#but like as i was writing this... man i was so indecisive
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the ambitious thought of: "what if I,, retold more of shadow 05, not just cryptic castle ?"
#bee blabs#bc the sky troops stage wld be interesting to cover too but-#can't get too ahead of myself#had a momentary flash of doing sumn like that for the sth big bang but... idk#(I always end up scaring myself out of participating in big events)#but I cld only do it under the condition that I have my cryptic castle one done#like- I'm having a lot of fun patching up the holes in 05 but idk whether anyone else cares abt that#I'll have a think on it but man. I'm so indecisive#and way too hard on myself as a creator#then again I might run into issues even if I did since all my writing content is on one space and the guidelines are Very Specific#well. fuck me.#I could just do shit out of my own volition but... eh#indecision is a killer
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Working on a fic still and laughing at these absolutely absurd conversations Bro and Dave have. But also lmao, Dennis from Game Bro with his broken thumb.
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They're so fucking dramatic, and oh my god I just realized this probably makes zero sense at all, out of context. Idk how to convey how hilarious this moment is to me, without the miles of words written beforehand. I just need to laugh about it publically lol.
#basically theyre pretending that dave is married with kids and cheating on them with bro at this theme park#but there is no wife and kids theyre just saying that to fuck with someone next to them#bro/dennis is unrequited unfortunately#man this fic is taking forever to write#if u saw the hohohomewrecker comic panel i did on xmas this is still the same fic#wip#homestuck#stridercest#i have no idea what my wordcount is at right now and honestly im scared to find out#the page numbers are for samsung notes not actual page lengths#i wish i had the courage to start posting chapters but i keep going back to edit singular words so its not practical to post anything..#..until the entire story is complete#Cori.exe#Post.exe#suggestive#also disclaimer this is subject to change lmao i am indecisive as fuck#just wanted to laugh about dave teasing bro about having a thing for the game bro dudes#god i already see like 3 things im gonna change but i need a break lmao#also since the subject is stridercest its already written into the intro that the thing dave jerks off to in privacy is bros live action p..#..orn which bro has pointedly kept away from dave but when u live with a ninja u learn to be sneaky and dave definitely dug it up#like the smuppets were fair game but bro made an actual effort to keep the irl stuff hidden and has no idea what daves actually seen
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leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you’ve decided to get intimate for the first time with your boyfriend, and who better to ask for advice than his best friend?
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, kissing, oral sex, vaginal fingering, masturbation, p in v, possessive sex, praise kink, cheating/infidelity
wc: 4.4k
a/n: i don't support cheating at all, this idea just would not leave me so erm... i just had to write it
also on ao3!
You might be a little in over your head.
Sure, the entire thing had been your idea, but now that you’re standing outside of Leon’s apartment, duffle bag clutched in hand, you think you might’ve made the wrong decision.
But… you did really like your boyfriend.
It was why you were doing all of this after all. You wanted the first time with your new boyfriend to be perfect, especially after your last relationship had practically turned out to be a disaster. The sex hadn’t been enjoyable and the heated conversations between you and your ex even more so.
So, who better to ask for advice than your boyfriend’s best friend?
Eyes squeezing shut, you mutter a few words of self-encouragement. The doorbell looks oddly ominous when you open your eyes again.
You weren’t even sure why Leon had agreed to this entire thing. He’d always just been there, barely acknowledging your presence at all. All in all, you were convinced Leon hated you. It didn’t matter though, you didn’t particularly like the man either. Leon was just an unfortunate addition to things you had to endure.
An irritated huff of air leaves you and your hand jerks out, your own body having grown tired of your indecisiveness. The doorbell rings promptly and you shift on your feet, biting your lip nervously.
When the door creaks open, you have half the mind to run away. Leon’s gaze keeps you pinned in place however, his bored eyes dipping over you, brows raising slightly when he sees the duffle bag you were holding.
“You were serious about this, huh?” Leon asks, crossing his arms over his chest, peering down at you.
“Uh- well,” you begin, tongue feeling heavy, “I- I can just leave,” you laugh awkwardly, “you’re probably busy and I don’t want to bother you and-”
“Stop rambling,” he interrupts, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice, “just get inside.”
You’re grateful for his timely intervention, nodding rapidly and stepping inside. Taking off your shoes, you place them by the door neatly, not wanting to annoy Leon even more. He motions with his fingers and you follow him in, letting him guide you into his bedroom.
“What’s the bag for?”
“Oh, I packed a couple of outfits,” you shrug, watching as he sits down on his chair, “thought you might be able to tell me which one would work the best.”
Leon stares at you blankly, his lips pursing.
“You’re fucking weird.”
A sharp scoff leaves you, your eyes narrowing as you glare at the man in front of you. “You agreed to help me!”
“I didn’t think you were being serious,” Leon retorts.
You glare at him a little more and he lets out an exasperated sigh, motioning for you to sit down on the edge of his bed. You do as he says, although your movements are begrudging, feeling miffed.
“So?” He asks, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, “what do you want to know?”
“Se- sex stuff,” you reply casually, although your posture betrays you. It’s difficult to feel comfortable around Leon, his gaze uncomfortably intense and probing. You don’t think you’ve ever sat with your back this straight for so long before.
“Watching porn would’ve solved that problem for you,” Leon says drily.
“You’re a real asshole, Leon.”
He rolls his eyes at your jab, slouching a little further in his chair, thighs spreading as he gets comfortable. Leon’s fingers tap against the arm-rest, seemingly lost in thought. You couldn’t feel anymore awkward, agitatedly playing with your fingers in your lap.
“Can’t you just tell me what he likes?” you blurt out, growing desperate, “you guys talk about that stuff, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Leon says, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Just do what feels natural. Sex isn’t supposed to be something you spend weeks worrying about.”
It’s surprisingly solid advice…but Leon could’ve told you all of this over text. You cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly.
“But what if he doesn’t like it?” you mumble, averting your gaze.
“Then he’ll tell you,” he says, hands clasping together. Leon gives you another once-over, tilting his head. “Go get changed, let’s see those outfits.”
You nod, tugging your bag into his bathroom and pull on your first outfit. It’s a pretty dress, flowy and a little short, but you’d figured it’d be a good pick.
“What do you think?”
Leon’s eyes flick up to meet yours, silently evaluating the dress. His brows furrow for a moment, something imperceptible passing through his eyes before he shakes his head. A sigh escapes you, but you disappear back into his bathroom obediently to pull on your next outfit.
Leon doesn’t like that one. He doesn’t like the one after either. Your patience is running thin by the time you’ve changed into your fourth outfit, a nice top and skirt. You tuck your hair behind your ears, staring at yourself in the mirror. You look cute, at least from your perspective. You don’t understand what he finds so unappealing about your sense of style. Leon’s eyes barely drift over you before he’s shaking his head again.
“Pass,” Leon drawls, looking bored out of his mind as he slouches in his chair. Irritation festers inside of you, teeth gritting together as Leon simply ignores you, scrolling through his phone.
“This is cute!” you protest, looking down at the outfit you put together, “I look cute!”
“If that makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that,” he replies, not sparing you a second glance.
“You’re the worst!” you snap, stomping back into the bathroom.
Your temper gets the best of you when you scrutinize your irritated reflection, cheeks flushed with anger, the stress of being here with Leon bubbling past your own breaking point. You tug your top off, along with your bra, bathroom door slamming open as you move to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.
“How about now, asshole?”
Leon’s eyes widen when he sees your bare chest, surprise making his grip on his phone falter, the device falling towards the carpeted floor as he stares at your tits. His jaw seems to go slack, a sharp breath of air getting sucked in as he stares for a bit longer. You glare at him, chest rising and falling, watching as his gaze dips over the curve of your waist.
“They’re just tits,” he says nonchalantly.
Leon’s expressions betray his true emotions, however. You catch the bob of his throat as he swallows, the subtle clench of his jaw as he stares at your tits. Your eyes dip down between his thighs and a small smile spreads across your face when you spot the bulge forming in his shorts.
“Do you like ‘em?” you ask, tilting your head.
“What?” Leon sputters, his cheeks flushing lightly.
“Do you like ‘em?” you repeat, taking a step closer, “my tits, Leon.”
He swallows again, trying and failing to look away from your tits. “They’re fine,” he manages out after a moment, “normal, or whatever.”
That makes a frown pull at your lips. Your head tips down, taking in your own breasts. They weren’t anything special, but you thought they looked nice, at least. Embarrassment has your skin crawling, cheeks heating up when you realize how stupidly you’ve been acting.
You move to turn on your heel, but Leon stops you, his hand curling around your wrist. He tugs you forward, your feet stumbling slightly as he pulls you until you're standing between his spread legs.
“Maybe I should feel them,” Leon offers, peering up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “might- might help me judge a bit better.”
Surprise flits across your face, heat shooting through your body. You really shouldn’t let him do this, you shouldn’t even have your tits out in the first place but when Leon’s hand lands on your waist, all rational thought seems to leave you.
“Okay,” you whisper, “you can touch.”
Both of Leon’s hands are on your waist now, sliding upwards. You bite your lip to stifle a whine, back arching to push your chest into his touch when his thumbs brush the underside of your breasts.
Leon lets out a low hum, stroking his thumb over the same place again, staring intently at your hardened nipples. His fingers reach for them, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he tugs lightly before letting go, watching as your breasts move at the sensation.
“Gonna let me taste ‘em too?,” he asks, pinching your nipples again before rubbing his thumbs over your areolas.
“T- taste?” you echo, feeling your breath catch in your throat when Leon leans forward, his touch growing greedier as he grasps at your tits, squeezing the fat roughly. Your legs shake slightly, little twitches running up through your body and Leon notices, pulling you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs as he helps you climb up onto his lap.
You can feel how hard he is when your cunt presses up against his clothed cock, a low whine slipping out of you at the feeling. Leon grins, squeezing your breasts a few more times, seemingly taken with tugging your nipples and watching your breasts bounce back into place.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, “just let me put my mouth on you, hm?”
A single nod leaves you and Leon takes it as permission to kiss the space between your breasts. He’s surprisingly gentle with you, peppering soft kisses around your breast and over your nipples. Leon’s tongue lolls out before long, a groan emanating from him as he pulls you flush against him, his hips bucking up into your clothed cunt.
You gasp, fingers settling in his hair, pulling his head closer. Leon’s mouth opens wider, sucking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking across your nipple harshly as he silently urges your hips to move against him. You do as he wants, grinding against his lap, mewling when he sinks his teeth into the fat of your tit. He switches his attention to your other tit, sucking it into his mouth, pressing his hand into your back to make your chest jut out so that he can get more of you into his mouth.
“Do oh- do you like my tits now, Leon?” you ask breathily.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” he mumbles out drunkenly, “love your tits, baby.”
A light flush covers your cheeks when Leon pulls away, both of your chests rising and falling. He stares up at you, perched on his lap prettily, his hands squeezing at your waist soothingly. Your hazy eyes dip down to his lips, fingers tightening into his shirt as you imagine his lips on yours.
That would make everything all the more real however, so you refrain, simply peering down at him. Leon can see the uncertainty that makes you squirm, the flash of guilt that seems to dim down the spark in your eyes. He doesn’t exactly like the situation either, what the two of you are doing, but when your lower lip juts out into a cute, little pout, Leon wonders what might’ve been if he’d gotten to you first.
“We should stop,” he says after a while, fingers tapping the sides of your thighs.
“Yeah,” you murmur, humiliation flitting across your face, “we should.”
Leon helps you get off his lap, smoothing his hand over the ruffles in your skirt. It’s a weirdly considerate action and too out of place for him. You disappear into the bathroom, pulling your top back on. Leon waits for you, his eyes dipping to the bulge in his shorts. It’s uncomfortable, his half-hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.
A heavy sigh leaves him, his hand reaching down to adjust himself before you come out.
“Thank you for letting me come over,” you mumble as he walks you over to his door.
“Don’t mention it,” Leon murmurs, his voice low.
Don’t mention it. You know deep down you won’t be mentioning anything to your boyfriend.
You go to open the door, but before you can, Leon’s stepping up behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he cages you in against the door. A soft whine spills out of you when he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.
“You’re making things difficult,” he says, voice muffled with how closely he’s pressed his face into your neck.
“I- I’m leaving,” you retort weakly, managing to get your hand on the doorknob.
He hums, pressing one of his hands against the door, keeping it shut.
“Leon,” you sigh exasperatedly, “we can’t. You’re the one who said we should stop.”
“If I hadn’t said that, would you have stayed?”
The question hangs in the air. Your silence is answer enough. Leon’s mouth on your tits had been more than enough to convince you to stay, the memory of his clothed cock pressed up against your panties making you bite back another whine. His hand has begun to slide to your leg, smoothing up over your skin and under your skirt.
“Tell me,” Leon coaxes, his fingers grazing your panties, “would you have stayed?”
A strangled gasp is your response as he presses the pads of his fingers up against your panties. Leon lets out a low laugh, landing a soft kiss to your neck, his fingers rubbing at your cunt through the fabric of your panties.
