leaving him achingly hard with no release. you’re so small in comparison, it would be so easy for him to take control of the situation, reverse the roles and fuck you on his cock like every instinct in his body is urging him to, but he doesn’t. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good. the dichotomy only adds to his frustration until he’s all flushed red and sweaty, begging to feel your cunt cream all over him, for you to prove that he is your good boy.
#bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig x you#könig x reader#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig smut#könig x you#könig mw2#könig x female reader
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pls pls pls write a gojo angsty smut based off the song wasted times by the weeknd, ILL GIVE YOU A KISS 😘
the nights got longer, dinner got colder, by the time satoru would come back home you would already be in deep sleep. you didn't want to believe whatever bad thoughts your mind was telling you, but everything pointed to satoru being someone else's, a part of you didn't want to believe it, but your heart ached.
your heart ached for him every night, sliding your arm on his side of the bed where the sheets lied cold, it hurt, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything about it, that was until you smelled a scent that never came through your nostrils, a sweet hint of vanilla, and before you could smell it again, his clothes were already in the washer.
“what was that?” crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame, watching him walk out the laundry room, his eyes tracing over you before smiling, taking a few steps closer to you before leaving an open distance. weird, all of this was weird, and you couldn't bare to be in this uncomfortable state he left you in every day.
“what was what, baby?” his eyes trailing over you again before mirroring your body language and crossing his arms, stepping closer again before leaving another open space. it was like he was scared to come closer to you because he wasn't expecting for you to be awake.
“who are they? who have you been fucking?” the words crawling out of your mouth with no hesitation and satoru's opening his with nothing coming out, just a few stammers before he tried to find his standing.
“no one. where is this coming from?” his eyes glossy as he stares directly into yours, before your eyes divert from his. you couldn't care to look at him until your heart believed that you were the only one living in his. all the signs were clear as day, but there was still a part of you that wanted you to believe that satoru wasn't that kind of man.
“where have you been? and what is that smell? why won't you touch me?” you start to choke up but hold yourself back when you realize he doesn't need to see you cry, there was no reason to, there were no answers given yet, you had to wait it out.
“they've been working me-” satoru didn't have time to finish his sentence before you cut him off, fuck this.
“whose they?” your eyes running back up to his eyes and he wasn't shaking, his body was still and even though you weren't looking at you before, his eyes were still on you, even if you didn't want to look at him. his eyes were always going to stay on you no matter what, you were always in the back of his mind, when he was sleep, taking a shower, eating, working, everything he was thinking about included you.
that's why when he came back from work he would walk to your side of the bed and crotch down and look at your beautiful face, not wanting to leave you but having to. his hand on your hip as he rubbed his thumb around a tiny spot on you, giving you a peck on the lips before taking a shower.
“work baby, work. what? am i getting cheating accusations now?” a little laugh coming out as he walks closer to you, holding out his hand and grabbing yours, putting his other hand on your cheek, leaning in and giving you a peck on the lips.
this shouldn't have made you feel at ease, but it did, you should've gotten more answers before letting him kiss you, let alone touch you, but his touch and scent made you melt under, why did you believe him? and why did you need him?
your hand slipping out of his grip and your arms going around his neck as he continues to kiss you, his kisses slipping lower to your neck and licking over your sweet spot, his hands sliding in your shorts and gripping your ass. the bulge in his pants pushing against your core, his sweet taste slipping into your mouth, making your eyes flushes.
his touch felt so good, especially the way he was gripping you, you were almost about to fall over from how good you felt, but satoru wasn't done. sliding his hands out of your shorts and pulling them down to your legs, letting them slip down while he slid your panties to the side, even one second would be too long so he just did your panties to the side while he pulled down his pants and briefs with the others.
his dick popping out, eager to be inside you, wrapping his hand around his length and lining himself up with you, sliding his length on your wet core, a small whimper coming out. still kissing him as your moans fall into his mouth, your back pushed against the wall and satoru slowly pushing himself inside of you.
“fuck… i missed you.” pushing himself deeper inside of you, satoru running his hands down your sides and on the back of your thighs, picking you up. his dick pushing into your wet spot making you throw your head back, satoru taking the opportunity to kiss your neck, that sweet taste he missed dispersing into his mouth, his cheeks flushed red.
your legs wrapped around him and his hands gripping your ass, your flesh all i his hands, each time he thrusts into you, he grips you harder, your moans coming out nonstop, he could touch your sweet spot with ease so you were in constant pleasure. holding your head back up and looking him in the eyes, they weren't the vibrant blue you would usually look at, but instead dark, almost unsettling until you realized his eyes were dilated.
satoru still pushing into you as he taps his forehead on yours, kissing you again before looking at you again.
“i'll never stop loving you, okay?” kissing again and looking at you, repeating the pattern, he never wanted to take his eyes off of you, like you were going to disappear from his clutch if he did.
“okay.” your eyes fluttering up at him as he goes in for a deeper kiss, before he pushes into you harder, his tip pressing into you making you yelp with pleasure, it was overstimulating.
