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literaila · 4 months ago

Note

Can we get a scene where reader and satoru get sent to the principals office? I think it would be so chaotic

“y/n,” satoru coos, poking at your cheek. “c’mon, i know you want to say something.”

you slap his hand away, refusing to look at him.

“you’re scowling, and your mouth keeps twitching,” your face hardens even more and satoru sighs. “just let it out. it’s just us, you know? no need to feel self conscious around little old me.”

you let his stupid arrogant voice ring out, crossing your arms.

your eyes are drooping, your neck is sore and you feel… furious, idiotic, nervous, and most of all—furious.

this is all gojo’s stupid fault, with his stupid ideas, his stupid sunglasses, and his stupid gps.

seriously, how dumb can one person be?

you’ve gotten in trouble with him before—for bickering during training, or stealing his snacks, or being late for dinner because someone forgot how to tie his shoes—but it’s never been this bad.

yaga’s never had to step out of the classroom for so long to… what? avoid a heart attack? keep his head from exploding?

so if you’re ignoring satoru and secretly plotting his demise, who can blame you?

if nanami were here, he would approve.

gojo groans. “just say something,” he pleads. “i hate the silent treatment. i might die. do you want me to die?”

and maybe it’s his tone of voice, or the innocence he’s showboating, or his mental incompetence, but you break.

“go to hell,” you hiss, still staring at the chalk board.

damn it.

he grins at you, pulling on the sleeve of your shirt. “that’s not very friendly,” he tells you. “what would haibara say?”

maybe you can’t look at him because his face is another one of your breaking points. if only yaga was as susceptible to his grin as you.

“he would tell you to stop antagonizing me,” you slump down in your seat, feet tapping against the floor anxiously.

“what? i wouldn’t do that to my favorite underclassman.”

“this is all your fault.”

satoru snorts. “i cant even drive,” he argues. “and you’re the one who made the key.”

“only because i was listening to you! you told me no one would even notice.”

“i don’t recall.”

“‘c’mon, y/n,’” you mock, “‘it’ll be fine. everyone’s sleeping. don’t you wanna go for a joyride?’”

“who is that supposed to be?”

“i can’t believe you.”

satoru sighs. “how is this my fault? you’re the one who couldn’t sleep.”

you finally turn to him, eyes sharper than daggers. his smile can go to hell too.

“i hope you’ve enjoyed your life so far because it’s going to be over as soon as we get out of here.”

“go ahead and try, sweetheart.”

“i will kill you—“

satoru shakes his head. then he holds his hands up in defense. “you try and help a friend,” he says, so pitifully. “you try to be nice and instead of thank you, you get threatened.”

you lean towards him unconsciously. everything about satoru is a antithesis to evolution, to karma. “you want me to thank you for getting me potentially expelled?”

he laughs. “you’re worried about yaga? that pushover? when me and suguru broke that wall he just told us that curfew was an hour earlier.”

“well we didn’t break a wall, you dimwit! we stole a car!”

satoru taps at the table, snorting. “dimwit? that’s what you came up with?”

“it’s four in the morning!”

“is that why you’re so moody?”

“i am not moody,” you kick at his leg. “you’re just annoying.”

if nothing else, at least the bickering is a nice distraction from the actual crisis at hand.

in a couple of days you’ll probably appreciate this moment for what it is. appreciate gojo for caring about your insomnia and pulling you away from your hell of a world for at least a couple of hours.

you’ll recognize him for what he is. you’ll remember that the only reason you agreed to a late night drive with him is because of those eyes, because he smiled at you when he asked and—

you’ll look back at this fondly someday.

but for right now you would like to blame gojo for everything and punch him in his stupid face.

he nudges you back. “you’re freaking out about this for no reason.”

“we’re locked in a classroom waiting for yaga’s verdict,” you grind out, “he dragged you in by your ear.”

gojo waves a hand. he leans back in the chair, hands behind his head. “he’ll yell at us for an hour and then make us clean the common room.”

“i saw a vein on his forehead.”

“that’s always been there.”

you sigh and close your eyes. “i’m going to be homeless. i’m gonna be kicked out and i’ll have to work at a gas station for the rest of my life and i’ll probably be fired and i’ll never amount to anything.”

satoru laughs.

you whine, laying across the desk. “i’m never going to see shoko again.”

“i’m sure she’ll visit you at the gas station. you know how much she smokes.”

you make a face. “i’ll have to find some old rich guy to marry.”

“just marry me instead,” satoru suggests, easily.

you give him a blank stare. “you’re already dead in this scenario.”

he yawns, looking around. then he turns back to you. “are you really only going to miss shoko? what about me?”

“i’ll go to your funeral, i guess.”

satoru pouts. “i was helping you! i’m older and wiser. just trust me on this.”

“i trusted you when you said there was no way for yaga to find out.”

“okay…” satoru licks his lips. “so i make one mistake.”

you glare at him. “one?”

he grins. “at least if we get expelled, we’ll be expelled together.”

“are you kidding? me and one of the three special grade sorcerers? you’ll get a slap on the wrist.”

satoru contemplates this for a moment, and you suddenly realize that he looks.. tired. did he stay up just to entertain you? should you feel bad for getting him in trouble because he wanted to make you feel better? should you care about him at all?

he taps at his chin, another smile breaking his face. “you bring up a good point. i’ll just threaten yaga if he tries to kick you out.”

you groan, rubbing your eyes, deciding you don’t care if he’s tired or not. “i genuinely don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”

“well, it’s—“

and then the classroom door opens.

both of you sit up—because despite whatever satoru might say, you know he’s just feigning nonchalance. if anything, he’s at least dreading a lecture.

its just instinctual when you open your mouth, really.