Your head tips forward, forehead pressing against the door and mouth opening in a silent moan when Leon rubs faster. He trails kisses down your neck before nuzzling into the crook of it, pressing you against the door harder to grind his cock into your ass.
“C’mon, baby,” he urges again, “I wanna hear you say it.”
“I- I hate you,” you grit out but you rock your hips across his hand anyways, wanting more friction against your pussy.
Leon clicks his tongue, drawing his fingers away.
“Ngh- nooo,” you whine, trying to get his hand back to where you want him to touch you, “Leon!”
It’s too late though, Leon’s already unlatched himself, taking a few steps back to put some space between you two. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, pursing his lips as he stares down at you.
“You’re a piece of shit, Leon.”
“You know, that makes me less inclined to want to touch you.”
“Fine,” you say, throwing your hands up, “I’ll just do it myself.”
“W- what?” Leon blurts out, gaze fixated on the sway of your hips as you push past him. He watches as you settle down onto his couch, your head tipping back as your hand disappears under your skirt and slips past the band of your panties.
A soft sigh escapes you when you touch yourself, eyes fluttering shut. You’re wet thanks to Leon, body squirming as your fingers circle your swollen clit to find some relief.
“Fuck,” Leon hisses, watching as you masturbate on his couch without a care in the world. His cock throbs painfully and he’s dropping to knees before he can stop himself, hands grabbing at your legs.
“No,” you glare at him when he tries to pull your panties down, swatting his hand away.
“Please?” he pleads, eyes darkened with lust, “baby, please? I- I just wanna see.”
“‘m not your baby,” you grouse, trying to shove his face away as your fingers slide through your slick folds.
“You could’ve been,” Leon mutters.
He looks a little bitter and you raise your brows in question. “You hate me.”
“No I don’t,” he replies, nuzzling into your knee, lips pressing against your skin in a gentle kiss, “I want you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you murmur, rolling your eyes when he manages to capture your wrist in his hand, stopping you from pushing him away. A soft gasp escapes you when he curls his arms over your thighs, spreading you open for him.
“Been wanting to fuck you ever since he brought you ‘round,” Leon whispers, peppering kisses to your inner thighs, “you’re so pretty.”
You mewl, hips bucking as he pulls your panties down your legs. Leon’s eyes darken as your fingers move, spreading apart the folds of your pussy so he can get a good look.
“Fuck,” he groans, “pussy’s so fucking wet, baby.”
Your fingers run through his soft hair, pulling his head closer. Leon goes more than willingly, his tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up your pussy. He lets out a guttural moan, arms tightening around your thighs, hands disappearing up your top to squeeze at your tits as he all but shoves his face into your cunt.
“You- oh- you should apologize, Leon,” you whisper, pushing his head away when he tries to suck your clit into his mouth. “You didn’t like any of my outfits and you were mean.”
“Are you serious?” he asks, trying to nuzzle back into your pussy.
You nod, and he groans, half-lidded eyes never straying from your leaking cunt.
“‘m sorry,” he breathes out, inching closer and managing to land a soft kiss to your aching clit, “‘m sorry, okay? I was an asshole and fuck-” Leon shudders, nudging past your hand to kiss your clit again as his eyes meet yours, “I didn’t him to want to see you like that, all pretty and dolled up.”
There’s a strange fluttering sensation in your chest, heart skipping a beat at his confession. You stare down at him, letting him kiss your clit one more time before you rub your fingers through your folds, pressing your slick fingers against his mouth. Leon moans, mouth opening, sucking your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them.
“Don’t stop,” you mumble when Leon licks your pussy again.
He hums, squeezing at your tits, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples as he eats you out. Soft mewls spill from your mouth, hips rocking to meet his mouth, back arching to press more of yourself against him.
You jerk in his grasp, an involuntary twitch running through your body when he strokes the pad of his thumb over your clit gently, his tongue burying itself inside of you.
“Leon,” you whine, tugging at his hair while your head tips back, “‘m close.”
He doubles his efforts when you say that, pinching your nipples roughly as he slurps and sucks at the wetness of your pussy. The sounds are lewd, the soft smack of his lips around your slick folds and aching cunt making you flush.
“Taking my fingers so good,” he whispers, pushing two of his fingers inside of your cunt and cooking them so that they brush against your sensitive spot.
You fist his hair tighter, moans growing louder as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his mouth latching onto your clit, tongue flicking and stroking across the swollen bud before sucking hard.
“Ah!” you squeak out, shoving his face further into your cunt, thighs trapping his face and squeezing tight as you cum, body shuddering and toes digging into his back, “Leon!”
Leon groans into your cunt, taking your orgasm eagerly, sucking and licking at your wetness, drinking it down. He huffs a breath when you try to push his head away, moving your hand away to lick over your pussy despite your twitching thighs and the painful grip you have on his hair.
He pulls away finally with a kiss to your clit, grinning up at you, his eyes hazy with lust. The lower half of his face is wet and Leon licks his lips before leaning towards you, his nose nudging against yours.
“Kiss me, sweetheart.”
You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He stares up at you, lips parted and you lower your head, hesitation and guilt forgotten as you press your lips against his. Leon lets out a contented sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist, lips moving against yours eagerly.
He gets off of his knees and crawls on top of you instead, hips slotting between your thighs. Your legs wrap around his waist, kissing him languidly and gasping into his mouth when he grinds his clothed cock against your bare cunt.
“Want it?” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck, “want my cock, baby?”
“We- we shouldn’t,” you whisper weakly, watching as he sits back to pull his shirt up over his head.
You gulp nervously when you see his bare upper half, cunt clenching at the sight of his muscled abdomen and thick biceps. Leon ignores you, his lips slotting over yours again, hand caressing your waist soothingly.
A sigh leaves you, hands smoothing over his shoulders to pull him closer. He stares down at you, panting softly, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.
“You’re right,” he murmurs.
Neither of you make any moves to detach from each other however, Leon’s hand stroking over your hair as he grunts and rocks his hips against your cunt again.
“Just- shit- just the tip,” Leon offers, groaning when he feels your hands on his chest, “just the tip, baby.”
You whimper into his mouth when he kisses you again, fingers creeping down to pull at his shorts impatiently.
“D- doesn’t count if it’s just the tip,” you agree breathlessly, hand wrapping around his fat cock.
“Yeah,” Leon says, his voice shaky, “yeah, doesn’t hah- doesn’t count if it's just the tip.”
Leon mutters out a curse when your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, kissing you roughly as he grasps his cock, pumping it a few times. You watch, flushed and eager as he presses his cock against your folds, rubbing it against you.
“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he snarls, moving his cock and slapping it the tip of it against your swollen clit, smearing pre-cum across your folds. “‘m gonna make you forget about him,” Leon slurs, “gonna make you mine, sweetheart.”
He presses the tip of his cock into you and you whine, clawing at his biceps, feeling the initial stretch of his cock. Leon grunts, his face pressing back into the crook of you neck, fucking you shallowly.
“Bet my entire cock would feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your neck, “wouldn’t that be nice, baby? My fat cock filling you up?”
“But- but we can’t,” you babble, gasping when he pushes his cock in a little more, “Leon- oh fuck-”
Your words die on your tongue when Leon drives his hips into you, cock filling you up completely. A strangled moan leaves you, head tipping back as you cry out, Leon groaning as he pounds his hips into you.
“Take it, sweetheart,” he grunts, hand smoothing over your hair as he kisses your cheek messily, “doing so good, made to take my cock, my sweet girl.”
The praise is making your eyes roll to the back of your head, legs tightening around his hips as your nails claw down his back.
“Kiss,” you whine, lips parting for Leon, “kiss me.”
Leon lets out a low growl, his lips crashing onto yours, cock dragging in and out of your clenching walls rapidly. The sounds of your skin clapping together fills his apartment, but you’re too cockdrunk, too utterly gone to have any care in the world. All you can think about is his weight on top of your body, his lips dragging across your skin, his cock pounding into you.
“Squeezing me so tight,” Leon moans, “gonna make me cum, baby.”
You nod rapidly, cunt clenching around him as the coil of pleasure in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.
“Leon!” you wail, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, body twitching.
“Cum,” he grunts, squeezing your hips tightly, “c’mon baby, cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cream my fucking cock.”
His lips slot over yours and you whimper, kissing him back needily as you shake in his grasp, orgasm racking through you as you cum.
“Fuck-” Leon whispers, feeling the clench of your cunt around his cock, “baby, baby, baby.”
His hips stutter, his head falling between your breasts, soft pants filling the air as he cums. Leon’s hot cum floods your pussy, another whimper escaping you as you feel his cock twitch.
You both lay there, chests heaving.
“I hate you,” you whisper, running your fingers through his soft hair.
“Yeah,” Leon rasps, “I know.”
He kisses you anyways.
-
Your boyfriend’s been promoted.
It’s how you find yourself here, latched onto his arm as he talks with his colleagues with a tight smile on your face. Unfortunately for you, Leon happens to work at the same place which is why you spend most of your time trying to avoid him.
You’d tried to get out of attending the anniversary dinner, too ashamed and sick to your stomach, but your boyfriend had pleaded with you, which had only made you feel guiltier.
You can’t escape Leon’s gaze either. His eyes bore into you no matter where you go in the spacious venue and it gets to the point where you’re telling your boyfriend that you need to get some fresh air. There’s a fire escape and you take your chance, pushing past the heavy door to suck in a deep breath of the cool night air. The expanse of the city lies out before you, buildings lit up and roads bustling with traffic. You rub your aching temples, eyes squeezing shut.
Unfortunately, you don’t get to cool down for long, not when Leon’s joining you. He looks as handsome as ever, especially in a suit, his hair combed back neatly.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Go fuck yourself, Leon,” you hiss out, pointing your finger at him accusingly.
A lazy grins spreads across his face, his arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. Your hands land against his chest, breath hitching when he lowers his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours.
“Fuck me yourself, hm?”
You end up bent over the railing with Leon’s fat cock stuffed inside of you. He grips your hips roughly, groans as you cry out into the night, peppers kisses over your shoulder and shoves his fingers into your mouth while he whispers sweet nothings to you.
“You’re my girl.”
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil smut#leon kennedy x you#resident evil#leon kennedy
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how he acts when you're pregnant | enhypen x reader
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➸ request from anon; heyy, I’m so happy you’re back! You’re fics were always my go-to if I wanted to read anything dad/pregnancy related, loved them all! can you please write about how enhypen would treat you during pregnancy, like their protectiveness, taking care of the reader, or when she’s having complications etc. 🤍
➸ note; hehe me too thank you so much!! that makes me so happy!! i don't love some of these but I hope they're what you wanted <3
➸ word count; 2335 words
➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun, seren; in the womb lol
➸ warning(s); mentions of vomiting, implied sexy time, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, mentions of possible birth complications
enhypen masterlist
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
heeseung
Heeseung can’t take his hands off you.
You don’t know if it’s because you’re newlyweds, or if it’s because you’re pregnant, but he can’t stay away.
At least one hand is always somewhere on you, on your shoulder, around your waist, on your thigh or knee.
At night, it doesn’t matter if it’s in the dead of summer, his arm is snaked around you and his head is buried in the back of your neck.
Once you reach your second trimester, and your bump becomes noticeable, Heeseung is always touching your bump, tapping it absentmindedly with his fingers, beaming from ear to ear when eventually he can feel your baby boy squirming underneath his touch.
Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night to the push of feet against his palms, it made him smile every time.
Heeseung is also completely whipped for you, he’ll do anything you ask.
Your cravings get intense, and he doesn’t complain when you wake him at three in the morning whining about salted popcorn with cheese on. And he goes to the store for you, every time.
Heeseung isn’t usually very sappy, but as soon as your bump pops up he’s the most sentimental soppy man in the world.
Every morning and night he talks to your bump about anything and everything. Even during the day he will randomly address the bump asking it questions.
‘Okay, little one,’ Heeseung sinks to his knees one morning, resting a hand on either side of your bump, ‘kick once for cornflakes. Kick twice for the chocolate cereal.’
You giggle, ‘you’re an idiot.’
‘I’m indecisive. This boy needs to pull his weight and help me. He’s already living here rent free for the next however long.’
You roll your eyes, going back to your own breakfast.
‘What do you think baby boy?’ Heeseung gently pokes at your bump attempting to illicit a response.
Eventually your son delivers a single kick, causing you to choke on your coffee.
‘Unlucky,’ you laugh at his disappointed face, ‘cornflakes it is.’
‘I will evict him as soon as physically possible. How can he disrespect me like this in my own house.’
‘Can’t wait until he’s actually here,’ you murmur.
‘Me too,’ Heeseung kisses your bump before getting up to kiss your head and reach for the cornflakes.
jay
Jay isn’t too overbearing during your pregnancy. He’s not the type to constantly ask if you need anything, he will wait for you to ask him.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t anticipate your needs, you’ll come home from a late shift to find your pregnancy pillow already set up, your cravings are always fully stocked and there’s always plenty of bubble bath.