“i want you to know that, baby, you're the only one for me.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#x reader#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#gojo jjk#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#satoru gojo#satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru
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LACY (p. jay)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
includes: oral (f receiving), fingering, crying, insecurities, soft dom! jay, praising, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, hate comments
word count: 3.4k
synopsis: 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘫𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩
guts event masterlist ⋆♱✮♱⋆ main masterlist
Looking at your phone makes you want to throw up.
“out of literally everyone he pulls… that? gotta be a joke”
“jay deserves sm better”
“if that thing got a chance with him that means i’d be unstoppable”
“pls tell me this is a joke”
“girlie gotta have a good head game cuz ain’t no way lmfao”
As if you don’t feel bad enough about yourself already.
Ever since the photo of you and your boyfriend coming back from a date leaked to the internet, there’s been nothing but a ridiculous amount of hatred directed towards your clueless self.
In the morning Jay’s text saying please stay offline today baby was enough to make your stomach churn without even knowing what was actually happening. And against his words and your common sense, your fingers instantly went to the first better social media app on screen’s your homepage.
And so with every single comment put out on the internet, you feel your confidence and self-worth slowly crumbling down until they have eventually worn you out and you’re nothing but a sobbing mess ever since the morning. Your head hurts from all the crying yet the slightly masochistic part of yourself doesn’t let you tear your gaze away from the screen.
Maybe it’s because deep down you’ve always felt like you’re not good enough to be dating such a man as Jay, and the insecure thoughts he’s worked so hard to bury six feet underneath your feet have just resurfaced once again.
Knowing he’s surrounded by almost literal embodiments of the beauty standard on a daily basis and then having to come home to a plain nobody like you can’t be good for no one’s mental health, that’s for sure.
“Baby?”
The lump stretches your throat too painfully for you to make any other sound than the whimper you let out, and soon you hear Jay’s footsteps approaching your suffocatingly silent room.
“Are you there, love?”
You press your trembling lips together and nod your head, trying to force yourself to stop being so emotional for once. The last thing you want him to do is deal with… this, whatever your current state is.
“You’ve been reading the comments,” he points out quietly, but not with accusation – only worry. His heart squeezes with desperation to somehow make you feel better, yet you take his silence as a sign of disappointment in you.
And somehow you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, too swallowed by shame.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper eventually after a couple beats of silence. Your head drops lowly onto your bunched up knees. “I just had to see it myself.”
“Hey, no more twitter, no more instagram – no more,” Jay pleads softly as he carefully takes your phone out of your weak grasp and sets it on the bedside table, only to thread his fingers through yours and intertwine them together. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please, stop crying, beautiful. They don’t deserve your tears, hm?”
A sob rips out of your throat and echoes through the silent room, simultaneously breaking your boyfriend’s heart in two. “It’s just… I-,” you’re unable to finish your sentence with the hundreds of thoughts running around your mind, not giving you a moment of peace since hours ago.
“I know nothing I say will make you feel better now,” Jay whispers, shuffling closer on the bed until his chest is pressed against your shoulder and he envelops you in a protective embrace. He presses a warm kiss to your temple. “I love you. I hate to see you like that, honey.”
You nod your head, sniffling loudly and choking on your own sobs. “I love you too,” you cry quietly, moving your head to rest against his chest. “I just don’t feel good with myself right now.”
Jay hums. His hands blindly reach to your face to wipe your tears away, fingers gently caressing your damp face. “I know.” His words are muffled by your hair as he nuzzles his face in it. “I’m sorry.”
You can clearly hear the violent beating of his heart from your position and the insides of your stomach twist with sadness because you know well he’s blaming himself for everything. He promised to protect you at the beginning of your relationship, forever and always, and yet he’s failed at the one thing that should’ve been of the highest importance to him.
He felt conflicted about his job more times than he would like to admit. The constant restrictions, always having to watch his words and actions, the almost non-existent privacy – it was tough, annoying, but he could take it.
But he’s never hated being who he is more than he does right now. Seeing the person he loves the most, the person who holds his entire world, being in such a miserable state because of his job makes him feel just so helpless.
Swallowing his self-pity, Jay soothes you as gently as he can. His fingers thread through your hair, waiting patiently until your heavy sobs turn into hiccups and eventually small whimpers.
“I chose you, YN,” he finally says softly, hand pushing the hair sticking to your face away as the other one cups your cheek and brings you to look at him. “I chose you and I’d choose you over everyone else. It’s always going to be you. Always.”
You blink your lashes heavy with tears, cheeks stinging from the excessive amount of them that has dropped down your face. He nudges your cheek with his nose before pressing a gentle kiss to your brow bone. This tender gesture and his words finally allow the smallest smile to appear on your lips.
“There’s my pretty girl,” Jay giggled. His arms wrap tighter around you before he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t fully love yourself yet, I can do it for the both of us for now, baby. Please, believe me.”