“it’s all gojo’s fault—“

“she’s the one who crashed the car—“

you both turn to each other simultaneously, words clashing into one another.

satoru frowns and you point a finger at him. “it’s called parking you asshole—“

and, okay. maybe its a little bit your fault.

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atyourmerci · 9 months ago

Text

† Corruption †

Read pt.1 here

†

Summary: After that fateful night when Abby stumbled into your room and began her demise, she follows you into the showers to reconcile her sins

Warnings: smut, MDNI, switch!abby!?!?, switch!reader, heavy religion play indisone, fnv, cunnilingus, dirty talk yurrrr, no use of y/n

A/N: sorry this took 4ever I just really wanted to get this right and I still don’t love it but I must feed my babies. I mightttttt make a pt.3 that’s up to yall but either way I’m going to work on some other stuff so please send in recs!! (Also I know hotels don’t have communal showers just shut up and enjoy the porn:)))

†

Your vision went blurry, plunging you into a coma that kept your breathing synchronized until you couldn’t remember anymore. Maybe all the heavy breathing took you out, maybe God was retaliating at your corruption of his loyal follower. Either way- it was a good way to go out.

When you woke up, severely late at that, there was no sight of Abby, she was gone like the wind. In any normal case, that was what you preferred. The useless banter, awkward cuddling and sentiments were far beyond you. But this felt different- she- was different. Not in a way that you couldn’t have her, an unforbidden love tragedy, but in a way that she altered every being in you. She fucked everything you knew.

Days went by with no interaction; you both avoided each other like the plague. She probably condemned herself the moment she left; fuck she was already in suit of redemption mid orgasm. You avoided her because you knew you couldn’t stop yourself. This wasn’t her way of life- it was yours. Sure, she initiated it, but you reveled in it, got off on it, desired more.

Your thoughts were selfish, self-indulgent, downright merciless. While your days were spent avoiding your unrequited love, your nights had grown breathless as your hand was shoved deep into your panties trying to get yourself off to thoughts of Abby, to no avail. It felt like your karma for fucking God’s favorite devotee. You wished she would hear your aimless attempt, swoop in and return your favor. But she never did, of course she didn’t, she feared her own fucking reflection.

After a week of thoughtless days and sleepless nights you decided to shove the night as far back as possible, stop ruminating on the idea of her. That’s all that night was, a desperate idea of what she could be without moral. That wasn’t the Abby anyone knew, and neither did she.

Friday was terrible, there was an attack at the camp and a few soldiers were pretty bad off. Since you were the only medic, you were tasked with treating multiple injuries at once, scaling them at the urgency of attention. In a sick way, you hoped Abby was hurt. You wished you could have tended to her, even in that light, any way you could get your hands on her.

The only sight of Abby was her bringing in wounded soldiers’ bridal style into your med tent. When she first arrived, it was the first words either of you had spoken in a week, only for her to bark at you about the incident and return with additional members. After she had carried all of them in, she stood and watched you tend to them for a second before you aggressively whipped back to her with a, “I got it, stop breathing down my neck.”

You weren’t trying to be harsh with her, but the last thing you needed was her presence in the wake of this monstrosity. She had already clouded your every thought, and this was not the time to finally have her at the tips of your fingers again.

After hours of stitching, compacting, and amputating wounds you were spent. Blood trailed up and down your body, caked in sweat and dirt. You were barely mobile at this point, but the thought of going to bed decorated with the blood of your friends was unnerving.

You set off to the communal showers in the middle of the rundown hotel, it was so late at this point that you were guaranteed a peaceful shower uninterrupted by any needy suitors. You removed your blood adorned clothes, dropping them to the cold white tiled floor and started the rusty shower head.

The hot water drowns your skin as blood and dirt trail down your body into the drain, you let it soak in your tired flesh as you let the day out of you. You let your fingers run through your tangled hair when you hear a creak of the door open, causing a heavy sigh to linger out of your breath.

The last thing you wanted to do was having to entertain the presence of someone else so you decided to ignore the rustling, continuing to wash through your dirty locks.

Your peace was faltered as you left a breath coming from behind your neck, heavy in almost a pant. You feel strong hands whip you around to face your attacker, and shoved into the cold back tile of the wall sending you into a gasp. Abby stood before you, already stripped of her clothing, the water fell in between your bodies and into your open mouths.

Her hands still gripped at your waist, “touch me and don’t make a fucking sound,” she aggressively whispers low enough so no one could hear, as if it wasn’t the middle of the night, or that the water wouldn’t muffle out any noise, maybe she was that scared of being caught.

“Abby if you think this-“you begin to protest when she cuts you off by pulling you in by your waist to kiss you like a woman starved. It had only been a few days, but she gripped onto you like it had been years, years since she let herself go out of morality. You wanted to stop yourself, tell her you wouldn’t live this lie for her, but your body had a different agenda, it ached for her touch, anything she would give you.

She pulls away from you to simple mutter out a “please,” and you were convinced. It was like a parasite had wormed its way into you, you had gotten just as starved as she was. Without a beat you sunk to your knees as the water flooded your vision, the only sight was her sticky floods pooling between her muscley thighs. You attacked her pussy with your lips spewing a guttural moan out of her lips, she gripped onto your soaked hair for leverage. Her grip on your hair was almost painful but you couldn’t stop lapping her slick into your needy tongue to stop her.

Abby was already shaking from the overstimulation, you couldn’t pace yourself, you needed her to cum for your own validation, to know how much she needed you. Even if she never touched you, you were still fulfilled by the act. “F- fingers pl-ease” she says muffled by the water drenching you. You turn up to watch her plead tongue still deep into her slit, mascara running down your face as the water pelleted your eyes.

“D-ont look at me like th- this,” her mouth agape, she looked like she was crying, maybe she was, maybe it was the hot steam. You run a fat strip from her leaky hole up to her clit never leaving her gaze, she couldn’t look away and neither would you. “What are you going to do if I don’t Anderson?” You say with a cocky smirk and drive your tongue deep into her cunt again making her shake.