Where he does get somewhat intense is in public.
Jay constantly worries about harm coming to either of you. When you go shopping, he’s careful not to be recognised, wearing hats and glasses as to not to draw attention to you. In airports, his arm is always around you, guiding you around.
So, when he’s on tour during your pregnancy and you come to visit, he’s on high alert.
‘Jay, I can walk around the venue by myself,’ you’re escorted into the dressing room by a security guard.
Jay pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, ‘there’s lots of equipment around baby, what if you hurt yourself?’
You roll your eyes, ‘have I ever hurt myself backstage before?’
‘Let me look after you,’ he pecks your lips, ‘anyway, it’s soundcheck soon. There’s a nice chair set up for you beside the stage for the actual show as well-‘
‘Wait, I’m going to watch from backstage?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ Jay says, ‘going out there can’t be good for you, or the baby-‘
‘But you know I love being in the audience,’ you pout, ‘Jay, I want to be out there singing along with my lightstick just like everyone else.’
Jay tilts his head, ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, you’re so far along and the fans can be so intense…’
‘I’ll be in the stands with your managers, I’ll have so much space!’
‘I just have visions of you falling over or someone bumping into you..’
‘Please, baby,’ you pull out the puppy eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, and you quickly see him crumble.
‘Fine, but minimal dancing,’ he taps your nose, ‘and a security guard.’
Just then, a stage runner knocks on the door, letting Jay know he’s needed for soundcheck.
‘Come on, I’ll take you to your seat.’
‘Jay!’
jake
When you first found out you were pregnant, Jake sort of panics a little bit.
You’re hunched over the toilet and throwing up he doesn’t really know what to do. This is completely new territory for him. Your early symptoms often have him incredibly flustered, you’re emotional, your boobs hurt and you’re constantly dizzy.
One night, Jake comes home from practice, and it’s like his instincts awaken when he sees you in the bathroom, on the floor sobbing.
‘Jake,’ you cry when you see him, and he’s instantly at your side on the tiles, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’
Jake takes you into his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder.
‘I know I haven’t been the most.. helpful,’ he murmurs, ‘but I know you, and you are so strong, and you can do this. And I will do everything and anything you need from me, okay?’
From then on, Jake is the most attentive boyfriend, and is very touchy. You don’t even have to ask, and he’s giving you a foot massage. You come home from work, and there’s already a bath run for you at the perfect temperature.
Once you’re four months in, your bump becomes noticeable, and Jake’s level of affection is just exacerbated.
Every night he rubs your lotion on your bump, tells the bump about his day, and sleeping with his hand on it.
When you’re hormonal, he holds you.
‘Everything hurts, Jake,’ you sob, ‘all day. She’s been sitting on my spine all day, and I’ve been having braxtons, and my boobs hurt and they’re leaking, I tried to nap but I just couldn’t-‘
Jake from month one in your pregnancy would’ve freaked out at your outburst, but this Jake, in month seven, is calm and collected.
He runs you a bath, filling it with lavender bubbles. On your insistence, he gets in behind you, rubbing your back, shoulders and achy breasts.
’Is that better?’ Jake murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine and stirring up your hormones.
‘Much,’ you roll your head back against his shoulder, ‘you’re the best.’
He kisses your head, ‘how about we get out and go lay down?’
‘We can get out,’ you nod, ‘but can we do more than lay down?’
Jake grins cheekily, ‘incredible idea.’
sunghoon
For your whole pregnancy, Sunghoon is just filled with pride. He shows ultrasound photos to everyone and talks nonstop about your incoming baby girl to anyone that will listen.
Sunghoon becomes a bit of a pregnancy expert. Every book he can get his hands on, he reads cover to cover. He knows what to expect, what was abnormal and everything in-between.
So Sunghoon did notice just how much you were needing to go to the bathroom.
It was relentless. He would wake up several times a night to you wriggling out of his arms and padding into your ensuite. During the day, you’re constantly up and down needing to pee, when you’re driving you have Sunghoon pull into service stations constantly.
He brings it up to your doctor at the next scan. Your doctor agrees that the rate of your bathroom trips are a little out of the ordinary, so he refers you for blood tests.
‘Gestational diabetes,’ you read the words on the leaflet, slumped in the passenger seat of your car.
‘Y/N..’
‘This is my fault.’
‘Y/N, you heard the doctor. Sometimes these things just happen,’ Sunghoon rests a hand on your arm.
‘What if something happens to her because of this? I know he said that the risks were small, but what if?’ you begin to tear up.
’She was perfect on the scan the other day, remember? I’m going to help you through this. We’re going to get through this.’
Sunghoon stayed up all night that night reading article after article about gestational diabetes. You woke up the next morning to find a full google doc with meal plans, exercise routines and a schedule to check your blood sugars.
He happily did everything with you, eating the same meals and cutting down on sugar.
On an evening, the two of you would go down to the pool in your apartment complex for a swim. You would slowly swim around while chatting, usually about the baby or work.
‘You’ve made this so much easier for me,’ you stand over your daughter’s empty crib, damp hair occasionally dripping onto your bump, ‘thank you.’
‘It’s what I’m supposed to do,’ Sunghoon gently turns you around by your waist and kisses your nose, ‘as your husband and her father.’
‘We love you, Hoon.’
‘I love you too.’
sunoo
Sunoo feels totally out of his depth.
Suddenly his fiancee is pregnant, something you never expected. He doesn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, and doesn’t know how to respond to your symptoms. He sort of just treats you as if you’re sick, bringing you soup and tea but keeping his distance. At the same time, you’re hormonal, and can’t understand why he’s staying away.
You worry he doesn’t want the baby, that he’s having second thoughts, or you’re bothering him too much with your requests. In reality, Sunoo is just so worried that he’s not being helpful, or that somehow he might hurt or upset you.
One night you’re laying in bed together watching TV in silence, you essentially lose it.
’Sunoo,’ you’re tearing up, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why?’ he whips his head around to look at you, ‘for what?’
‘You’re just distant, and you keep away from me, I barely see you. If it’s me or the baby I would rather you just tell me-’
’No- no, that’s not it at all. I want you and the baby more than anything in the world.’
Sunoo is quiet for a few moments, ‘I’m sorry. I guess I’m just scared. I’ve been retreating into my head and haven’t been there for you like I should be.’
‘Sunoo, we need to talk to each other. I need to know how you feel. If we’re going to be parents, we need to be a team, we need to be in sync.’
‘I know, you’re right. I promise going forward I’ll be more open with you about how I feel.’
From then on, he’s obsessed with all things pregnancy and baby.
Every few days you’ll come home to a package addressed to you that you didn’t order, containing a weird pregnancy product that he saw on TikTok.
You and Sunoo talk constantly. You chat late at night in bed, in the morning on your balcony as the sun comes up, in the car on an evening, all about your excitement and fears surrounding the baby.
Sunoo also becomes somewhat clingy, especially at night or when you’re in crowds. While before you were pregnant he would usually just throw an arm around you, now he sleeps completely pressed against you, his chest to your back.
‘I love you,’ he mumbles into your neck one night, ‘thank you for giving me my dream.’
jungwon
Your pregnancy with Serin is very turbulent.
For the first half, everything is fairly smooth.
You get sick, and Jungwon holds your hair back. You have mood swings, he tries his best to be empathetic.
Jungwon knows enough to understand that these things are par for the course, so he’s supportive but not too concerned about your symptoms.
You were around halfway through your pregnancy when the less than normal symptoms began.
Jungwon would come home from practice to you sitting in a completely dark room.
‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’
Your head was in your hands, unable to be lifted.
‘I have the worst migraine I think I have ever had,’ you whine, ‘I have taken as much paracetamol as I am allowed. I had a bath in the dark, put a cold cloth on my forehead. Wonnie it’s so bad, I can barely see..’
Jungwon holds you, massaging your head until you fall asleep hours later.
When the headaches and vision problems persist, you make an emergency appointment.
‘Bed,’ Jungwon practically pushes you up the stairs when you get home, supervising and making sure you were changing into comfortable clothes and getting under the covers.
Your intense headaches turn out to be preeclampsia. Although at the moment Serin was measuring well, the doctor had warned you of the potential complications, including preterm labour or low birth weight.
You’d been ordered to take strict bed rest.
For the remainder of your pregnancy, Jungwon waits on you hand and foot.
He’s suddenly fussing over you, messing with your pillows and cushions. He brings up your food on trays, eating every meal beside you. The two of you tear through countless shows on a plethora of streaming services. He holds you when you cry in frustration. He holds your hand when the doctor visits every week.
‘Baby, it’s ready,’ Jungwon enters your bedroom, approaching the bed.
‘Really?’ you warm with excitement at the prospect of getting out of bed, ‘can I see?’
Jungwon helps you get up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk.
He leads you down the corridor and into your daughters nursery, which he, Jay and Heeseung had spent all day decorating.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ hot tears spring to your eyes, ‘you guys.. It’s exactly how I imagined.’
‘She’ll be in there so soon,’ Jungwon lays a hand on the rail of the crib, ‘and no matter what happens, she’ll be fine.’
#jungwon x reader#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jay park x reader#jake x reader#jake sim x reader#sim jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#enhypen x reader#dad!enhypen#dad!jungwon#dad!heeseung#dad!jay#dad!jake#dad!sunghoon#dad!sunoo#enhypen fluff#jungwon fluff#heeseung fluff#jay fluff#jake fluff#jake sim fluff#jay park fluff#sunghoon fluff#sunoo fluff#enhypen fic#heeseung fic#jungwon fic#jay fic
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⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙
oddballs and eggnog
goofybf! x THICC male reader
summary: love me a nerdy man that’s got a lil spice to him. plus a lil xmas lore!
notes: HI BEAUTIFULS! merry xmas to those who celebrate. it’s been a while fr, my bad dawgs uni work has been ploughing my ass so violently im reconsidering if a degree is even for me. but as a masochistic bottom, i had to channel my energy elsewhere; thus, this fic is just me showing the variety of my tastes as the true indecisive femboy that i am. show me a cute guy and i will plan my whole life with him. i need to get a grip.
originally, i canonically wrote this character with ginger hair (y’all know i fold for redheads), but the more i kept writing, the clearer it became to me that dark brown hair/black aligned with my OWN understanding of him. it’s all fiction anyways so feel free to adapt body types as you see fit. enjoy my lovelies 🎀
album rec: flo - access all areas. these girlies have my heart. been following them since about 2022 and they are genuinely my fave artists, cannot wait for flo world domination.
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you guys had mutual acquaintances for a couple years, but it wasn’t until the two of you got to university that your friendship really blossomed. the engineering student didn’t have the best luck when it came to relationships; in fact, people would only toy with his emotions when they wanted something from him, so he learnt to put up a wall of cynicism.
these barriers he had fortified for his own protection made him quite a reserved guy. never cruel or nasty. just quiet. sure, he wasn’t a complete loner, he had a few VERY close bros who he’d let in, but it was clear that in this silence, he was safe.
he’s super handsy, whether that means pulling you on his lap, be it at parties or when he’s gaming, or placing his hands in your back pocket when y’all walk to class, he just wants to hold you. probably got something to do with the fact that he needs to make sure you’re real and not the angel he believes you to be. you love your needy bf and his craving for physical touch.
this is kinda juxtaposed by how flustered he gets by your words. the minute you whisper in his ear, he could cum in his jeans on the spot. he gets so red when you compliment him which makes him squeeze you tighter.
he wasn’t a virgin before meeting you, he’d had a few hookups but nothing sexual with someone he genuinely cared about. as a result, it made sense why he was very nervous when it came to your first time together.
to relax him, you decided to give him a blowjob to ease the tension and allow him to cum quick in the first round so he’d last longer during anal. sat back on the edge of his bed, he wore a vest and baggy joggers, awaiting your fingers to unleash his raging boner. you knelt down and flashed a comforting smile to him, which he failed to mirror perfectly.
‘we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready to. I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.’ you said concerned, stroking his abs, clear to you that he was stressing.
‘nah baby, i want this so bad. it’s just gotta be really special because you’re really special to me.’ he said gripping your chin.
‘i love you, y/n. like a lot.’
‘i know that you weirdo, i love you too, you mean so much to me.’
‘now, lemme show you how much.’ you said coyly, to which he was more than happy to oblige.
when i tell you, your man eats so well that his cum is literally like milk. the typa white, thick, pearly cum that you would swallow every drop of, because it truly is just disrespectful not to. the first time he came was a surprise for the two of you. he didn’t realise how much he loved seeing his cum all over your face, decorating your juicy, wet lips. the head you gave him was so good, he napped for 2 hours straight after you drained him. but that deffo changed him for the better.