You nod your head, now choked up for a whole different reason. You let him lean in and join your lips together in a sweet kiss. His knuckles caress your cheeks and chin as he plants a chain of pecks on your swollen mouth.
He tries to break the kiss but you don’t let him get too far away, pulling him back in by his neck and crashing your lips together again, this time more desperately. Jay’s fingers slip into the loopholes of your pants, bringing you closer and closer until there’s no space left between your chests.
The hushed I love you’s coming out from both of your mouths, his warm lips sucking a kiss after kiss on yours, his hand that drops down and sneaks underneath your top to linger over your skin – you’re becoming dizzy from the overwhelming love you’re being given.
“I’ve achieved everything because of you, love. I am who I am because of you,” he breathes out into your lips, forehead bumping against yours. One last time, he kisses the whatever is left of your tears away, then goes back to your hungry lips. “I’d give you the world if you asked me to. Let me take care of you, like you always do for me.”
With a strong move, he pulls you off his lap and lays you down on the plushy bedding. You shiver when the warmth of his body leaves you, only to catch your breath when he drops to the ground with the dull sound of his knees hitting the wooden floor.
His warm hands rub your thighs soothingly, palming your inflamed skin before his lips follow their lead and pepper small kisses all over them, gradually traveling higher. You can hardly breathe from the tension, impatiently waiting for his every next move, the exhaustion in your body making you feel everything tenfold.
The whisper you let out is strangled because of the prominent tingling in between your thighs. “I need you, Jay.”
With a hum of acknowledgement, he unzips then takes off your pants along with your underwear, discarding the clothes somewhere on the floor blindly. Breath hitches in your throat when he leans forward and finally buries his face between your legs, lips softly grazing your warmth.
His hands push on your inner thighs, holding your legs wide open as he leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy. A jolt shoots through your body when his teeth brush over your clit before he ducks his head down and engulfs it with his warm mouth entirely.
A shiver runs down your spine when his tongue runs flat against your clit, another but longer lick following right after. Your fingers clench on the duvet beneath you as you pant and whimper with every move that he makes.
Jay’s thumbs circle and press on the smooth skin on your thighs, he himself humming and grunting into your pussy as he slurps you up.
You’re perfect, so perfect in his eyes, yet the angle is still not satisfying to him, constantly searching for a better access to your quivering hole. Suddenly, his arms wrap around your knees and he swiftly lifts your legs further up, almost folding you in half as he sinks his mouth in your wetness again, groaning at how much better he can eat you out now. Properly.
A loud moan ripples from your throat and you jerk in his hold violently, not expecting him to just manhandle you like this. You’re just there, mind blank and eyes fluttering shut when Jay pushes his tongue into your hole, fucking and stretching you with it as best as he can. He’s being so loud with it, so nasty that you can’t help but surrender yourself to him completely, losing yourself to him over and over again.
Two of his warm fingers circle your weeping hole before letting them sink inside slowly, gently. With the addiction of his nose brushing over your clit, his tongue never halting its movements and now working in harmony with his fingers, you’re barely responsive.
You mewl and whine breathlessly, sweat starting to create a thin layer on your worked up body. Jay pulls away to take a breath and admire your blissed out face, long fingers curling up, and he ducks his head to cover your sensitive thighs with marks and bites.
“Aah, s’ good,” you slur out, arching your back off the bed slightly.
“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jay asks, sucking one last hickey on your inner thigh before moving back to your needy cunt. You can only hum in agreement, the noise quickly turning into another string of moans and wails as you feel your approaching high.
Jay cranes his neck to get to you at the best angle, one that will help you reach your climax the fastest. He didn’t even realize when his now hard cock started rutting against the bed slowly, only focused on you and you only, restraining his own pleasure.
You open your mouth to warn him of your incoming release but before you can do that, Jay speeds up the movement of his fingers and has you coming within a second, a loud cry of his name on your lips serving as honey for his ears.
He drags his face away from your glistening pussy to take a look at your face.
You’re so beautiful, so perfect, soft and all his.
“My prettiest,” he murmurs, planting a bunch of kisses against your thighs and stomach before lifting himself on his arms and crawling to get you to face him, laying breathlessly beneath him.
He lowers himself to kiss you right on the lips, the slick from his face smearing against yours slightly but you’re too far gone to pay it any mind.
“I love you,” is all you’re able to choke out in a whisper. Jay smiles and brushes his nose against yours, kissing you once, then twice and thrice before letting you fill your lungs again.
“I love you more.”
And as much as you want to protest at first, you realize that he might be actually right. There’s no doubt of your feelings or devotion to him, you gave him your entire heart a long time ago, entrusted him with all you are and had enough faith in him to never make you regret your decision.
But no one loves like Jay does. His love is pure and raw, coming from the depth of his heart and overshadowing all other feelings you’ve ever harbored to another man.
That’s how you also know that no matter anything you’ll always end up together, overcome everything.
His gentle hands grab the bottom of the t-shirt you’re wearing, his actually now that he takes a better look at it, then lifts it up, revealing your perky breasts to him. He plants kisses against them, simultaneously unzipping his pants and kicking them down to the floor. His boxers are discarded next and you help him unbutton his shirt with your shaky fingers.