With an angered grunt you feel your hair being pulled up so that you’re back to your feet, you let out a wince from the pain before she throws you back onto the tiles, this time you had been too worked up to feel the chill of them on your skin. She places her left hand onto the titles next to your head, the veins in her arms bulging from using them to pull all of your body weight by your hair.

Her chest is flesh with yours that you can feel your bodies breath’s heave back and forth, eyes drilling into each other. “Fingers.” She demands. You didn’t realize you were so in shock by her aggression your hands were pinned at your sides, you moved them down her chest slowly, feeling every chiseled-out crevasse on her. Her breath only becomes more rapid as you draw your fingers closer to her aching cunt.

She whimpers out a “fuck,” as your fingers reattach to her clit, rubbing slow enough to relieve the pain but not enough to get her off. You watch as her head finally drops, and her arm shakes next to your head. Her cross was laid messily on her chest, flipped backwards, you hold back laughter as you think to yourself how God couldn’t watch this right now.

“You like getting fucked by a girl huh Anderson?” You dip your head closer so that you’re in her ear now, “you touch your little pussy every night since I made you cum, yeah?” You taunt and tease her as she whimpers into your ear. “St-op it,” she begs with her head nuzzled into the crook of your neck in a way to almost hide herself.

“Its okay baby, tell me how much you like getting fucked like a godless whore,” you start to circle her clit harder and faster so you can watch how much she likes it. All she can spit out in return is a desperate “fuckkkk,” and you know you’ve broken her. “D- don’t let me cum- I- I don’t deserve it,” she moves her head so you can see her now and begins panting on your lips.

“oh no Im going to enjoy watching you break again,” you say back with a wide grin, reveling in her desperation. You’re ready to dip your fingers into her dripping folds when you feel her free hand travel up your thigh. Her hand finally meets your cunt and she grips it harshly causing you to buck your hips into it.

“A- abby what are you d-doing?” Every emotion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Why was she touching you? This wasn’t her thing, not her job, that was your job. Would you be able to stop her? Control yourself? Let her have you? Why did she feel so fucking good when she was barely touching you?

She continues pulsing her palm into your aching cunt, “just let me try,” she breathes out against your soaked lips. Your fingers begin faltering at her clit, you try continuing your pace but it slows as her palm rubs against you.

She follows your lead by tracing her thick fingers through your slick folds, you bite down on your bottom lip to hold back from exposing yourself. When she begins circling your clit you can’t help but to whimper a choked out, “fuck just like that,” she was doing so well already.

She seemed pleased by her work, letting out a moan that followed your own. She was getting off on your pleasure instead of her own at this point.

You are barely able to keep your pace on her clit anymore, so engulfed by the feeling of her rough fingers on your swollen clit. She removes her fingers from your clit to move your hand off of her own clit, moving it so your palm lay against her chest.

She returns her fingers back so that only you are being pleased by her. You couldn’t believe that this was the first time she had done it, she felt like she was made to touch you, circling your bud like it would bring her to salvation.

Words were barely at the forefront of your mind at this point but you needed to ask her, “di- did you do all of- fuckkkk- ju- just to fuck me?”

She pierces her bright blue eyes into yours to make herself clear, “I worship you,” she says as she dips her long, thick ring and middle fingers deep into your cunt, immediately inching your g spot. The palm of her hand grazing your clit to give just enough friction.

All you can muster up to respond with is a guttural scream that rips through you, causing to use the hand that was placed on the wall to cover your mouth quickly. “Shhhh pretty girl I know I know,” she coos.

You bring her fingers into your mouth for leverage, anything to keep you from losing all control. Her pace quickens as she feels your walls clenching around her dripping fingers. How the fuck does she know you’re close.

As you begin nearing your climax, your mind runs free from all morality, she begin corrupting you just the same, driving out what you knew and replacing it with only her.

You didn’t even know you were doing it, not until she moved her fingers out of your mouth to understand you, “abbyabbyabbyabbyabby” with your eyes rolled, head slack on the tiles you begin worshiping her, praising her ever being like a mantra.

What brought you back to consciousness was the heavy breath and the ringing of your own name in a mantra beside your ear. You had never repented before, but she had begun her reconciliation along with you. If this were to be your religion, you’d give into her over and over again. At your knees to serve her, punished at your wrong doings and give penance for your sins.

“Serve me with your completion, give your god what she deserves,” she demands. You couldn’t disobey your savior, she showed your needy body mercy, and you must obey her.

It all hits you like a wave, all you can see is white as your body trembles under her. You can’t recall screaming but she moves her hand over your mouth. Your entire body shakes as she rides you over your high, kissing your forehead as you bite into her fingers, never letting up on her pace until she knows you can’t take it anymore.

As all of your limbs give out she slowly moves her fingers out of your abused pussy, picking you up before you fall straight into the hard tiles. She gently places you onto the tiles in front of her, holding you by your waist as the water floods from above you.

You try to mumble out something but she stops you with a quick “shhh I’m going to take care of you,” as she begins to wash out your hair gently. You lean your head into the crook of her neck and she lays peppered kisses from your shoulder to your neck.

“Please don’t run off again…” you muster up as she threads her fingers through your hair, “you’re all I know.”

“You’re all I have.”

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson2

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #sub abby

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cheolhub · 2 years ago

Text

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.”

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?”

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you.

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!”

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him.

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan.

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures.

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry.

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true.

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock.

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can.

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend.

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day.

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did.

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic.

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least.

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it.

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much.

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants.

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you.

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core.

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle.

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic.

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve.

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction.

you want him. you… want him.

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars.

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time.

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt.

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately.