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his hobbies include boxing and gaming. he’s such a nerd he makes his own demo projects, playing with his classmates. you always chastise him for not making his hobby a lucrative endeavour - your boy’s got a talent and he doesn’t seem to know it. equally, he loves his legos and comics just as much as he enjoys coding, making you the prettiest bouquet of lego flowers for your first date. after spending some time walking, he took you back to his place and y’all spent the entire night binging his favourite marvel and dc films.
one time it was his birthday and you thought it be a good idea to make a short graphic novel of the journey of your relationship - ending steamily with you pregnant.
‘baby, i love this so much! who knew how sexy you’d look with a baby bump?’ ‘anything can happen in the multiverse’ you laugh, as he kissed your jaw.
‘I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight.’
as we have established, he’s far from experienced. he holds your hand through missionary always because it makes him feel safe. makes so many jokes during it as a way to deflect. lowkey loves being choked. you took the lead most of the time before, using him as a pole and ride the shit out of him.
but, that night he ploughed you with a sense of purpose, so deep and mercilessly that your insides were moulded into an incubator for any hypothetical foetus he would soon impregnate you with. after, he laid curled up next to you, caressing the belly that he had now filled with
‘i hate biology sometimes,’ he says breathlessly. ’you’d look so good with our lil baby growing inside your belly.’
your boyfriend is the goofiest mf ever; playing practical jokes on all his friends and fulfilling his role as your comedian. definitely one of your favourite characteristics of his.
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his sleeper build is INSANE. he might appear tall and lanky, but he is far from it. bench pressing more than 100 kilos with one arm - the brudda is basically superman. he’s what you’d get if clark kent had ginger hair, and was a huge weirdo.
though he cannot dance to save his life. he used to be very awkward and shy, but the minute them clothes are off and you two are in the sheets? stroke game is giving pornstar baby girl lemme tell you! ever since your first time, it’s like you awaken the sexual drive in him that’s been missing all his life. this, paired for his complete adoration for you makes him a lethal weapon in bed - quite literally, your man casually packs an 8 inch pussy destroyer with veins that massage and pummel your gummy walls so well.
after this moment he became the BIGGEST TEASE. slapping his dick all over your face. as you chase his dick like a good puppy, he giggles at how desperate you are. ‘sweet Jesus you feel good’. ‘holy shit’. ‘don’t act like you don’t love it.’ painting hickeys all over your neck . he loves when ppl ask you because of how flustered you get, makes him want to mark you more. he’s no longer shy to the world and he thanks you everyday for that. living to call you princess - in both a mocking and endearing tone, he loved toying with your nipples because you’re his lil doll. in cowgirl he will play with them whilst jerking you off to get you to cum all over his abs. and! he LOVES eating ass - like almost obsessively, as if he’s high of your pussy.
he smells so good. so good. you always act like a bitch in heat whenever he steps out of the shower with a towel skimpily wrapped around his adonis belt.
your bf loves playing with his cum and using his dick as a paintbrush to decorate your belly, butt, and face. ‘my masterpiece’ + ‘my muse’ he professes. somehow managing to entrance you to always stroke his dick during makeout sessions. he brings his hands to play with your hair, knowing that his dick is in extremely good hands with you - literally. always pulling you off of his dick because he is really sensitive and ur mouth is a fucking weapon, but will show you that he’s the boss and could leave you bedridden for a couple days after a good fuck.
things he would say drunk off of eggnog:
‘i would die a happy man beneath those beautiful cheeks of yours’
‘put ur hole on my North Pole.’
‘ay, you Don’t get to call me handsome unless you’re gonna HANDsome of those fat cheeks of yours to my lap.’
‘come on, I’ve been a good boy, Santa says gimme some of that pussy you know I love so much.’
‘that ass of yours, come here lemme unwrap it.’
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this man has you written into his destiny. he always dreamed of raising a son and dressing him up in the flyest outfits and with you, that desire became reality. you too truly are a match made in heaven.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙
taglist:
@ghostking4m
@gayaristocrat
@lysanderplume
@acoustickitten
#gay#bottom male reader#smut#gay male#gay reader#male bottom#male x male#gay love#gay smut#male bottom reader#male reader#mxm#m4m#gay men#mlm#mlm yearning
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DOLL PARTS
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Death Island Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON SEX, SMUT, female reader, age gap, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, Stockholm syndrome, dumbification ig, rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, finger sucking, bruises, implied physical violence, internal conflict, teasing, guilt, implied obsessive behavior(Leon) i think, dirty talk, pet names, degradation.
Summary: There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is close to lose after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. For him, to kidnap you is to save that part. Cause life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Of course you don't understand.
notes: this is a mess I fear, but I had a blast writing this tho so idc LOL!!! Also thanks @writingwisterias for letting me bother you with my rambling and my indecisiveness with kidnapper leon(╹◡╹)I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!
tags: @melanchol1cs
Clocks are ticking, not only in real time but in his mind - a disturbing reminder of how at his age Leon wasn’t even able to settle down. Tick - tock. Of course, men can always find a young woman, and two or three times of unprotected sex would be enough to impregnate one. Still, Leon doesn’t believe that applies to him - alcohol is not only a boner killer but also of fertility. Neither does he crave babies, he can be considered a dad to Sherry, also they would only show how time flies. She is enough of a reminder, no need for more.
He found you on the dating app - Sherry suggested he try, as a joke, probably not expecting him to follow the advice.
For him, you looked like a doll. Almost a godsend. Pretty, young, and easy to manhandle. Almost drooled at the prospect of having your legs wrapped around his waist. He should feel guilty or disgusted at the idea to fuck you… at the images of the material of your panties clinging to your hips, wrinkling up with every movement before his fingers would curl under it to tug them down. Right? No-no, he is only 38 years old - at his age men are already bald, Leon is having an easy time here. He has a chance, always had.
While he was unsure what to do, was a simple ‘hello, how are you’ enough for you? Or would it be too simple? Or repulsive? Why is he even worried about that, you probably matched him on accident.
You texted him first, something he didn’t expect from a young woman - even women of his age don’t text him first, they are dry and uninterested. Like sex with them.
“hiii ^^” This forces a smile out of him. Again, three dots appear. “You didn’t swipe me as a mistake, right?:3”
He hesitates, his thumb floats on the digital keyboard for a moment. No, it wasn’t a mistake, still, he needs to gratify his ego. “If it was, would it get you sad?”
“yep, actually, very big big sad!”
That was it. Easy and quick to get closer to you. He expected more obstacles, maybe times changed indeed or you are into older guys. All he needed to do was to open his wallet, be nice enough, and show how a ‘real man’ should treat a woman.
Leon knows a lot about you. He knows too much information - where you live, your college, and where you work. Not in a creep-like way, no-no. You were the one asking him to drive you there. Maybe your youth is the only problem to blame on - you were a chatting box endlessly and easily sharing anything with him, maybe things you should not have to. Somewhat, this only attached him to you.
There are always some subtle hints and hidden alarms, no one usually gives a shit about. Also, understandable, to ask anyone who knows him - hard to find someone with a bad opinion of Leon.
“He is okay”
“A hero. Not everyone is capable of saving the president’s daughter” or a simple shrug.
Outside his work, Leon is… just a guy most of the time. Yes, of course, not the luckiest one with the ladies, but it is unlikely someone would describe him as the type to kidnap a girl. No one understands how middle age crisis is going to be hard to handle, he is pushing 40, surely enough it is already waiting for him at the edge of the doorstep - and Leon had enough of bullshit in his life, a pretty and young woman is the panacea for this. The godsend pill to erase his problems.
And finally.
Finally, the tremendous loneliness will disappear, leaving it behind him like a bad dream. The feeling that everybody in the world is doing something without Leon. He can’t stand this ever-consuming loneliness to spread anymore, today IS the day.
He can let himself be selfish just once. Right?
To reach his goal, there is a small step though, a sacrifice to make. That’s why he set a date, in a good and expensive restaurant too.
And today is the day. This shouldn’t be forgotten. The biggest day. The most important one. No, doesn’t do the justice. The absolutely, positively biggest day, may be the right choice of words for Leon.
On the spot already, waiting for you. This time he isn’t late. That bad habit since 1998, but for once he didn’t struggle with his punctuality - too petulant about what will happen, checking clocks every second. Almost like a goddamn teenager, shifting the weight from one foot to the other on the spot. Nothing can go wrong, he tries to calm himself, there are so many ways to cover your disappearance. Perks of the job.
He didn’t notice how you arrived here too until your perfume brought him to senses. Your face is soft, your eyelashes flutter and you are so untainted. Your younger frame reminds him of himself your age. 21 years old, 1998. When he was at your age he had already witnessed horrors, you don’t realize they still exist. Leon shakes his head, that memory never brings anything good, but today his mood is not ruined and the memory has only strengthened the urge to keep you close.
Leon needs you, untouched by horrors and he knows much better how life can be terrifying.
“You ready?” He flashes a smile, his mood is more upturned than it has ever been - you can’t help yourself, a grin spread across your face too. It is infectious.
“Mmm, I am” you nod, curling your hand around his elbow, to keep yourself closer to him. And he is ready too, god, he has never been so fucking ready in his life.
“Not late this time,” His heart clenches at your words, and he looks into your eyes with a cocked eyebrow - awaiting whatever you came up with. “not like you at all, should I expect a surprise?”
“Maybe, maybe not” He brushes off with a shrug, a smile is still on his lips as you get closer to the car, but he can feel your excitement.
“A ring maybe?” You giggle. He opens the car door for you to get in, you don’t want to let go of his arm.
“A ring? Already?” He says and shakes his head. No, not a ring, but a different surprise. He kisses your lips in a chaste way, hoping you will not try to harp on this topic. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart, wait for it”
…
After dinner was different. A drop of temperatures and an easy flow of the air, dull lights of the street lamp illuminating your figures, inhaling the air in your lungs for the last time. The street is empty; no drivers, no smell of cigarettes, just you and him. And… silence fell upon you both.
Until his hand presses a tissue around your nose. It is suffocating; your nails dig into the arm, trying to worm out.
“Shhh, sweetheart, easy there” His voice brushes against your ear, soothing and intimate. The one he used when he fucked you. “Don’t make it worse for yourself...”
The warm body pressed against your back and kept you close until your body became pliant in Leon’s embrace on the silent night.
Tied up and unconscious. He is considerate enough to not let you experience the narrow space of the car trunk. With heaviness in his chest and like a scaredy cat, driving to his apartment - guilt shifts to euphoria in no time. You wanted this, no? Why would you stay with him after all? It doesn’t matter anymore. He was successful, finally. It worked. Today is his luckiest day, it should be highlighted on the calendar.
While this is the uncomfortable memory of your last date.
…
Every time you are alone, there are little things to do - you could have done some projects for college, maybe talk to friends and go to clubs. To catch a pretty guy, to have sex in the bathroom of the said club. Or fall in love with a guy of your age. It fills you with love and excitement like your hypothetical phone is going to ring as if you aren’t forced to be in Leon’s apartment.
Leon says you are a doll. Not those plastic bimbo dolls you see on social media with plastic acrylics that are longer than their eyelashes. Those reeks of cheapness by trying to be expensive, Leon has explained the difference to you. You are not Barbie or Bratz, those are ones you’d probably played with in your childhood, for Leon, you are another kind of a doll.
He is the one controlling you, making those dumb rules you’ve never memorized and you aren’t really going to. His grip around you is tight and your skin blooms with darker colors after playing with you.
Pretty, that word lives rent-free in his mind, almost becoming the most used of his. Favorite word. Your presence urges him to dress you up. A glance into the closet, most of it contains dresses and other items he has bought you. To take care of you, Leon almost emptied his wallet entirely for you a lot after getting you. It excites him. Admiring outfits he put you in and the same night, he is the one raising the fabric of your dress - two fingers or a dick inside you are enough to make you busy with moans and squirm.
He loves it, oh, he adores it. And your pussy is the best. It calms him, centers him - being someone’s center of the world is delightful, the only one time of the day in which he doesn’t feel insane. You make him feel sane, on the days when your mouth doesn’t run free.
From your point of view, he looks like he is trying to play house with you. In a wrong way. Playing house didn’t include tears or forced silence. Or forced participation. It should be fun, usually, it had been, at least in your childhood. Leon acts like this is normal like he didn’t just kidnap you during your date and force you to be here. He is still sweet, still spending his money on you (even though he doesn’t care about your preferences now), there is food on the table too. During the dinner, the silence is filled with stories from his work - names of people you don’t know. They don’t know you either, you aren’t the most famous captive girl on the planet after all. This is the bare minimum.
What’s more to ask for? Freedom, you are full of his shit actually, you would have preferred ignorance to be bliss cause his farce makes you feel insane. More unanswered questions flood your mind, they stick to your mind like a leech on the skin after a fresh swim on the summer day. You need to wash away this feeling, the only way is to question him. Right. First, you played nicely, still pitying him and holding him dear to your heart.
“What are you talking about, sweetie?” And a confused expression was his answer. He doesn’t even process what you said, just moves on. This didn’t work. Nothing fucking works here.