“Make me yours,” you say into his lips once you’re done with that, hand pressed against his cheek.
Your words are enough to send Jay’s patience out the window, and he’s lifting your leg to hook it over his waist before sinking his hard cock inside you, your walls instantly sucking him in to the hilt. He groans at the warmth that engulfs him, squeezing him so tightly he can barely move.
Your heart pounds in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks at the intimacy, his eyes boring into you lovingly. Because that’s what he is. Utterly, hopelessly lovesick.
His chest heaves above yours for a moment as he lets you adjust and relax around him before settling for a slower and deep pace. Your breaths get ragged quickly, listening to the filthy squelching whenever he pulls out of you only to sink in further each time.
“See, baby? It’s all good now,” he rasps, sweaty hair beginning to cling to his forehead because of the stuffiness in your bedroom. “You don’t need anyone else. Only me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Only you,” you repeat after him, watching his eyes sparkle and eyebrows furrow.
He lets out a chuckle, out of breath. “Good girl.”
His hold on you tightens as he fucks into you, his large hand slipping to the back of your head and pressing your face to his neck. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic and messy, and the only thing you’re able to do at the moment is whine desperately into his skin and wrap your other leg over his hips, thighs clenching his sides even tighter.
You feel better. You feel heavenly. You feel loved.
He bullies his way so deep inside you that you feel as if on the verge of blacking out. It’s so good. You’re pretty sure you’re going to leave a drool stain on your boyfriend’s toned shoulder once you pull away from there as you’re just unable to close your mouth for a second, too fucked out to have any control over it now.
“Can I go a little faster, sweetheart?” Jay asks.
You whine into the junction of his neck. “Mhm.”
And so he does, his touch growing in intensity as well. He lets go of your neck and your head falls back onto the pillows and you finally get to look at his face, expression so soft and tender, and a stark contrast to the way he fucks you.
Your stomach sets ablaze with every loud clap of his hips against yours, his precum making a mess on your thighs.
“Fucking hell,” he moans lowly, not being able to get enough of the doe-eyed look you’re giving him. He didn’t know it was possible, but he thinks he loves you even a little more than yesterday.
The sloppy sound of your wet skin colliding with his ricochets off of your bedroom’s walls and your eyes water again – this reason completely contrasting to the earlier heartbreak. Jay is here to kiss all of your tears away, his warm lips tracing your cheeks and collecting every salty droplet that falls on your skin.
You throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulder blades. And then he reaches down with the one hand that’s not holding you, pressing his fingers on your swollen clit and rubbing circles on it, making you grow lightheaded again.
His never ceasing thrusts keep hitting your g-spot, without even giving you a second to breathe.
“J-Jay,” you whimper, voice wet and small, and he knows exactly what you want to communicate to him.
You fall apart in his arms as your orgasm hits your sensitive pussy even harder this time, making you squirt with a shallow gasp for air. You feel completely owned by him at the moment.
Jay’s eyes roll to the back of his skull for a hot minute, his cock aching and twitching as your walls spasm and squeeze him mercilessly. He buries his face in your neck now, nibbling under your ears and panting heavily against your skin.
Jay cums hard, probably harder than he ever has before – all because he knows he’s fucked you so good you can’t stop shaking in his arms. His own thighs begin to quiver a little as he ruts his emptying cock into your warm pussy, filling you up so nicely.
It’s the choked up wail that leaves your throat that spurs him into pushing more of his throbbing length into your sensitive self. His warm cum fills you to the brim, seeping slowly onto your thighs, yet he keeps snapping his hips against you slowly. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Take it all.”
Your lips part and when he pulls away from your neck, he immediately slides his tongue against yours. His kisses are sloppy and hot and wet but that only pushes you even further into the state of bliss, completely losing your mind for the man above you.
Your back is arched, making you press your chest into his forcefully as you jolt and twitch from overstimulation as he pulls out his soft cock out of you carefully.
Jay’s lips press to your temple warmly with a soothing intention. You try to catch your breath, body sweaty and clammy just like your hair. Yet you look just as pretty as ever to him. His prettiest girl.
He collapses onto the bed next to you and lets you cling to him for as long as you want to, holding you tightly to his chest and drowning you in praises and compliments. It’s only when he notices that your eyelids are growing heavy that he gently pulls you away and up from the bed, steadying your wobbly self on the rug beside your bed.
You look at him in confusion, eyes misty and tired and he can’t help but giggle and kiss you one more time. “We should probably take a shower first,” he flicks your nose when you scrunch it up slightly but then you nod your head.
When you start walking into the direction of the bathroom, goosebumps spiking your skin despite the hot temperature in the room, you turn around and frown when you notice that Jay has stayed behind you.
“You’re not coming, love?” You ask but he shakes his head.
“You go first, baby. I’ll be right there in a second.” He nods his head to the ruined bedding. “Gotta change the sheets first.”