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other.

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought.

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist.

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him.

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above.

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything.

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily.

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth.

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds.

“you’re so wet.” he hisses.

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.”

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering.

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’”

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks.

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock.

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there.

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died.

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow.

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you.

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him.

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him.

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.”

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again.

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest.

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest.

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into.

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers.

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him.

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it.

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly.

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised.

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight.

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you.

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them.

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him.

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?”

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer.

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing.

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out.

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum.

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release.

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs.

“hey,” he whispers.

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face.

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.”

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?”

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.”

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?”

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

#vernon smut #hansol smut #vernon x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut

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kjupchurch-xx · 3 months ago

Text

Conflicting Feelings Part 7

June 16th, 2024

It was the last day of filming Deadpool & Wolverine. Ryan and Hugh talked me into stealing my Deadpool suit from the set. Ryan is notorious for stealing his each movie. Hugh decided to be a decent human being and not participate in our antics. Filming was an exciting experience. I didn't participate in much of the press as I wasn't a main character, but my little extra part was fun to film.

To celebrate the end of filming, Ryan and Blake suggested we go out to a wrap party that was hosted by Shawn Levy in Los Angeles. There would be a dance floor, fancy catering, and open bar and music. Hugh and I had now been dating for nine months. Things were going phenomenal and I'm finally seeing him without the mutton chops or old man beard. I loved fresh faced Hugh. With that being said, the press had a frenzy when it was confirmed that Hugh Jackman had a new love interest, especially one that's much younger than he is.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, deciding to go casual for the party, like everyone else. I double checked my jeans and had on my favorite band t-shirt. I straightened my hair, applying black makeup to my eyes giving a smoky look. Hugh also went casual, with jeans and a polo. He came up behind me, kissing my cheek, "Almost ready, love?" He asked sweetly.

I nodded, smiling at him through the mirror, "Whenever you are. I figured wearing the suit probably wasn't a good idea." I said chuckling.

He giggled, "Probably not. I wish they would've let you be Wolverine's variant or even his girlfriend rather than seeing you as Deadpool, but you do look sexy in the suit."

I giggled, spinning around to kiss him as I stood on my tip toes to reach his lips. "Let's go."

We walked hand in hand out of Ryan and Blake's guest house, getting in the car where Ryan and Blake had been waiting on us. Ryan looked, sighing, "Finally. Can you two please stop fucking for like an hour so we can actually show up on time for once?" He jokingly said with a a straight face.

I smirked, "Would it kill you to shut the fuck up sometimes?"

He shook his head, pursing his lips in, "Actually no. I'm literally dead inside, so there's nothing left."

Hugh laughed, "I don't see how Blake puts up with you, mate."

Blake smiled, "It's in the contract. I've only got about 3 more years before I can marry Ryan Gosling."

The car erupted in laughter as we drove to the event. The car ride was about 20 minutes long, thanks to the traffic. It was full of small talk, sarcastic comments and horrible singing. As we arrived to the party, we could hear the base from inside. Hugh grabbed my arm, leading me into the building. As we walked in, we were all greeted by the cast of the movie, along with a few other big name Hollywood celebs.

We casually made small talk and rubbed shoulders with Dwayne Johnson, Zendaya, Zac Efron and a few others while snapping selfies for our Instagram accounts. Hugh and I weren't shy with PDA, but kept it classy. That is...until the drinks started.

We were snuggled up to one another on the couch when Taylor Swift's Karma began blaring through the speakers. I jumped up grabbing Hugh's hand, "Come on baby, I love this song!" I yelled over the music.

He laughed at me, "Steady, you're drunk, beautiful." He said, getting up to join me on the dance floor as I sloppily yelled the words to the song, dancing with him as he danced along giggling at me.

He pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, "How much have you had to drink, love?" He asked, smirking down at me.

I shrugged, "I dunno, baby. When you were with Dwayne, Zac and I took a few shots." I giggled, covering my mouth as if I'd just let the biggest secret in the world slip.

He chuckled, "I can tell."

I smirked as my favorite part of the song came on, pointing at him while singing it horribly, "Karma is the guy on the screeeeen, coming straight home to meeeeee!" before pulling him into a sloppy kiss, which made him laugh against my lips, attempting to kiss me back.

He picked me up bridal style, "Let's go sit down, silly."

I giggled, screaming as he surprised me with lifting me up, "Are we getting more drinks, Hughy?"

He shook his head, unable to stop laughing, "Absolutely not, love."

"Aw, you're no fun." I fake pouted.

"You're really showing your age, big guy." Ryan came up behind us, saying sarcastically.

"Mate, she's bloody tanked." Hugh responded, sitting me down on the chair.

Ryan smirked, "Me too, girlfriend." he said, winking at me.

Hugh shook his head at our antics, per usual. He'd have fun, but not too much fun. He was always the more responsible one in our friend group.

I went to stand up again as another song started all to be met with the room beginning to spin. "Hugh, Ryan, I'm gonna, I think I'm gonna-" I stammered before projectile vomiting on the floor.

"Party foul!" I heard Ryan and Zac drunkenly yell.

I quickly wiped my mouth and darted towards the bathroom with Hugh fast behind me on my heels, pushing the door open for me as I ran to the nearest toilet and began puking again.

"I am never drinking like this ever again." I said with a strained voice as he held my hair.

Hugh chuckled, "It's alright, love. You did drink a lot. I know you had two whiskeys, then whatever shots you and Zac had."

I put my finger up towards him, "Goddamnit, I can fucking taste the Jagermeister again. Stop talking about the shots." I said, placing my head back down towards the toilet bowl trying to contain myself.

He held my hair and rubbed my back soothingly, "Do you need a water or anything?'

"I love you." I stammered, completely ignoring his question.