Now you prefer to poke those facts at him - like a harsh whiplash, a cold water against his face to bring him back to reality. You shouldn’t live like this alone.
Under your flesh there is a hidden hole filled with turbulent waters, almost tearing you apart - suffocating you with confusion. You wish hatred was the only reason to keep you sane, but the deep affection towards him still emerges like a bad dream. His tired eyes with loving and sweet nothing words come from his mouth, peppering your body and face with kisses when everything is right. The memories of nights with him flash in your mind: he is nice enough not to break you, while your body reacts in natural ways. You get wet, you feel pleasure, and his fingers know just the right spot to make your back arch.
This tears you apart, it confuses you too. Maybe there is something you don’t catch on, something missing. Conditioning? You aren’t a mindless idiot, nor a Pavlovian dog, but your body reacts like one. Maybe that’s a lie to reassure yourself. Still, you can’t drive yourself close to orgasm when he is not home. Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, almost with tears trying to get yourself off. To feel like your own person without him.
But something. Is. Always. Missing. You are incomplete.
…
It is already late, really late. Leon is a busy man, at least his job seems to be really important - so important, that he has always refused to tell you, avoiding the topic like the plague and switching to that honeyed tone, talking to you like a dumb puppy. Maybe it is some government shit job, something dirty - suitable for him.
But when he is late, many hopeful scenarios emerge, the most common is his car crushing to death. Good girls get gifts, their wishes get accomplished also, and they end up in heaven too - Leon told you that and to him, you are a good girl. Corny shit. Could he be right though? What if your wish was heard finally? Then remained trouble in your life would be to get out.
And the same dreams are crushed every time the sound of the car engine goes off, the jiggle of keys reaches your ears. You know it too well, you can recognize these little details and they fill you with dread. The sound of his steps, they are so different from others. The sound of his car doesn’t sound like those outside his house. Maybe you are insane, but everything he does is so recognizable it makes you sick.
And Leon is back.
His face is the only one you see, even in your dreams. There is nothing changeable in it. Light stubble, but still him. Shaved and it is still him. Different cologne. And still him. Leon sickens you, this little play often pushes your buttons, urging you to break this act and get yourself into trouble. Maybe the remains of hope are to blame, maybe Leon would change his mind and stop this.
He plops down on the couch, drawing your attention to him - impossible to ignore, if you did, you wouldn’t stop hearing the end of his complaints. His black shirt strains across his muscular body, the fabric is not shy to outline his big chest. Black suits him, but Leon looks good in everything forcing more dread stir in your chest.
“Finally, home” Leon sighs, his hand creeping up to pull you into his lap, acting unbothered. Your legs straddle his hips, facing him. Don’t forget, you are captive. And this is the part of the routine. He is going to watch those old movies from his childhood, or work silently(maybe he will nudge his cock inside you, to keep himself warm) and then he will fuck you. A tearful routine.
“…yay..!” You try to smile, forcing it to please him. Ignoring conflicting feelings in your body, anticipation to feel his dick mixed with dread. A yearning for change. Leon kisses your forehead.
His blue eyes feel heavy on your face, making you feel so little. “I missed you” Leon cooed with a honeyed tone, pulling you even closer. That light smell of beer coming from him forces your skin to crawl. His fingers pinch your cheek, tugging it briefly too. “My doll felt lonely today, right? Without me?”
Again, that mocking sweetness. The one you’d use for puppies. You nod with a hum “Mmm”
“I had a bad bad day today, those reports dried my eyes, god” he groans, his head tipped back, rubbing his eyes as to emphasize his words. But still gripping your waist. You don’t have the mood to be nice to him, his smile and relaxed expression stir dread and hate towards him. And yourself.
“You look like you had a bad day and not me” Leon comments, raising an eyebrow before his thumb tugs on the corner of your lips - smile. You had a bad day forever, your day can’t be compared to whatever he had today. His voice is sweet, but condescending, like he knows what is better for you. Leon doesn’t know shit.
“I don’t think you have reasons to be upset, huh? Your life is easy, baby” He snaps his fingers. Like an order. “pretty smile for me, no one likes grumpy girls”
“You are fucking sick… you know that?” Words spill out quickly and mindlessly, ignoring his distorted expression - you just want him to be in pain. Like you are. There is a hint of fear in your voice, subconsciously aware of what is going to happen after your words. “… you KIDNAPPED ME and you want me to play along with this act?…” A bittersweet pause. Adrenaline rushes through your blood, like after a good shot of vodka. “That’s fucking smart… asshole”
A hard swallow, trying to ignore the growing lump in your throat. Anxiety. This time, your voice is much quieter, you feel so small. Involuntarily shrinking away to shield yourself from what is coming. “I hate you”
There is an uncomfortable silence and his face is not blurry anymore - it is the only thing you can see right now. There is no slap, which is worse, silence is much scarier than a reaction cause you need to know what is going on in his head. You should have stayed silent instead, maybe Leon was right - you can’t stop but back talk and try to get yourself into trouble. You got yourself into this, not him.
Maybe an apology… wouldn’t it be late? Would it save? God, you MESSED this up. There is no way back.
His eyebrows furrowed, looking down at you with a clear discontent painting on his face, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks - uncomfortably keeping you still. This time being pretty and batting your eyelashes like a dumb doll is not going to save you.
“You are so spoiled. No one likes ungrateful bitches like you” Leon shakes his head, not giving a space to you to talk back again. “I buy you pretty things, I spend my time and money on you… and you repay me like that?”
He tilts your head, the grip is bruising, almost. Leon doesn’t give you flowers, but bruises look like them quite enough. His words hit you like a slap, making you feel like there is something tremendously wrong with you, not with him.
“Is it so hard to play nice and stay pretty for me?” He adds with a raised eyebrow. His thumb caresses your lower lip, playing and tugging it down, before pushing the digit past your soft and tender lips.
“And quiet.” He tsked, feeling warm saliva clinging to his thumb as it pressed down onto your tongue. Lucky for Leon, one of his wishes is accomplished - you can’t really talk, only muffled words, while your mouth is occupied with his digit. He keeps the grip on your jaw, before replacing it with two fingers. Pointer and middle finger. You are so pretty when you keep your mouth shut or around his fingers. Or dick. The latter is much preferable.
Your mouth is always warm, inviting, and wet. Hard to hide how such act affects you, your breathing catches in your chest, as his fingers keep rubbing the front of your tongue - messy and slick, not wetter than your cunt right now. Your mouth can not be compared to your pussy though, it has much more pros than disadvantages, the only con is the lack of wetness sometimes. Not something unfixable at the end of the day, a spit or lube (if he is in a good mood) can fix anything.
Your eyes are closed, feeling his other hand keeping your head pointed up where he can see you. To be honest, you don’t really know if you are just trying to illude yourself and hide from the truth - both options are useless, they bring you back to him. Every time his fingers are in your mouth, keeping you quiet and forcing you to suck on them - your pussy gets wet quickly like it is connected to your throat. His fingers delve deeper, moving in and out slowly. You can’t help yourself. Your clit throbs uncomfortably, urging you to do something about this, and your inner walls flutter around nothing - your mind reminds you of how good his dick feels. You probably look so pitiful to him, your eyes reflect well what your body begs for while drooling around his fingers.
Your thighs try to snap close, to rub them together and get that sweet-sweet stimulation, but they end up straddling his hips tighter - feeling the outline of his hard cock press against the damp and thin material of your underwear. It isn’t a big obstacle right now, the burning heat can be felt easily. A choked whine escapes from your mouth, realizing that his pants are still on him.
“Uh-huh, you want my attention?” Leon asks, not trying to be subtle with his tone, laced with mocking sweetness. His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, leaving a trail of droll connecting you both. It is so empty without him filling your senses. His eyebrows curl up, glaring down on you like at kicked puppy. He mocks you, another squirming heat crawls in your cunt. Embarrassingly wet, dripping, and staining his jeans with your slick. God, you ARE getting off when he is being patronizing with you. “You ruined my day, baby. Do you really think you deserve anything right now?”
Your mind is screaming at you to do something, you need that relief. His cock. Anything that will fill the emptiness inside you with pleasure. You shiver when his fingers brush across the hem of your underwear, clearly amused by how wet you are. They push aside the fabric, already wet by your saliva - slowly stroking your drenching folds. So warm and puffy, even the light touch of his fingers on your clit makes your body jolt like you are in pain.
“Leon…” Your voice sounds cloying, it goes straight to his hard dick, as you look under your eyelashes at his face - it makes you feel dumb. Any sentences or words are thrown away into the bin under his glare, he doesn’t even try hard to make you feel like that, there is no need cause you are dumb. And you ache for his cock, ignoring alarms in your head. You are just a dumb, aching doll.
And his. He told you that.
“What?” Leon pressed, already withdrew his fingers from your cunt, wanting to see you more desperate. Your hips try to grind against his hard cock, to get a light stimulation. You stay silent, words aren’t enough to formulate what swirls in your mind. Somewhat, his presence and words are always tied to that deep feeling of owing him something. What? Not clear, but it is still here, even if his cock empties your mind.
You are still his after the dramatics you pulled, right?
You swallow hard, the sight of his unmoving hand on the belt makes your cunt painfully ache, ignoring your mind screaming at you to hit him. You don’t deserve this, it whispers. The guilty part of your brain won a long time ago, it overwhelms that soothing reminder - canceling it completely - you need to hurry up him. You are at fault, it whispers. “…Please…” Forgive me, I need you.
You gasp as in rasp motion he changes your position, shoving you and you end up with your back pressed down flatly on the soft material of the couch, while Leon hovers over you. And he kisses your forehead, with the same tenderness and affection he has given you before - like a couple, married couple on honeymoon. Your mind misses the bullseye with this conclusion, but whatever helps, right? The spot burns hot, as a reminder that you have to please him.
Clink-clink! It snaps you out of your thoughts. The sound of his belt makes your skin crawl, and more slick pools in between your thighs like at the unvoiced command. You try to buck your hips up, only to end up restrained by his hand - it grips tightly your flesh, in a bruising hold, and the signs will bloom into another purplish collection in the morning. His hand pins your hips down, - silently denying the control over your pleasure. Couldn’t be even wetter at this point.
It isn’t really visible, but his breathless sigh signaled you that his hand is, probably, wrapped around his cock. You squirm, to prop yourself to look down and maybe get comfier - again, he pushes you down with a head shake.
Your legs shake when his cock presses up in between your drenching folds, the slick clings to the skin, and his cock head nudges against your aching clit. And this hits so good too, his hard cock slides across your cunt. You can’t help but let your hips buck up back, again - to get your own control on the pleasure. Tsk. Your attempt gets easily interrupted again, as his hand pushes your hips down. His cock gets harder after every slow and agonizing rut, the wet sounds of your slick pressing and smearing his cock is like music to his ears. No wonder it is so easy to get lost, thank god your attempts to worm out of his grip snap him out of that pleasure.
You are so impatient. But for Leon, sex is so much simpler, cause he is a simple man. With age many things change, they get uncomplicated. Of course, Leon likes good stuff; tasty good, keeping you pretty, watching how your tits bounce with every thrust and feeling your flesh under his hands, how you react to him. But the sex isn’t the lovemaking or a way to satisfy you, for him, it would be useless to keep you here then. There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is so close to lose touch with after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. Life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Every time he sees you so confused, depending on him - he can’t lie, it makes his cock jolt. He wants to see every little expression on your face, - desperation, affection, confusion, misery, everything - to etch the sight into his memory.
“Baby, you don’t know what’s good for you..” Leon says, there is no answer from you and he doesn’t really need one. His eyes are focused on his cock nudging your hole before slowly pressing in - now watching your spasming and drenching hole swallows his cock. And you gasp.
Without fingers, without any preparation, but wet as hell, you still feel tight as sin. It is easier to get through though. The velvet softness of your fluttering cunt is addicting as your walls clench around him in a vice grip with every inch pushed inside.
It is dizzying how your mind empties together with your body, any remains of conflict regarding this situation is gone. Focusing on how his cock stretches your walls, leaving you breathless and trembling at the slow-filling sensation in your cunt. Your hands creep to rest on his shoulders to keep yourself steady.
His cock pushes through, until its tip presses against your cervix - he is deep inside, his hips nestled right against your ass - and your pussy is so overwhelmingly full, for a moment you forgot how to breathe.
“That’s okay” Leon cooed again. His hand brushes across the skin of your collarbone, caressing it. Burns and you are hot, to the point his touch felt cold. You shiver, his hand is always pleasant to feel, but at the same, the feeling of it is accompanied by something else, you can’t ever catch it. It is brief but always gives you awareness.
Your chest rises up and down unsteadily, looking probably pathetic right now as his hips start moving. Already overwhelmed without a way out.
“Awww, you are just a dumb thing, not knowing anything better” Leon drawls with an amused smirk.
The pace is set, rhythmically rocking against you, using your cunt like a toy. You want to roll your own hips back, to do something but today isn’t your day. You already forgot about your earlier lash-out, as the only sounds reaching your ears are flesh-hitting ones mixed with your moans. His lips are parted on a soft stream of pants.