You flush as you take in the mess you’ve both made. “Right,” you mumble and then disappear behind the door.
When you’re both showered and back in the bed together, you’re propping yourself on your elbows, trying to reach the switch of the lamp on the bedside table. You don’t get far when Jay’s arm wraps itself across your torso and brings you back down, right into his chest.
“Stay,” he mumbles, nuzzling his face in your hair.
You giggle quietly but give in and lay comfortably, half on the bed and half on your boyfriend. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jay hums lowly. “I mean forever. Stay with me forever.”
You look at him, eyes slightly widening despite how tired you are, and his words take your breath away when you realize he’s dead serious. You’re at a loss of words, looking at the man by your side, stunned, yet he only smiles lazily and brings your hand to his lips to press his warm lips against your knuckles.
“Marry me.”
Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately
And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you
Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you
taglist: @luvkpopp @yannew @hoonxclsvly @jongseongslvr @beomgyusonlywife @starggukies @koizekomi @ineedsomezzz @starl1ghtsinthedark @enhastolemyheart @seokseokjinkim @parksunghoonsgf @skzenhalove @somekpopshiteu97 @enhypens-hoe @alpha-mommy69 @jwnzlvr @wondipity
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @kissestojapan
note: i actually really like how it turned out xx
#carly's 2k event ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen hard hours#park jay x reader#jay x reader smut#jay x reader#park jay imagines#park jay smut#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay smut#jay hard hours
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“you stink of nanami.”
alpha gojo satoru complains. his nostrils flaring at the scent lingering in your skin. detecting the heady scent of sandalwood. rich and comforting and yet evoking of dominance unlike to his warm and woody scent with a hint of sweetness belonging to his blonde kouhai. a pout in his lips and it's uncommon for domineering alphas like him to act like it.
“and?” you begrudgingly respond to him. “i was with nanami-san earlier.” you continued. beginning to stack the piles of folders in front of you and sorting them. “what about it gojo-san?”
“you're aware of it as an omega?” the question stops you from whatever you were doing. dropping the last folder and looking at him with a confused look. “i am?” your answer unsure of what you really want to say.
“what are you implying gojo-san?”
“is nanami courting you?”
“yes.”
“and i'm not?”
“what do you mean?”
the alpha in front of you removes his dark-tinted glasses. an “o” forms in your mouth. unaware of the courting he was making to you. always thought of them as just casual behavior towards you since you have nanami, his kouhai is currently courting you.
“i'm sorry gojo-san. i thought they were just gifts since you do that to everyone.” you confessed honestly. biting your lips in guilt at the gestures he was making to you as an effort to court you.
come to think of it he was still an unmated alpha and so is nanami and so are you and you didn't have any experience regarding to the courting or the mating process since you were not deemed as what omegas looks like. physically thin with slender frames with sweet features unlike you with a bigger frame that alphas strays away from you since you don't look like you were worth to be protecting and so you accepted it not until a few months back when nanami took interest in you and began courting you and gojo following until you only discovered it now.
“you hurt me.” he fakes a pout. slowly trudging to your way. towering you with his height and his scent is over in the place. “do you not want me as your alpha?” a low growl emitting from his chest. his blue eyes shining brighter. grabbing you by your plush waist and he bites back a moan from such heavenly feel of your soft body.
“g-gojo-san — i—”
“stay away from my omega, gojo.” nanami's firm voice interrupts him from further scenting you but the white-haired sorcerer is still in your neck. glancing at the other alpha in the room. “not your omega, she's still not mated.” a deep, low guttural growl coming from the blonde sorcerer serves as a warning for the another alpha in front of him. his own scent clashing against the another scent causing it to permeate around the room and your poor omega couldn't contain the excitement of two alphas fighting over you.
chest puffed out as thet assert their dominance to each other not letting it surrender. a sign of weakness it is and not wanting to disappoint the omega they are courting.
it is the scent of their sweet, little 'mega that broke the unwavering assertion of dominance between them. a scent similar to freshly baked bread that entices the hungry. both alphas are now in full attention to their omega. a curse leaving nanami's lips at what's happening. they accidentally set you in an early heat by blasting their pheromones in full.
“'t hurts. —hurts...” you whimpered. rubbing your creamy thighs together as slick gushes out from your warm needy hole.
nanami is the first to comfort you. “oh, darling.” he carries you by grabbing your butt cheeks. hoisting you in a easy feat and you instinctively clings to him. “—nami.” purring his name in a adorable manner and his cock throbs at the mere voice of you.
“you're not taking her away from me, nanami.” gojo grabs his arm. nanami scowls at him. “it's your fault, you fucking idiot.” he ignores it.