He smiled, "I love you too, baby girl. Do you need anything?" He asked lovingly.

"If she called you, would you go back to her?" I asked.

He looked at me, furrowing his brows, "Who?" He asked.

I narrowed my eyes, "Deb. The woman you were married to for 27 years."

He looked at me for a moment, "Baby, Deb is gone. Her and I had a great go, but it didn't end well."

I rolled my eyes, drunkenly starting to tear up, "But if she called, would you!?" I said, raising my voice.

His voice was stern, "No, I wouldn't." Noticing the tears in my eyes, his voice softened, "I'm yours, sweetheart. I'm all yours. You have nothing to worry about, I promise."

I sat back leaning my head against his chest as he ran his fingers through my now messy hair, "I'm holding your hair as you vomit into a toilet. I'm not going anywhere. I am so in love with you, beautiful. Deb's moved on, I wish her the best, but I've also moved on."

I looked up as if I were a small child asking an adult for the truth, "You swear?" I looked at him with sad eyes.

He nodded, kissing my forehead, "I swear. Let's go back to Ryan's and clean up." He said, standing, helping me to get my bearings back.

As we walked through the area everyone was hanging out, I noticed the vomit had been cleaned up. Ryan and Zac ran up to me checking on me, as Hugh told them we were heading back so I could sober up, clean up and lay down. We said our goodbyes as Blake and Ryan joined us to head out. I rested my head on Hugh's lap in the backseat as we made the 15 minute commute back to Ryan and Blake's house.

Once we made it back to their house, Hugh helped me into the house and up the stairs. He helped me shower, washing my hair and helping me with washing my body. He watched me as I brushed my teeth. "You good, love?" He asked, leaning against the doorway.

I nodded, "I'm good. I've sobered up a bit now." I chuckled, setting the toothbrush back on the sink before gargling with mouthwash.

Removing my towel, I changed into one of Hugh's t-shirts and some sweats. I saw him lay in bed, in his boxers as I made my way over, scooting into bed beside him. He opened his arms to me as I slid over, resting my head on his chest, placing my hand on his abdomen.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to be back in Ryan Reynold's bed." I said sarcastically.

He chuckled, "You feeling better?"

I nodded, closing my eyes, "Much." I yawned, inhaling the scent of his body wash.

He kissed my head, "Good. Get some sleep, baby." He smiled, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off.

Days had gone by since we had our wrap party. That next morning, I'd woken up hungover as hell, still sick. I didn't think anything of it since I had drank so much, but as the days went on and the sickness continued, I started to grow anxious and extremely paranoid. We were now back in New York City, back home. I sub-rented my condo considering we spent months in LA and there was no point in continuing to pay rent somewhere I wasn't staying. Considering I had a tenant, Hugh told me to move into his house.

Hugh was out on his morning bike ride as I stood in the bathroom staring at my phone. I was completely at a loss. I decided to pick up the phone and call Ryan. He and Blake were back home in New York, letting their rental in LA go as we'd wrapped filming.

"What's up, baby child?" His voice yelled through the phone.

Baby Child was something Ryan annoyingly called me considering I was the youngest of the group. I was 26, Blake was 36, Ryan was 47 and Hugh was 55, so I was 'Baby Child'. Cue the eye roll.

I chuckled, "Are you with Hugh?" I asked.

"Nope. He's not here." He simply said. "Why, what's up?" He asked, curiously.

I sighed, "I've got something to tell you."

His voice got serious, which was unlike him, "Is everything okay?" He asked, growing concerned.

I took a deep breath, "I'm pregnant."

He gasped, "What? You mean to tell me that old fucker's swimmers still swim?!" He exclaimed.

I laughed, "That's seriously your reaction?"

He chuckled, "Why do you not sound happy about this?" He asked.

I shrugged, as I walked into the living room window that overlooked the city, "Because I'm not." I said with a sigh.

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butteronabun · 7 days ago

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“I heard Kaeya and the others are going to join.”

“What costume are you going to wear?”

“Are you going to participate this Halloween?”

Amidst all these questions, Diluc still doesn’t lift his head from the paperwork. You take notice of this. It doesn’t really mind you, because you know how he is - dedicated to his job and takes it seriously. But despite that, you know he’s listening, even if it’s about trivial matters.

Him already paying attention — even if he isn’t facing you — is already enough, you think. ( But you also know that you shouldn’t be lying to yourself. )

“Diluc?”

“No.” is his reply.

You pout at that. “Why not?”

“I’m not interested,” He says, and turns to another paper before signing it. “And I have a bar to run. At this time of the year, it’s going to be busy.”

The bar is always busy, though, your mind supplies. But he’s right. Angel’s Share is definitely going to be a hotspot for Mondstadt, especially this spooky month. “I’ve already seen the spooky decorations in your tavern, and you not wearing anything just defeats the purpose of Halloween.” You gasp in mock horror. “Oh no. . . the bartender is just going to wear his regular bartender suit!”

“Yeah.”

You huff. What a kill-joy! Now this ruins your plans. You’ve talked to the maids before this conversation—how you’ve wanted to see him enjoy this event, by wearing silly costumes or even consuming candies together. They also did agree that the illustrious Master Diluc deserves a bit of fun.

Plus, as much as you adore his bartending outfit—it’s damn Halloween!

Then, an idea pops into your head.

“Ah. Diluc.”

“Hm?”

You hesitate—should you really say this? Yeah, you shouldn’t. You should.

You cough. “Should I. . . dress up as a grape?”

Now this. This, you notice, really, really gets his full attention. He finally puts his paper down, and looks at you. He is incredulous, and you suppress the urge to grin. “. . .What?”

“You know, grapes. Your favorite fruit,” You make sure to emphasize, fully knowing what you’re aiming for. All for this to acquire something special—piquing Diluc’s interest. Piquing Diluc’s curiosity.