“N-no..” This attempt of protest slips out easily from your mouth, without giving too much thought into what may happen. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. His hand creeps higher, to rest on your neck in a loose grip, a silent warning perhaps. Pretty faces don’t need to do anything other than being pretty, but tonight you let your mouth slip out too often.
The hand on your hip pushes it down again, the grip hurts actually. Feels like there are already bruises forming and he is clearly not pleased with you. He isn’t at all, your comments ruin his fun. They distract him from your tight pussy, how hot it is, and engulf him, begging him to thrust ruthlessly and fill you.
Unspoken rule, you should be silent and let him use your cunt without other noises than incoherent moans.
“Oh, no-no” Leon mocks you, a sharp, unexpected thrust, his cock head grinds against your cervix. To punctuate his words his grip on your throat tightens. Or you are imagining this? Another thrust, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hips start dragging his cock out of you, then he pushes it back deep inside. “I know what’s better for you.”
Every deep thrust into your spasming cunt, your thighs shake, and muscles in your body flex every time your hips connect. And his hand squeezes your throat, you can clearly feel the outlines of his fingers on the skin of your throat. God, is the grip getting tighter? Is he trying to cut the air? This fills your body with panic; it writhes even more, ignoring the painful grip on your hip and becoming more aware of the one that’s getting tighter around your neck.
Yeah, he is angry at you.
“Doll, you brought this… on yourself” Leon whispers breathlessly, watching your expression twist with a mix of pleasure and fear. Your hands travel from his shoulders to his wrist, nails dig into its flesh. “don’t resist”
His hand angles your hip better, losing the rhythm of the pace as his cock pounds into you in quick and deep thrusts. It hits your g-spot too, but the lack of air is the biggest of your worries right now. Your cunt flutters, getting tighter with the less air incoming, and more tingly wave of sensation rides over your body. The tips of your fingers feel weird, and your entire body starts to drown in numbness. It is weirdly pleasant but at the same time scary. Deep down you like it, not realizing it.
“Come on,” Leon grunts, his grip on your neck doesn’t lessen, and you try to focus on something else other than the possibility of passing out. Your walls clench around his dick tighter, and your mouth opens uselessly as a dumb fish trying to speak, but the only sound coming out is a muffled one.
“If you are so smart… fuck…” He moans, you feel so good, your walls clenched tight around his dragging cock and your body is so easily letting him use your pussy. He can get drunk on it. “…use your big mouth”
His grip tightens, and another choked moan tries to drawl out of your mouth. Nothing comes out other than a quiet, pathetic mewl. It feels like you are going to die.
“Use your filthy and smart mouth” He taunts again, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. His hips thrust into you in rough and hard movements. It feels like just his presence is overfilling you. Maybe the lack of oxygen is to blame. “or you can only use it for my dick.. huh? Like a whore, not a doll”
“A…m, S-s” I am sorry. You try your best, but it is hard to do multitasking when your head is so lightheaded and his dick inside you feels so good. Your body feels numb like it doesn’t belong to you anymore, writhing and squirming every time his cockhead hit your cervix - a pang of tingling mixture, something so new and pleasurable, but at the same time foreign, with the hint of pain. But it is a delicious kind of hurt, toe-curling one.
You are going to pass out, trying to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth and your nails dig into the skin of his bicep - begging, unawarely your eyes sprinkle with tears. “S-..sor-r—” This is your best attempt.
Orgasm has always been different with him, it is warm, still keeping your turmoil. This time it is crushing, but feels shorter than it was actually. It hits your body unexpectedly, filling to the brim with the feeling of his cock spouting cum inside you, while every patch of your skin is numb and burning hot.
Confusing your mind more when his hand slipped away, so close to pass out and the quick rush of air fills your lungs almost choking you, overwhelming the pleasure of your own orgasm. You are so sensitive, at the brink of tears - not having any strength to keep them in, they easily well in your eyes, blurring even more the vision before rolling down. It doesn’t hit like it should cause you are too focused on the fading numbness and shaking while inhaling the air - unreasonably afraid(to Leon) that he is going to take it away again. Breathing feels much better than sex, right now at least.
He pulls out his dick, and his cum slowly oozes out of your hole, while you are still recovering. Not hiding where his gaze is directed. It is hypnotizing, urging him to shove it back into you with his fingers and keep his cum inside you for a little bit longer. You snap him out of this trance with your sobbing and incoherent words.
“I am so—sorry!” You sob, tugging onto the fabric of his black shirt to pull him closer to you. Seeking comfort in him, you don’t have any other options. He can’t deny this to you, his arm wraps around your shoulders. And even if you had other choices, still you would crawl back to Leon. “I was mistaken… I am so-so sorry. It was a mistake!”
God, you shake like a leaf right now. He huffs as if your words were the most obvious thing. Like the sky is blue or two plus two is four. It is hard to push you away, the trembling and teared-up mess. Leon enjoys that.
“There you are, baby. I got it” Leon sighs, the crease in between his eyebrows deepens. His hand brushes away your hair from your face, to get a better glance of your state. Mistake. Everything is a mistake here - your presence, getting off only of him, texting him first, and letting him take you on dates. Leon can’t help, but chuckle. “Of course. Indeed a mistake, doll”
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy fanfic#resident evil#leon x reader#leon s kennedy x y/n#resident evil x you#leon s kennedy fanfic#resident evil fanfiction
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THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.
word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3
a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a44406f1b1bb5019198374cff07c5af9/cf922bcd1d1ebce7-8d/s540x810/ec4959be6e8d52e039d1296513846fc3325d6b46.jpg)
”— no.”
the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.
but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.
”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”
”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”
”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”
”not happening.”
”but —”
”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”
it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him.
but giving in just isn’t an option, this time.
under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.
(his happiness is your priority, after all.)
but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.
he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.
”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”
a sharp scoff flows from your lips.
he can’t be serious.
you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.
— it’s so frilly.
you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice.
it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week.
every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.
from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.
(this made me think of you. i want you to have it.
i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)
a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him.
buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could.
(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)
which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package —
to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.
— and then your mind screeched to a halt.
the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —
you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit.
if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards.
but no — he wanted you to wear it.
and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.
”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”
”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.
”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?”
sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.
the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.
a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too.
”— because you love me?”
satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.
and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly.
valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”
”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?”
(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)
”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”
satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble —
until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.
”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.
”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.
and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak —
but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.
satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.
and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer.
”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?”
attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly.
it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows.
”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”
”an hour? no way!” you scoff.
and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.
”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”
”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”
”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”
oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t.
not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love.
another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”
satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”
a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”
”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”
another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”
satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”
a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.
”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”
”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”
the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.
”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”
he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.
(even if you don’t.)
and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all.
and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.
— a sigh.
you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant.
… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this…
and if it’s just for a short while…
silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.
”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”
”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate.
and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.
”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry.
he looks so earnestly giddy.
eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.
(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)
”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.
”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.
a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…
”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.
”really? i think it’s cute, though.”
”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”
satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.
you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”
”— i’m taking pictures.”
…
the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.
”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”
”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”
stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.
”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”
you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”
”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.
(what have you gotten yourself into?)
with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”
”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”
”yeah, yeah…”
the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.
(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)
and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings.
it’s a perfect fit.
a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.
after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit.
and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.
it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves.
and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute.
still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.
(what the hell are you even doing?)
a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?
(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?)
”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.
”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”
satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.
(all he can think of is you, you, you.)
curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.
you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.
when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.
”… i don’t want to.”
satoru pauses.
he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.
”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”
you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”
a moment passes.
”… do i have to?”
the corners of his lips curl up.
ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”
a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.
until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.
it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.
(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)
there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together.
and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.
after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”
— but satoru doesn’t answer.
he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.
the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear.
(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected.
still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.)
”… why aren’t you saying anything?”
the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet.
he’s completely stunned.
no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck.
and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.
crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.
”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy.
upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.
— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.
it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.
god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.
crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal.
even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.
and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears.
yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.
he’s so cute.
(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)
so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.
and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.
”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”
satoru stiffens.
(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)
slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle.
with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration.
satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.
a moment passes. then two.
then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.
”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”
a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look.
a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.
all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.
evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression.
”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.”
squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear.
a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”
”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.
”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”
a huff, lighthearted.
suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.
your heart flutters.
satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet.
”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”
a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”
”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”
before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.
”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”
a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”
satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.
(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)
”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all.
it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.
”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips.
”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins.
then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.
his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin.
(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)
then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.
his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin.
”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.
he’s so annoying.
(but you’re far too in love to say no.)
so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.
satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.
when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.
”cutie.”
you blink.
averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.
”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”
suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”
”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”
”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.
”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile.
”and then we’re burning it.”
”noooo!”
”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.
”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”
”that’s kinda the point, toru.”
”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”
he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.
”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”
a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”
”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”
”at lil’ old me? really?”
”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”
satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”
a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”
a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.
”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”
”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”
”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”
and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible.
satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.
in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there.
eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.
satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful —
and yours, wholly and thoroughly.
(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…
what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)
#satoru ”my girl look so good today im abt to scream and moan and throw up” gojo#he is so husband coded to me. so unbelievably babygirl#he would absolutely wear a maid dress if u asked him to btw. and he would rock that shit so hard.#just……. gojo in a dress………….. breathe if u agree#im a firm believer in flustered satoru also…..#it wouldnt happen often but if u act cute enough i just think smth in his brain stops working#and he grins rly wide and tries to cover his face w his hands so you wont see how much hes blushing. if u tease him more he squeaks#who said that.#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk#gojo fluff#jjk fluff
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your next partner (PAC)
hello beautiful creatures! i'm excited to be back with another pick-a-card reading. i've been feeling romantic lately, so here goes a reading regarding your next partner. hope you enjoy it!
as usual, pick the picture that you feel most connected or drawn towards (pile 1 - up and left / pile 2 - up and right / pile 3 - down and left / pile 4 - down and right)
happy reading!
#pile 1
wheel of fortune - eight of wands - knight of cups - six of swords - seven of coins
when i started to shuffle for this pile’s reading, “so high school” by taylor swift started playing, so maybe that means something to you. although this is a person i think you’ve known for a while, the wheel of fortune here shows a new stage of this relationship, and paired with the eight of wands this shows a period of excitement, passion - the typical honeymoon phase we all go through once we start a relationship. maybe you have been through a rough period emotionally, things haven’t been great for either one of you, and here comes a calmer time, you’ll have someone to rely on that’ll help you with all the love in the world. this relationship seems ideal, but there are a few cards here that advice making an effort to communicate correctly with each other.
when i asked about the appearance of this person i got freckles! i also see that this person has a baby face or is a pretty childish person, someone with a lot of energy. i feel like they have lighter hair as well. you can also expect this to happen literally at any moment now! this is something that is already happening and in the works.
#pile 2
the hanged man - queen of cups - knight of cups - six of coins - nine of cups
“only love” by ben howard started playing when i started writing, and i feel like that’s how this connection feels like! this is someone new in your life, and your day to day will start to feel like this song. with the hanged man opening this reading i feel like this is someone who came in to change your perspective and opinions about love, and even about self love - but this card also tells you to be patient and advises not to rush into new relationships without being sure first, as not everyone will fit you. love is definitely on the horizon, just wait for it to come to you, as someone who is willing to listen to you and that will offer you all the attention you need is on the way. the six of pentacles here is asking you to give without expecting anything back, it advises you to be generous with yourself and the universe will be generous to you as well! a strong connection is coming
when i asked about this person i got the five of coins, so this is probably someone who has gone through hard times and knows that feeling cared for is important. this is someone who has dark eyes, probably darker skinned as well.
when i asked for timing, i saw that the winter time may be of significance, but this still may take a while to come to you.
#pile 3
two of swords - ace of cups - six of coins - queen of swords - five of swords
wow, you may be indecisive regarding a relationship or taking a new step into a relationship, and you may be looking for advice. i think that this relationship has a great potential of being a safe space, somewhere you’ll feel loved and supported. you may be indecisive because you don’t want to lose your independence - but your partner understands how that is important to you and will respect it. there’s an emphasis on the important of communication, as you may have problems due to a lack of it, and what i see here is that you’re struggling to make things official because you’re afraid - talk to them! have the scary conversation. they understand.
when i asked about appearance i got the emperor, which makes me think this is a person who has a lot of authority. i also think they’re someone with dark eyes but lighter hair.
timing wise, regarding having a conversation or taking a new step, i’d say something will shift within the next ten days or the next two weeks.