“i have to take responsibility.” he snakes his lanky arms around you. squeezing your doughy stomach and his hands wandered to the zipper of your skirt. his slender fingers unzipping your skirt. “we want to make our sweet 'mega to feel good, don't we?”
his finger rubbing your slit through your slick-covered panties. “right 'mega?” he whispers and your hips roll to get more of that delicious friction. “y—yes, alpha.” you moaned out. “w—want you to breed me. want your knot in me.” you began to whine. “want you in me, kento. satoru.”
gojo smirks in delight. “you heard our sweet 'mega. na-na-mi.” his name in a sing-song voice mockingly. nanami sighs.
nanami swallows thickly. spreading your thighs in a delicate manner while he kneels in front of your clothed cunt. he can already taste you by the scent of your pussy. he scowls at the idiot above him who is currently unbuttoning your blouse one by one. letting your breast free and being engulfed in his large palms. fondling the soft flesh and tweaking your hardened buds between his fingers.
“don't you dare fucking mark her.” he warns at his elder but who knows. gojo just simply smile at him.
this isn't what he had in mind when he's going to taste his mate omega for the first time. he had it laid out. the utmost care and making you feel loved and deserved and worshipped by him instead he has to take care of your heat along with the idiot. the rough pads of his fingers glides through the expanse of your flesh. goosebumps rising at places where his fingers made contact along with the whine of being needy for him. hooking the bands of your panties with his fingers and slowly sliding the garment down to your legs and placing it in his pockets.
your fat pussy is drenched with your slick. your hole drips at the slightest stimulation. he parts your pussy lips with his fingers and before he knew it. he's taking the biggest lick of your sopping cunt. your reaction was the best. never leaving the sight out of your face morphing into one of a euphoric expression. “ken!” you screamed. “m—more please.” you requested and nanami gratefully obliged already addicted at the taste of your slick.
his hand squeezes your soft belly while the other one holds your thick thigh perched in his shoulder while he ate you out. each suck getting harsher and more obscene noises of your pussy being devoured by him. your breathy moans engulfed by his lips as much as nanami hates it, you needed it to give your needs.
you were still needy after orgasm after orgasm with his tongue and he needed to stop with your heat temporarily quenched even his desire is already to breed you at the spot but a man like him finds it improper. wanting to mark you and claim as his mate but it gets impossible when there's another alpha in the room like him.
he just need to get rid of him. sooner or later.
#꩜ ⋮ shai's thirst/drabbles⸝⸝#chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#jjk x reader#nanami kento x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#nanami smut#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento#a/b/o verse#a/b/o
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heyy!!!
can i request lando x volleyball girlie who did vb for two years but has to quit because of a knee injury please? feel free to ignore if this doesn't spark anything!!
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓)
· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` it’s giving oikawa from haikyuu ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Volleyball was all you ever known, and everything was looking up in your career, until an injury. Luckily, your boyfriend is there to hope you cope and get better.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lando Norris x Volleyball!Fem!Reader
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌: Maddie Madayag (for volleyball photos)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of a injury but nothing severe.
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ tysm for the request! I decided to do my own little spin on this with making this a bit more of a crack fic but definitely kept the volleyball and knee injury! Also, this is pretty short! I’m so sorry with the length of this, but i really liked this request and wanted to do it! I hope you enjoy it 🩶 I’ve had my fair share of injuries that led me to quit what i loved, so the fic kinda hits hard for me 🥹 i used to play football/soccer growing up until i pulled my back muscle in my 9th year of school and wasn’t able to play the same ever again, injuries suck 👎
Twitter
(PS: Date on photo does not matter, fic happens between Aus and Japan GP!)
Instagram
y/n_volleys posted a story 3 minutes ago!
username, landonorris, username and other replied to your story!
username1 MISS GIRL.
username2 OMG 😭😭
username3 HELLO??? NOT THE ACL
username4 we’re cooked 😞😞
landonorris THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU INJURED YOURSELF???
landonorris HOLD ON
landonorris I’M NOT MESSAGING YOU THROUGH INSTAGRAM DMS.
landonorris OPEN MY MESSAGES.
iMessages
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y/n_volleys ✔︎
liked by landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon, and others
y/n_volleys success!! surgery went well. heartbroken to be going out like this especially before the olympics but i will be coming back stronger 💪 time to take some time to myself 🫶
3,214 comments
landonorris ✔︎ whatever you do don’t move out of bed before i get home
landonorris ✔︎ drink water
landonorris ✔︎ get sleep
landonorris ✔︎ enjoy your cookie ice cream thing
landonorris ✔︎ don’t exercise too much
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ lando are you my bf or my mom?
→ landonorris ✔︎ right now i’m being a caring boyfriend 🤨🤨 im sorry i love you 😒
→ username5 i want to have love like this.