Diluc stares.

You stare back.

This is so hard. You have to control yourself or you’ll laugh. Will he buy it?

The man frowns. The man frowns, deeply.

“You— you’ll look. . .” Diluc is obviously struggling to form his words. The man is contemplating, probably making sure to say the right thing. You bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles—you already know what he’s gonna say. Ridiculous. He’s gonna say you’ll look ridiculous! Because like hell you’re gonna wear something like that.

“You’ll look delectable.”

Silence lingers in the air.

You sheepishly laugh. “I - I was joking.”

“And I’m not.”

Your eyes grow wide at that. You’re now the one who can’t believe what YOU are hearing. “You’re kidding.”

“And I’m not.” He stands up, papers now forgotten, and you flinch—oh archons, no way he’s— he’s actually approaching you. Diluc’s actually approaching you!

You step backward, lifting a hand to stop him in a panic. “W - W - Wait, Diluc— what are you—“

“The prospect of my lover wearing something flashy such as delicious fruits and the like this season has a low chance, but never zero,” You don’t know where he’s going with this, and it scares you. Maybe this is the real spooky thing. You shouldn’t have pranked Hilie and Moco last night by rattling the chairs again.

This is your karma.

“D-Diluc?” You take another step backward, before your back hits something hard, and you yelp. You’re not sure what it is? A table? A drawer? The wall? You can’t tell. All you can see is how Diluc gazes at you intensely.

“But really. As grapes? I say that you’re only up to your ‘absurd marketing tactics’ again, but. . .” Diluc stops in front of you, and he’s close enough for you to catch a whiff of his scent.

(You gulp.)

A small smile makes its way to his handsome features. “This is a bit bold of you, love.”

Yes. You know of the consequences - you know its implications. Diluc’s significant other dressing up as a cluster of grapes! The old ladies and the maids will definitely have a field day! But your lover? Who likes eating grapes?

Oh, you pulled a risky move.

And Diluc’s just playing your game.

“I was just kidding,” you mutter, as you look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn’t even see this coming—how your ruse will get you so far.

Diluc grabs your chin with his thumb and index finger, and gently turns your head so you can face him again. “I know.”

“. . .Ok.” You attempt to change the topic. “Join me for Halloween, then.”

“But aren’t I already? I promised that I’ll be giving out candies to the children with you.”

“That’s not enough,” You whine. “You’re not wearing any ‘stume.”

“‘Stume?” Diluc’s smile widens, amused.

“Short for costume.”

Diluc sighs through his nose. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

You lit up a little. “Really? You’ll do it for me?”

“Of course,” He leans in, and tenderly pecks your lips. Your chest swells with warmth. “For you.”

You manage to contain your squeals. Oh, your dream is going to come true. You should prepare and head to your maids immediately! Diluc says that he’s going to think about it? Nonsense. He’s already agreed, even if he said he’ll think about it. So it’s game on!

“Though. . . on one condition.”

You lift a brow at this. “Huh?”

“You’re gonna wear the grape costume you’ve mentioned.”

You feel yourself crack slowly. “Diluc. No.”

Diluc cups your jaw, his eyes lowering halfway. “I guess we don’t have a deal, then.”

“DILUC? I’ll look stupid in there!”

“Not in my eyes,” He kisses you once more. “I think you’ll look endearing.”

“NO!”

#diluc x reader #HAPPY HALLOWEEN #idk what this was #LMAO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#diluc is one step forward it seems 🤷🏻‍♀️#note to self. don’t joke around diluc anymore because he’ll take you seriously #or make you eat ur words

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shiftingdiariesofophelia · 1 year ago

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i spend so much energy trying to make/find fun creative things to add to my scripts and i’m not gonna gatekeep, so here’s some of the funniest/weirdest/lowkey best things i’ve added to any of my scripts (that I haven’t talked much about before):

-I can always find things I need.

-Santa is real

-People just??? trust me??? I could genuinely tell someone that world war two was between the australians and canadians and they’d just be like yeah that checks out

-I don’t have allergies bc i hate sneezing

-Every pair of shoes I own are comfy as hell

-My hair can’t get knotted/tangled

-no periods because f that for real

-I always win/I’m naturally good at card and board games.

-Babies/Animals like me and will stop crying/whining/etc. when i’m around.

-cigarettes taste good and aren’t bad for you. i wanna be lana del rey coded so bad i guess

-i will literally never be in a situation where i have to kill someone. (useful for more dangerous drs!!!)

-random beef with the funniest character imaginable. hp dr? me and susan bones are arch enemies. fame dr? me and pete davidson indirect tweet each other all the time complaining. avengers dr? me and the ancient one are fist fighting in the mirror dimension idc

-indestructible things. i am clumsy and stupid i need this in every dr.

-pages don’t rip out of notebooks on accident (this has been the bane of my existence since 9 years old)

-I always have a hair tie when i need one. because you think you won’t need one, and then the second you don’t have it, you need it.

-people don’t smell. lifesaver.

-*random character* knows i shifted but can’t do a goddamn thing about it/doesn’t care and just goes with it. my favorite examples are Shane Dawson (fame dr) and Professor Trelawny (HP dr)

-i can’t get hurt in stupid ways (stubbing toe, tripping, etc.)

-if someone tries to shoot me the gun will literally fly out of their hand lmao (again, useful for dangerous drs)

-i know everyone’s phone passwords

-infinite toilet paper (for dystopia/woods/etc. drs, but could just be useful every day tbh.)