#pile 4
three of coins - three of wands - six of cups - king of coins - page of wands
i think someone you’ve had a crush on has looked your way! someone you’ve liked for a while is now noticing you in a romantic light, or maybe someone you tried to have a relationship with in the past is back. whoever this person is, they’re not 100% committed to you, they want to be your one and only. you may feel sparks, have a lot of passion and fun with this person, but you need to avoid being clingy or too jealous of this person, reminding you both how everyone needs space. the three of wands is an amazing card here, as it shows you good luck on your romantic choices.
i think this person takes a great care of their appearance, especially their hair.
i think this is going to become official in a few month, maybe around pisces season.
hope you enjoyed reading!
#astrology#astro notes#astrology observations#astro observations#astrology notes#zodiac#timeless pac#tarot pac#pac reading#pac#pick a pile#pick a card reading#pick a card#romantic pac#romantic pick a card
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Reckless and sweet
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What if you are equally in love with two guys and really can’t choose? You date them both. But when Taehyung and Jungkook find out about you playing them, they decide to dick you down together, you were the one greedily taking two dicks anyway, so what’s the problem?
Contains: attempt at porn with plot, implication that fortune tellers don’t work, reader will get caught so prepare for some feelings of anxiety, fear, etc, the guys tease reader when she’s caught, reader is dating them both without them knowing, text AU mixed with story writing, reader is a cute coquette girly, some angst, reader will have sex with both guys
Smut JK: Missionary, pussy licking and fingering, his face in her pussy
Smut Tae: riding, boobplay, from behind
Smut both: taking turns, blowjobs, missionary, reader is told she has a slutty face, dirty talk, they both cum in her, boobplay
Admin note: make sure to open the images, tumblr might crop some of the convos
“What brings you here, dear?”
"I can't choose between two guys. I… need help."
The fortune teller nodded knowingly, her fingers shuffling the tarot cards. "The cards will guide us," she said, spreading them out in a maze like pattern. "Let us see what the future holds for your heart."
You watched the fortune teller as she turned over the cards, one by one, the flickering lantern light illuminating each card. "There it is.” She tapped the card. “This card stands for “soulmate” and in combination with this card, it leads to…” Her hand inched closer to the two photos you had laid out. "I see, I see. This card shows that this young man is the one for you." She tapped on the photo. "The cards don't lie."
"Oh…” You slumped into your chair, a little disappointed.
“You seem disappointed, were you hoping for the other man?”
“No, that’s… not it. It’s nothing.”
Why tell her that this is your fifth attempt today to consult a fortune teller? And that everyone gave you a different story.
You stood up and paid her for her service. "Thank you for your help, Madam. I will take your words into consideration."
You weren’t a bad person, really. You didn't seek Taehyung and Jungkook out with the intention to cheat on them; all you desired was an unbiased answer, just a little something to ease your indecisiveness and help you decide. But… the results of all the tarot readings were inconclusive.
Your best friend told you to pick already and not lead them on any longer.
But that was easier said than done.
Your best friend wouldn’t understand, she isn’t you, she doesn’t experience the guys the same way you do— you were convinced if she had the same predicament that she would do the same thing you did.
But she didn’t have the same predicament, she had her soulmate already. So, you wouldn’t expect her to understand.
You stared at the phone in your hand, your thumb hovering over the texting app that will connect you to either Taehyung or Jungkook.
Which would it be?
You let out a sigh, putting the phone down.
Why did this have to be so difficult? You couldn’t recall the last time you had to make such a damned difficult decision.
Then, the doorbell rang, ripping you out of your focus. You got up and headed for the door, and once you opened the door, you were met by the delivery driver.
"Good evening, Miss. I have a package for you."
"Thank you.” You accepted the package and closed the door. You looked at the package and noted that the sender was Kim Taehyung.
“Gosh, he’s so sweet.” You smiled. He knew that you had been feeling blue lately and must’ve decided that he wanted to cheer you up a bit.
But if he knew the reason for why you were down, he would’ve probably smashed and broken this present in a thousand pieces.
You opened the package, carefully, not wanting to rip the packaging, and took out the present inside.
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It didn’t take long for you and Jungkook to retreat to the bedroom after you arrived at his place, and you were soon lying naked on his bed, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy, his fingers buried deep inside you. Your legs shook with anticipation, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hands tangled in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.
“I love how wet you get for me. All soaked and ready to be fucked," Jungkook flicked your clit with his tongue, before he moved away and started to pump his errection. His fingers were still inside of you, his fingers curling and hitting that sensitive spot deep within.
"O-oh!” Your body curved along with his movements.
“Yeah? That’s a nice spot, hm? Like it right there, feels good there?”
You could only nod, your voice trapped in your throat.
Jungkook continued to finger you, his thumb circling your clit, and you felt your orgasm build up. However, before you could hit your climax, Jungkook pulled away, and replaced his fingers with something much better.
He slowly thrust into you, filling you up, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "Ah, fuck."
You were a moaning mess underneath him, your eyes closing as the pleasure intensified. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. The both of you didn’t speak; simply enjoying each other's bodies connecting.
Jungkook's thrusts increased in speed and power and you could feel the familiar coil tighten again, your body arching as you cried out.
"Close, close…” You panted.
"Come, baby. Let it all out," he whispered in your ear, leaving kisses on your neck.
That was all you needed, and your orgasm came crashing down, a loud moan slipping from your lips.
Jungkook wasn’t far behind, riding out your waves of orgasm until he, too, came.
After the sex, Jungkook went to the kitchen to prepare dinner and you stayed in bed for a few minutes, and decided to check your phone for any notifications, and you saw a message from your best friend.
You joined Jungkook in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island as you watched him cook. His broad shoulders and toned back faced you, and he was only wearing his joggers which he put on after the sex.
It was a nice distraction from the earlier chat you had with Ara. Part of you thought that you went too far, but another part of you felt like it was justified to respond the way that you did. She was constantly pushing you to choose already, but she failed to realize just how difficult it was for you to choose. Both men were absolutely perfect and there was zero fault in them… and that was the whole problem. You had waited for one of them to mess up; to start an argument with you, tell you they were an ex felon, kick a puppy, yell at a service worker, shove an old lady… ANYTHING. But their faults never came, not once have they slipped up and made you think that you wanted to break up with them.
Ara's words played over and over again in your mind.
You are doing this to protect both men's hearts. Yes, that's it.
“Babe?” Jungkook's voice interrupted your thoughts, and you realized that you were staring at the table. He had set the plate in front of you and sat opposite of you, but he noticed you neither acknowledged the food or him. “You okay?”
You blinked and looked up, seeing the concerned look on his face. You managed a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry… I just was thinking of something.”
Jungkook was smart enough to know that something was bothering you, so he didn’t let go, and pressed; “What’s going on?”
You hesitated, looking down at your food, pushing the noodles around with the chopsticks.
Jungkook reached across the table and held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Just... tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."
You looked up at him. Your expression softened, and you sighed, deciding that you needed to tell him what was going on.
"Well..." You started, your heart pounding against your chest. “I was speaking with my best friend and…” You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell him the truth. You were really going to do this, weren’t you? It felt somewhat… relieving to do this. No more sneaking, no more having two accounts, no lying or cheating anymore.
“She disapproves of our relationship because we are moving too fast.”
You couldn’t do it.
You were such a coward.
“Oh, I am sorry babe, what do you think? Are we moving too fast? I mean, we are in a good place right now, right?” Jungkook asked.
You felt a little bad for making him worry, so you shook your head and gave him a smile.
"We are in a good place. Don't worry about it, she's just worried and doesn't know you."
"Should I meet her?” Jungkook asked.
“Meet who?”
“Your friend, silly.”
Oh boy. If he was meeting her, there was no telling what could happen. What if Ara ran her mouth? What if she told him everything? What if she messed up? No… it was too risky.
“She’s… an exchange student abroad, but if she ever visits home, I’ll let you know, and we can meet up. How about that?"
The lies just kept piling up…
“I missed you.” You murmured against his lips.
“I missed you too.” Taehyung deepened the kiss, his hands slipping underneath your shirt. His touch made your skin tingle and your stomach flutter, his hands were warm and big and his fingers spread over your back, pressing you closer against his chest.
“Did you?” You asked, between kisses.
Taehyung smiled, his tongue caressing your lips, before it slipped into your mouth. You let out a moan, your hands running up his toned arms.
His hands trailed further up, cupping your breasts and you gasped, breaking the kiss, but he didn't give you time to breathe, his mouth capturing yours again. His tongue was dancing with yours and you were left breathless when he eventually broke the kiss, his hands kneading your breasts.
“Mhm, I did. A lot. You are always on my mind. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, during work, when I am working out, in the shower, even when I eat, you are always on my mind, y/n"
His confession made your heart explode, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks, you didn’t expect that answer.
Taehyung took your hand and placed it on his groin. "See what you do to me, hm?" He said with a smile.
Soon, you were riding his cock, his errection peeking through the open gap in his pants, and your panties dangled onto your ankles as you rode him. His hips on your waist and he was guiding your body, making you move the way he wanted.
"I love it when you fuck yourself on my cock," he grunted. “Keep going, love.”
And that you did, until you physically weren’t able to anymore, and Taehyung took over, laying you down onto the bed, and you laid on your stomach, your hips propped up with a pillow as he started to fuck you from behind.
You couldn’t help the cries escaping your mouth, as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with precision. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, your face buried into the mattress.
His hands were on your waist, holding you steady as he fucked you senseless, and you could hear his heavy breathing. Then, one last pump, and he came first, letting out a deep groan.
He slowed down for a moment, before riding out his orgasm in you, until you came. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, and you whimpered and cried around his cock, and as you laid there trembling, you asked yourself; how were you ever supposed to choose between them?
It didn’t matter.
You didn't want to choose between them.
You couldn’t choose between them.
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And like that, time passed by. The two of them showered you with gifts, attention, love, and affection nonstop, every day. You were constantly on the fence, debating whether you should stop or not… but it all just felt too good, you couldn’t imagine life without either of them.
The snow crunched underneath your feet, the cold air brushing against your skin as you walked through the snow covered park, and it was getting colder by the minute. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your coat to keep you warm.
“Are you cold?” Taehyung asked, at which you nodded. He took your hands and held them. “Do you want to go in the Gondola lift?” He nodded his head in the direction of the ski lifts, and you glanced over.
“Yes, that looks fun, let’s!” You followed him, holding his hand. You stood in the queue for a few minutes, wrapping your arms around Taehyung and resting your head against his chest as you snuggled up to him.
Soon, it was your turn and Taehyung held the door open and you scooted right next to the window, glancing out. The view wasn’t that noteworthy yet but you were sure that would change soon.
“There, now we are all together. The three of us."
Huh? You turned your head and looked at him. Taehyung stepped in, and sat next to you, and you noticed the other man standing in the doorway.
Jungkook.
A pang of happiness temporarily shot through your chest, you had missed him and you loved seeing him again, but then a realization dawned on you; they knew about each other.
And that realization quickly morphed into fear, and your heart began to pound.
You were caught.
You jumped up and tried to make a run for the door, but Taehyung grabbed your wrist and pulled you down, forcing you back down on the bench. “You’re staying right here.”
“N-no, I want to go, no!”
Your gaze flickered back and forth between them, and you felt like a trapped animal, your body frozen as your mind ran wild.
Jungkook locked the door behind him and sat down to your left, while Taehyung sat on your right; you were sandwiched in between them.
No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.
“Why are you so shy all of a sudden, babe? Usually you are so talkative, aren’t you?" Jungkook mocked.
Your eyes filled with tears, and you lowered your gaze, ashamed. Afraid to look them in the eyes.
“Don’t you like our surprise? We prepared it all for you, love.” Taehyung placed a hand on the back of your neck, his touch causing you to flinch, and he forced you to look at him. “I thought you wanted us both, and now that we are here, you refuse to talk to us? Is that how it is?"
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. "Answer him," Jungkook's tone was icy, and your body shook, you were petrified, unsure of what they would do to you. And just like that, you kept your gaze on your lap, and you managed to not say a word all the way back to the end point of the ski lift ride. At the end of the ride, Jungkook and Taehyung guided you back to the cabin, where things between the three of you would change forever.
“If you want two cocks so bad, then fucking take them both.”
You were on your knees, in between the two of them, as they took turns thrusting their dicks into your mouth, one after the other. Their moans filled the room, along with the occasional gagging sound that you made.
Your body was in overdrive; it was as if your brain couldn’t comprehend that your two favorite men in the world were face fucking you both right now.
You didn’t expect it but… you were soaking wet.
“That’s it, show Taehyung how we always do it when he’s not around, don’t be shy baby.”
Taehyung pulled his cock out, and now Jungkook was the one in your mouth. You drooled over his cock, and his hand rested on the back of your head, pushing himself further inside, his errection hitting the back of your throat.
Taehyung took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, and you started to rub him off as you continued to suck Jungkook off. The two men groaned as they hovered over you, and you didn’t think you could hold it any longer.
“I’m wet, really wet, need cock, please.”
At that, Taehyung pulled you onto your feet and picked you up, before laying you down on the bed.
“Wet? Show us then, babe.” Taehyung cooed, pulling your clothes off you, and now Jungkook was in the room as well. “Spread those legs, show us how wet you really are. Do you need cock?"