→ username6 google, how do i find a bf that cares about me, has a good job, is funny, kind, and loves me more than the world? 🧑💻
→ lilymunihe ✔︎ @ alexalbon why aren’t you like this with me
→ alexalbon ✔︎ i literally already am 😕😕
→ lilymunihe ✔︎ i don’t see my cookies and ice cream in a mug.
username7 the leg injury is giving oikawa from haikyu
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ …no… no.. NO DON’T TAKE ME BACK TO 2020
→ username8 Y/N IS GETTING WAR FLASHBACKS
iMessages
Instagram
y/n_volleys posted a story 24 minutes ago!
lilymunihe, username, username and other replied to your story!
username9 ZOO WEE MAMA 😍
→ y/n_volleys that’s my bf 😍😍
username10 GIRL DID YOU HAVE TO POST THIS
→ y/n_volleys I NEED TO SHOW PEOPLE WHAT THEY ARE MISSING 😣😣
lilymunihe ✔︎ GIRL WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS HERE
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ girl fuck them kids 🗣️ ‼️
y/n_volleys ✔︎
liked by landonorris, bsf_username, lailahasanovic and others
y/n_volleys get yourself a bf who takes care of you after tearing you leg apart 🩷
tagged ; landonorris
3,245 comments
username11 they are actually so cute
username12 dumping my bf if he doesn’t do this more me.
oscarpiastri ✔︎what a caption!
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ do you want it in full detail
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ no.
carlosainz55 ✔︎ did lando ever finish that puzzle?
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ he did finish it
→ carlosainz55 ✔︎ …did?
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ yeah it was finished BEFORE HE DROPPED IT ON THE FLOOR TRYING TO MOVE IT
→ landonorris ✔︎ I SAID I WAS SORRY.
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ you left your injured gf to clean up the mess 😞😞
→ maxfewtrell ✔︎ wooowww lando… @ landonorris
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ what a gentleman @ landonorris
→ carlosainz55 ✔︎ntsk tsk… @ landonorris
→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ some boyfriend you are @ landonorris
→ landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE I WENT TO GO GET THE BROOM
→ username13 it’s not a good day if y/n and lando fight with each other (lovingly)
lando.jpeg ✔︎
liked by y/n_volleys, carlosainz55, oscarpisatri and others
lando.jpeg gf appreciation post (pre injury photo included 😱)
2,571 comments
y/n_volleys ✔︎ last photo makes this feel like a facebook mom post
y/n_volleys ✔︎ i want to kiss you rn 🥹 i love you so much 🧡
→ lando.jpeg you are literally in the bed next to me rn turn over and kiss me on my hot mouth. i’m feeling romantical
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ what did i just read.
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ shakespeare 😍
username14 not them playing minecraft together :((
→ username15 but the real question is… did they put their beds next to each other?
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ wooooahhhh what kind of unholy person do you think i am???
→ lando.jpeg ✔︎ we aren’t insane 🙄 🙄
username16 i wish i was y/n
→ username17 fuck being y/n i want to be lando he has a amzing woman as his gf.
y/n_volleys ✔︎
liked by landonorris, usavwnt and others
y/n_volleys different from my other posts… but I wanted to give a big thank you to all the fans, my family, and friends for the nonstop support for me and overcoming thi injury. I can’t wait to be back in rehab training for you all to see me back on the court 🩷 lots of love!! 🥹
3,501 comments
usavwnt ✔︎ glad to see you improve and get better! see you back on the court!! 💪
Liked by y/n_volleys!
username18 not the free feet pics 😣😣
username19 y/n and lando are such cutie
username20 i’m so happy to see her get the support she needs ❤️🩹
landnorris ✔︎ and where is my shout out and tag???
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ i’d also love to give a big shout out to my amazing, brunet, curly haired, British, born in Bristol boyfriend, who lives in Monaco and treats me like a princess, and is the kindest, sweetest, funniest man I’ve ever met in my life who also happens to be a f1 driver ❤️
→ landnorris ✔︎ much better 😋😋
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ aw (i’m going to throw up if you keep kissing in the garage)
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ ..oscar… I thought we agreed to keep that between us three…
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ whoops
→ username21 bro outed them and said “whoops” 💀💀
#☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ��#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula one x you#☆ﾟ smau ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris#lando#mclaren formula 1#formula 1 x reader#carlos sainz#max verstappen#oscar piastri#max fewtrell#f1 fic#f1 social media au#charles leclerc#f1
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oooh art would be lowkey freaky. i feel like he’s also a super munch. he’ll let you sit on his face for hours!!
cw: 18+ mdni, cunnilingus, ambiguous era, afab reader, slight brat!reader, teasing, like two spanks (+ one instance of ass play + very slight anal fingering)
Art devours you like no one else ever could, burying his tongue into your pussy for hours on end. If he could, he’d do it 24/7. He does it enough as it is away. As a wake up call, a way to say goodnight, in the shower, on your period, from behind while you’re cooking, in a pool chair, you get the gist. If you asked what he favorite sexual act to do with you was, there’s not a single doubt in your mind that it would be slurping up your pussy.
You’ve never sat on his face before though, too scared to break his neck after reading a story on your phone about that happening to someone else. It’d be a real mood killer to come down from you high to see your boyfriend dead to the world, literally. You didn’t talk about it again after the initial awkward discussion that ended with you dismissing it. But he just looks so hot in the early morning sun, a rare sleepy day in where you actually get to marvel at what Art looks like when he’s relaxed.