-i’ve always got some kind of out of pocket one liner for when the situation is too awkward

-tattoos don’t hurt (i am a pussy)

-adding random side characters/completely new mfers to my scripts because if i’m constantly around these fine ass bitches i know everything about i might actually have a heart attack

-when someone’s mean to me they get some form of karma in the next 24 hours directly related to how mean they were. call me stupid? enjoy tripping up the stairs. push me over? i hope you enjoy biting into a sandwich only to find the bread is moldy.

there’s probably more but this is just a short list of the first ones i could think of

#shifting #reality shifting #shifttok #shiftblr #desired reality #ophie speaks #current reality #hp shifting #harry potter dr #shut up ophie

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heavyhitterheaux · 5 months ago

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Best Friend's Boyfriend (NSFW)

Synopsis: You and Jack run in the same circle of friends, and you both have feelings for each other but are scared to admit them. Your best friend knows how much you like him and swears that he doesn't like you back. Instead of helping you to ask Jack out on a date, she starts to date him all in a plan to make you jealous. But you get the last laugh in the end.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Best Friend!Reader

Requested by: an amazing anon 💕

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

A sigh escaped your lips as you took another swig of your drink and looked over to your left and rolled your eyes.

She was all over him.

Again.

Her being your “friend” Skylar.

Him being one of your close friends, Jack.

You and Jack had been friends since you met in middle school at the age of eleven and you didn't meet Skylar until you moved to Atlanta with Jack.

Your entire group of friends decided to spend a week in Denver staying at an expensive top of the line cabin since it had been awhile since you all had seen one another.

Well since they had seen you.

In the back of your mind, you were debating on if you were going to leave and cut your trip short because you weren't quite sure how much more you could take.

Recently, you and Skylar had spent some time together when you confessed to her in confidence that you saw Jack more than a friend, but you weren't quite sure if he felt the same way towards you.

So what did she do?

Go out on a date with him despite your feelings and they had been together for the past two months.

After that occurred, you distanced yourself from the both of them and when Jack would try to invite you somewhere, you steadily declined. He had been missing you and was very excited when you said yes when he asked you to come to Denver.

However, the only reason that you agreed was because you had been told Skylar would not be in attendance. So when you arrived, you immediately wanted to walk back out the door and go home.

Even though she was all over him, Jack looked uninterested, but your thoughts were interrupted by Urban coming to sit next to you. Besides Skylar, he was the only one who knew how you felt about Jack.

Urban had told you time and time again to tell him, but being as shy as you were, you decided against it.

“You okay? If I would’ve known…”

“It's fine, Urby. Don't worry about it. Just have to make the best of it I guess.” You replied while shrugging.

“If it makes you feel any better, Jack is not as interested in her as she thinks he is. Probably won't last too much longer.”

“But it’s the fact that she calls herself my friend and then goes behind my back and….”

Urban immediately cut you off.

“She's not your friend. Friends don't do what she did.”

“I have a feeling that she used me to get to him. Urban, you know I’m quiet and wouldn't harm a fly. She took advantage of that.” You confessed as you poured yourself another glass of some wine that Jack had bought for you since he knew red was your favorite. It was a new brand that you had never tried before.

“I know, but karma's a bitch. She’ll get hers.”

“And it seems as if she doesn't care. She acts like nothing happened between us. How? How can she do that? I told her how I felt and…”

“Tell him how you feel. That's who matters in all this anyway.” Your eyes went wide at Urban's suggestion and you quickly shook your head no.

“I guarantee you that it will go better than you think. He really misses you.”

Before you could have a chance to respond, Jack made his way over to the both of you and picked you up and brought you into a hug.

Urban simply smirked as he looked behind you and Jack to see Skylar rolling her eyes at the scene in front of her.

The one thing that Urban didn't tell you was the fact that Jack liked you as well. Jack thought the feelings weren't reciprocated and when Skylar approached him to ask him out on a date, he figured why not?

Even though he had been around her for a few years because of you two being friends, he didn't notice that something was off until he had spent more time with her when it was just the two of them. He often talked about you, but all Skylar would do is talk down about you and that was one thing he put a stop to immediately.

He didn't know why he kept her around for so long, but quickly made a decision that when this trip was over, he was done with her. He had a feeling that was why you would decline when he asked you to hang out with him. He also noticed how the two of you seemed to have drifted apart within the last year, and not just recently.

However, Urban didn't like her from the moment you introduced her to them.

“I missed you.” Jack said as he whispered in your ear before hugging you tighter and you immediately melted into his arms.

“I missed you too, bubs.”

“I have you for an entire week and I'm definitely taking advantage of it. Did you like the wine I got for you? I know red is your favorite and my mom said that you might like it.”

“It's really good and I'm definitely getting a few bottles when we get back home. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Always.” Jack said as his hands rested on your waist and he quickly reached up and poked your nose making you laugh.

A minute later Sunni and Cope came through the front door with bags of food since no one had wanted to cook when you all had gotten there and set them on the counter in the kitchen. All of you decided to simply relax the first night and then do different things around Denver for the remainder of the time that you were there.

“Finally! I'm starving!” Exclaimed Urban who was hot on their trail.

You and Jack laughed and it looked like he wanted to tell you something before Skylar had called his name.

One thing you did notice was him sighing when she did it, wondering what that was about.

“Babe! Can you fix my plate and bring it to me!?”

“Sure.” Jack said quietly, but he still had his eyes on you.

“We’ll continue this later.” He said as he leaned down to whisper it and you immediately nodded.

—

“What movie are we watching?” You asked as everyone had gotten their food and made their way back into the living room.

“Y/N! Come and sit by me.” Skylar piped up and said and you looked at her confused. Jack was hoping that you would say yes while Urban stifled a laugh once he saw the look on your face.

“Sorry, Urban already asked me.” You answered without missing a beat and going to sit next to him.

“The Nun!” Cope suggested and you knew for a fact that you would probably have to sleep in Urban's room if everyone agreed on that.

“I’m not watching any scary shit. Next.” Sunni said and Cope rolled his eyes.