You bite your lip and shake him gently, trying not to shy away and curl up into a ball when he eventually groans and rubs his eyes open.
“Morning, baby.” He grunts in his husky morning voice.
He immediately puckers his lips for a kiss that you provide with less casual confidence than usual. His brow furrows, and he caresses the inside of your wrist with his thumb.
“What’s up? Are you hungry?” He asks you, thinking that you’re needing him to run and get you coffee or something.
You say no and play with your hands, the ache you’ve been feeling between your thighs only grows the more you look into his eyes.
“I just…. I need you.” You whisper.
Art squints his eyes, not sure what you mean. Then he recalls how he usually wakes you up in the morning, “Oh. You need me, huh?”
You nod and spread your legs, giving a view of your bare pussy. You took your underwear off earlier when the feeling got to be too much.
“Can you say it for me, angel? Tell me what you need and i’ll give it you.” He grins, teasing you. “If you woke me up, you must need whatever it is really bad.”
You roll your eyes and straddle him, sighing in bliss when he latches onto your hips. You’d put up more of a fight if you weren’t so horny, but you’ll let Art have his fun this time.
“I need you to eat me out.” You hold back the ‘obviously’ that you want to tack onto the end of your sentence.
Art’s grin widens and he makes you rock back and forth on his clothed bulge. He waist until you’re juices are wetting the fabric of his underwear before he pats your thigh, telling you to get off. You don’t budge and allow him to get into the typical position. Instead you lift your hips and shuffle up the bed until you’re hovering over his face.
“I want you to eat me out like this.”
Art’s grin falters as his eyes widen in shock for a second, you must really be pent up if you’re being this bold. He’s not complaining, he’d been waiting patiently for you to get comfortable enough to use him like a chair. You’re enough of a brat to change your mind if he acts too smug about getting what he wants even if you want it too though, so he tones it down.
“Get to it then, angel.” He smirks, his words trailing off into a satisfied sigh. “Give me a taste of this pretty pussy, don’t hold back.”
He flattens his tongue expectantly and leans his head back against the pillows.
Before you can even hesitate, Art snakes his arms under your legs and yanks your body down, making you drop your weight on him. You yelp but he doesn’t let you squirm away from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue lying still beneath you feels strange for a second, but a slap to your ass snaps you out of it enough to start moving your hips.
You shout and grab onto the headboard, getting yourself off on your boyfriend’s face. You play with one of your tits as you start to bounce on him, craving more of his tongue.
You reach down and tug on his hair, suddenly feeling too shy to make eye contact. He hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, and your cheeks warm in embarrassment at the thought of how messy you already look.
He winks at you, not moving at all and letting you take your fill. Well that’s not what you want anymore, so you tug his hair harder and beg.
“Please, baby, just tongue fuck me already. Don’t you want to? ‘m getting tired…” You whine, pouting down at him.
You stop your hips when you don’t get an answer. Art’s eyes crinkle in delight at your predicament, but he gives in to you. He always does, you just don’t like when he puts you on the spot and makes you wait like this. Secretly you kinda enjoy how he acts in bed, but you like putting up a fight way more.
Art curls his tongue around your clit and you throw your head back. He gives the throbbing bud a few customary sucks and then he jabs his tongue into your wet hole. You moan and grab onto his hair, bouncing on him in time with his tongue’s short thrusts. You roll your hips down against the slick appendage and cry out when it hits the right spot, grasping onto the headboard for dear life.
“Oh my god, feels so good! Wanted you in my pussy, need you there, sucking me dry-what the fuck, yes!” You squeal, firmly keeping his face nuzzled into your pussy and your thighs around his head.
His hands are playing with your ass while he eats you out. You’re mid bounce when you feel one of his thumbs prod at your ass hole, and the barest hint of having two of your wholes filled gets you moving faster on him. He spread your cheeks wider and kneads the flesh, jiggling them in his hands.
Art responds in kind and slides his tongue around whatever parts of your juicy pussy he can, scooping up your juices and guzzling them down as he stabs his tongue through your sopping folds.
You’d normally pull him back by his hair when you got close, not wanting to get him too dirty with your cum. But now you’re tightening your thighs over his ears and and stuffing his nose into your trimmed pubic hair, bouncing like your life depends on it.
Art spanks you again when your walls spasm around his tongue thirty seconds later. He gulps your orgasm down with love in his eyes and a heartbeat in his dick. He coos at your soft sniffles and massages your trembling thighs when you get up and collapse beside him.
“Thanks for breakfast, angel, I’d rate it 5 stars”. He laughs, half jokingly and half seriously.
“Whatever, perv.” You weakly smack him on the chest and groan, trying to keep your soul in your body. “Go get coffee… please.”
#this one is so bad but oh well#mike faist#challengers#challengers x reader#challengers smut#challengers 2024#challengers movie#mike faist challengers#art donaldson smut#art donaldson challengers#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#challengers film#mike faist x you#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#🕊️.alivedove#🎧.asks#challengers x you#challengers fic#x reader smut#x reader
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