“Bad Boys 3! The next one is coming out in a few months.” Jack said as he was scrolling through his phone.

“I still can't believe he slapped Chris Rock.”

“I don't see how anyone finds him funny anyway.” You said remembering all the movies that you had seen him in.

You had fallen asleep during every single one.

“I second that. When it first happened, I thought it was a joke.”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

Jack glanced over at Skylar who was now downing another wine cooler and he noticed that she hadn't stopped drinking since they had gotten there earlier in the day.

“Uhh Skylar, do you want me to get you some water?” He asked concerned and she quickly turned up her nose at him.

“For what? If I wanted it, I would have gotten it.”

“I was just asking.” Jack replied as he held his hands up in defense and you quickly rolled your eyes.

One thing Skylar could not do was hold her liquor. It would go one of two ways, her crying and throwing up, or her being knocked out for hours. You were hoping it was the latter so you would be able to have Jack to yourself for a while.

—

The movie had finally ended and Skylar having gotten drunk off her ass was now passed out on the couch which you weren't surprised by. However, you were caught off guard when Jack asked you to help take her upstairs.

“Um, sure.”

You weren't quite sure exactly what you were helping with since Jack could easily carry her but said yes anyway.

He told you to go first up the steps as he slung Skylar easily over his shoulder. You couldn't wait to go to sleep yourself in the hopes of tomorrow being a better day for you.

All Jack did was lay her on the bed and once you turned around to leave, he caught your hand.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah? What's wrong?” You asked after growing suddenly concerned.

Jack held your hand for a few minutes before opening his mouth and responding to you.

“I… should have never said yes to going on a date with her when I knew that you were the person that I wanted. I didn't know if you felt the same way so the easiest thing to do was to distract myself.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest before it suddenly felt as if it had dropped down to your stomach.

“It wasn't supposed to be like this and I quickly learned that she only wants me because of what my name is attached to. I don't like her as a person at all. Now I see what Urb was talking about.”

“Jack….”

“Let me finish. You know she's a heavy sleeper and the last thing she is about to do is wake up. I've liked you since I met you but was entirely too scared to say anything.”

“I… I told Skylar how I felt about you and instead of helping me figure out a way to approach you about it, she goes and asks you out for herself. She continues to act like nothing happened as if we're still close but that was…. Friends don't do what she did.”

You felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest once everything was finally out in the open.

“So that's why you've been avoiding me for two months?” Jack asked as he pinched your cheek.

“I didn't want to, but I felt as if distance was best.”

You said as you shrugged.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Never do that again.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

You turned to walk away once more when Jack had suddenly stopped you and captured you in a kiss catching you off guard. You eagerly kissed him back and the two of you were in a full blown makeout session when Jack's hand snuck under your shirt. He smiled when he came to the realization that you weren't wearing a bra.

“I need this off of you.” He said as he massaged your left breast and kissed down your neck.

“But… she's right there.”

“So, what's your point babe? I know you want this just as much as I do. But just say the word if you want me to stop.”

Jack was met with silence and he easily got your shirt off in one swift movement as he laughed and kissed the shell of your ear.

“I didn't think so.”

Jack's hand quickly reached into your shorts and began to rub small circles along your clit and he simply smirked noticing how wet you were.

“Mmm, all of that for me, huh?” He asked as he moved his fingers up to his mouth to taste you.

All you could do was eagerly nod as he cupped your face to kiss you once more.

“You taste so good, but I want more. I need you to do something for me, pretty girl.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Go and lay on the bed.”

“I..”

“Keep quiet and don't make a sound because I’ll stop. Lay on the bed and I'm going to fuck you right next to her.”

Your adrenaline was pumping at the thought of getting caught, but the last thing you were going to tell Jack was no. Slipping off your shorts, you did as you were told as you noticed Skylar had rolled to the other side of the bed and let out a loud snore as Jack quickly undressed and began stroking himself while peering down at you making your mouth water.

Jack then climbed on top of you leaving a trail of kisses down your body until he got to your most prized possession and spread your legs apart and he took one long lick making you gasp.

“Shh, stay quiet for me. Look how pretty this pussy is.”

Your hand instantly went over your mouth in an attempt to keep quiet as Jack pleasured you. He then inserted two of his fingers as he sucked on your clit. A moan escaped your mouth for a quick second, but you quickly recovered in the hopes of not waking Skylar up.

“You taste so good, baby. I can't wait until you cum all over my face.”

Not trusting your voice because you knew the second your mouth opened that a moan would escape, you eagerly nodded your head as you started to roll your nipples in between your fingers as Jack continued to give you his undivided attention.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but Jack had made you release all over his face multiple times before you slowly felt him slide into you. The sensation made you gasp and he quickly kissed you to make sure you stayed quiet.

Your arms instantly went around his neck as he began to increase his pace. Jack had taken one of your nipples in his mouth when you felt Skylar move. You know Jack felt it too, but all he did was bite down which he knew was going to lead to you squirming. Once he lifted his head back up, he smirked at you before continuing to pound into you.

“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl.”

“Jack…” That was the first time you had moaned his name all night which quickly gave him an ego boost as it escaped from your lips.

“I’m…..”

“Close? Me too. Come on then, baby. Cum for me, cum all over this dick that's rightfully yours.”

That was all it took as you reached your peak with Jack then releasing all over your chest and stomach.

All that could be heard was heavy breathing as both of you were trying to catch your breath. Jack was still hovering over you and leaned down to kiss you as his fingers started to slowly rub small circles along your clit once more. He quickly heard your whimpers and smirked.

“Hmm, didn't take you for a girl who would fuck her best friend's boyfriend.”

“All she did was keep my spot warm until I could rightfully take my place. Now it's my turn. Lay down and let me ride you.” You said as you leaned up to kiss him.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fanfiction

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