"Yes, yes, please!" You spread your legs wide, exposing yourself to them, and having both of their eyes set on your pussy made you even wetter.
"This pussy is so greedy, and so fucking needy, it's dripping. Look at that.” Taehyung’s finger lingered down your folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for us.”
Jungkook got onto the bed, deciding he’d be the first to give you what you want; cock. He hovered above you and slipped his cock in, and you moaned as his length filled you up. You wrapped your arms around him, as he thrust in and out.
This must be a dream.
Taehyung placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face to the side, his hardened cock staring right back at you, and you opened your mouth, inviting him in.
Both men fucked you, and your mind was completely blank.
Taehyung chuckled. “Damn, that pussy really is wet huh, those sounds are something else."
You couldn’t reply, as your mouth was stuffed with his cock, but you knew exactly what he meant, the lewd sounds your pussy was making was embarrassing, but also turned you on more and more. Taehyung’s hands trailed to your chest, kneading your tits. “You love it, don’t you? When we both fuck you. That slutty face tells me everything I need to know, and I bet this greedy pussy is going to come all over his cock soon, won’t it?" He pulled out his cock out of your mouth.
“Yes.. love it.” You tilted your head back, your back arching as Jungkook started hitting you in a good spot. “O-oh…”
Taehyung moved next to Jungkook and his tip teased against your swollen clit, the head rubbing against it, and that nearly sent you over the edge.
“A-ah!” You gripped onto the sheets, as the knot in your lower belly tightened, and your body tensed up, your pussy walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock.
“That’s the spot?” Jungkook teased, gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place as he picked up the pace.
“That does seem to be the spot, look at her face, she loves that spot.” Taehyung started to smack your clit with his cock, and that sent you over the edge, the knot in your stomach exploding, and you came all over Jungkook's cock, a loud cry escaping your mouth. As you came, your pussy milked his cock, hard, and he couldn’t last much longer, his cum shooting deep inside of you, Jungkook rocked his hips back and forth and only stopped when he was sure that every seed was spilled inside of you.
Jungkook pulled out, making way for Taehyung, who eagerly lined his cock up to your entrance. Jungkook came to lay down next to you, pressing his lips against yours as Taehyung pushed every inch into you, filling you up again.
"That's it, take that cock, love, Jungkook really warmed up that pussy for me, hm? It's squeezing my cock, so tight."
Taehyung fucked you with fast and deep strokes, his cock sliding in and out with ease as you were soaking wet, drenching the sheets underneath you. Jungkook started to kiss your tits instead of your lips, his tongue swirling around your nipples.
Your body was completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your head thrown back, and your mouth hanging open, your cries filling the room. You felt Taehyung grab your leg and push it over his shoulder, and pull you closer, his cock hitting deeper and faster, and you didn't know how much longer you'd last.
"Please, more, don't stop, don't stop." You begged, your breathing becoming faster.
Jungkook kissed your neck, "Such a greedy pussy, and it loves being fucked, doesn't it?" He grabbed your hand, holding it as you gripped onto it.
"Mhm, it loves it." You whispered, glancing at both men. Oh they were so perfect, they were everything you ever dreamed of, and more.
"Tell him you love it, baby." Jungkook encouraged.
"L-love it, so much, ah, ah…” You whimpered as Taehyung picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down the bed, your tits bouncing all over the place, and it was all too much. You reached your high, another orgasm rushing through your body, and you cried as your pussy clenched around his cock.
"Yes, yes, that’s it…” Taehyung grunted, his pace now slow and deep, wanting to feel your pussy massage his cock and then he finally released himself, his hot seeds filling you up, and he rode out his orgasm, until there was nothing left to give.
“Oh…” You whimpered, turning to your side, completely exhausted, closing your eyes for a moment.
In the end, you didn’t have to choose.
#bts x reader#bts smut#bts smut fanfic#bts fanfic#taehyung smut#jungkook smut#bts x female reader#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x oc#bts smut fic
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Jess Mariano SMUT: The best friend and the boyfriend.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/192b04b07e7f8a0280f9f40fa09e7d96/0683d49a0bc24117-0c/s540x810/95429d0897f845357840b04c5ec67bca9b113e3e.jpg)
POV: Your best friend Rory always gets what she wants as the town’s golden girl. Well, you have had enough and its time you get what you want.
WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni); cheating; rory slander; lorelai slander; p in v intercourse; dirty talk; unprotected sex; light choking - i think that is it
AUTHOR’S NOTE: wasn’t enough jess smut for me on here. Wanna fix that! first time writing anything so please be gentle. 2k+ words
You’re at Luke’s diner trying to get some work done before your exam tomorrow. The wetness inbetween your legs was proving a great distraction to the task at hand. You had to muster every ounce of concentration to listen to what Lane and Rory were saying. The three of you were finishing up your group project for school. You had all been friends for years, but recently you had found it hard to be yourself around them.
The reason for that, was standing behind the counter, serving customers with a surly look and a quippy comment if he spoke at all. Jess.
The whole town knew about him and Rory. How could they not? Stars’ Hollows’ golden girl drew attention wherever she went. Her and Dean’s romance had been the talk of the town - the stuff of young love! And she could do no wrong. Even after she dragged Dean through hell and back with her indecisiveness before ultimately bringing him to breaking point - people still loved her.
And hey - you did too. She was your best friend. But you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the way the town fawned over her. Even though it had been happening your whole lives. Rory and her busybody, try-hard mother were the apple of the town’s eyes. And you were used to it.
But you had been surprised that Jess had fallen for it. When he arrived in town, a sullen and brooding figure, you had immediately felt drawn to him. You could sense his angst. You could feel it vibrating off of him. And lets not pretend like he wasn’t a total smokeshow. He looked like a man.
If only Lorelai and Luke weren’t so close. Then you might have gotten your chance. But as fate had it, and as it always seemed to, Rory got in there first. Lorelai invited Luke and Jess over for a welcome dinner, and he instantly became smitten with Rory’s mild manner. It only took a matter of months - and a breaking of one Dean Forrestor’s heart - until they became an item.
At first it was all rosy. Rory wouldn’t shut up about it. But you could tell. Something wasn’t quite right. Two months passed and Rory would go red every time Jess was brought up, or came to sit with your group at lunch. You asked Rory - genuinely as a friend. She would just mumble and divert the subject. Lane also pressed, but there was no budging Miss Gilmore.
It was only a month ago when you cottoned on to what the problem was. You had been wearing jeans that hugged your ass, and a top that teased just enough of your cleavage to make anyone blush. You bumped into Jess in the hallway at school. As in, physically bumped into him, as he came around the corner. He grabbed onto you out of instinct to apologise.
“Oh hi Y/N. What are you….” His eyes trailed down to your chest. You didn’t notice at first. You thought he was dazed by the surprise interaction.
“Just on my way to Spanish. Señora Castilla is making us do a book report - I’m doing 100 years of Solitude.”
“Hmm” he responded. “That’s one of my favourites. Magical realism, love, scandal - “
And then you clock. His eyes are on your tits. His hand is still on you. On the small of your back.
This man is hungry. He hasn’t been laid or anything of the sort in a while. Or at least since he has been with Rory. Jess wants you. You avert your gaze.
“Jess. I have to go.”
He moved his hand lower, testing the waters. You don’t remove it. You inhaled, trying to retain your morals. You remind yourself: We’re in the middle of the hallway. At school. He is Rory’s boyfriend. Rory is my best friend.
You repeated these over and over to yourself like a mantra, willing yourself to move. After what seems like an eternity, he whispers in your ear: “My car. 10 minutes,” and sauntered away.
And that was how it began. A whole month of some of the steamiest makeout sessions, hottest sex, and best orgasms of your life. Did the secrecy turn you on? Maybe. Did you feel bad for Rory? Perhaps. But were those moments with Jess worth it? Absolutely.
You had to be careful. Not just to avoid Rory and Lane. But Luke couldn’t know either. If he did, he would have gone straight to Lorelai and it would have been a whole thing. It wasn’t worth it. So the two of you would sneak in quickies in his car, behind Miss Patty’s studio, in the AV room at school etc.
But Luke was out tonight. Doing something for Lorelai probably. Who knows. Jess had suggested the two of you take advantage of the situation. He had recently acquired his own room at Luke’s, ever since his uncle had knocked a hole in the wall for him. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t wait to share a bed with him, and take your sweet time worshipping his body.
“Okay Y/N, we’re off. You coming?” Asked Lane.
“Nah, I have a bunch more work to do for my college application. I will see you both tomorrow?”
Rory went over to give Jess a kiss goodbye. You couldn’t help but smirk as you saw him looking at you as she kissed his cheek. The two girls waved goodbye and left the cafe.
The minute they left, Jess pounced on your table. He summoned Cesar to take over his shift and close up.
“Cmon baby” he whispered, taking care not make it look obvious to the other customers what was going on.
You and Jess went up the stairs silently but quickly. The minute you reached the top flight and opened the door into the living quarters, Jess slammed the door shut and pressed you against it.
“Do you know how bad you are? Sitting right next to my girlfriend and giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes all night? It was all i could do not to take you on the table right there.”
His forehead was against yours, his hands cradling your face. All you could see was him. All you could feel was him.
“Such a good boy for restraining yourself,” you cooed, trying lure him into making the first move. Each time you were together, it still felt like new. A game of chicken. Who would break first? Fresh and dangerous, yet familiar and comforting all at once. “It must have been so hard for you” you said, moving your hand towards his crotch. “Show me how much you want me” you dared.
It was too much for him. He growled and leant in to kiss you with everything he had. He was messy and sloppy with need. His teeth clashed against yours. You moaned with need. Your hands wandered to your waist, dipping under your trousers, then your panties. You started playing with your clit and panting his name back into his mouth.
You were still against the door. Jess moved his hands under your shirt, finding the valley of your chest easily as you hadn’t worn a bra today.
“Fuck” he said, breaking the kiss. “You had your tits out all day baby girl? You are such a slut, wanting everyone to notice.”
Before you could begin to formulate a reply, his mouth was on your left nipple. You sighed as he sucking with such fervour. Just as you got used to the sensation enough to say something witty to him, he bit down hard. You yelped - this was a new move from him. He obviously felt emboldened by the new setting, being in his own territory and out of a car.
Jess went to your right nipple, sucking and making the most obscene slurping noise and his hand went to your other tit. It was too much. It felt too good. You started playing with your clit with even more until he finally noticed.
“That’s my job Y/N. Its not like you to be so selfish!“ he scolded. He grabbed both your wrists and pressed himself into you, letting you feel his bulge. You whimpered at the loss of your fingers inside your wet cunt and pouted at him. He brought your fingers to your mouth.
“Suck” he said, with a devious glint in his eyes. Like a fucking wet wipe, you did as he said. You were embarrassed at first, but didn’t care. You would do anything he said at this point.
When he was satisfied you had fully cleaned your fingers, he took them out your mouth and kissed you hard and hungrily on the lips.
You saw you opportunity to the turn the tables, to take power. “Jess?” You asked innocently.
“Hmm?” He responded, trailing kisses down your neck.
“The whole point of tonight is that we have a bed for once. Let’s make the most of it.” You pushed him off you and took his hand. You walked past the door to his bedroom. He stopped you and looked at you confused.
“Oh Jess. I don’t wanna be fucked in your single bed. I want to feel all of you” you whispered in his ear, guiding him to Luke’s room and king-sized bed.
His eyes widened with realisation and need. Was this a bad idea? Almost certainly. Did he care? At this point, not even wild horses could stop him from having you. He would do anything you said. And he had to admit, there was something hot about doing it somewhere he shouldn’t.
You pushed Jess onto Luke’s bed, unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. His cock sprung up immediately. It was red, throbbing and angry. You couldn’t help but drool. Jess saw this and smirked. He knew what he did to you. He pulled off his shirt, knowing it would drive you crazy.
You dived onto his cock, unable to wait any longer. You took all of him in his mouth, as he held your head there. His pubic hair tickled your nose. You stayed there for as long as possible, until your eyes watered. You took your head off, wiped your mouth, and then began bobbing up and down slowly.
Jess propped himself up on his elbows, watching you like a hawk. His tongue was sticking out as he concentrated his breathing to stop himself from blowing his load. His dark curls were pressed wet against his forehead as beads of sweat started to roll down his face.
You moved to his balls, gently sucking them into your mouth while your hand moved up and down on his rock hard member. He started moaning and rocked his hips into your hands, desperate for more.
You had him right where you wanted him. You removed yourself from him completely and clambered to sit on top of him. His cock was nestled in your folds. So close to where he wanted to be. So close to where you wanted him to be. But you decided the chase was more fun. You lowered yourself down, so that your tits were pressed against his chest.
You whispered “Can Rory make you feel this way, Jess? Does she drive you wild like I do? Can she make you moan like a bitch the way I can? Has she ever made your cock this hard?” You punctuated each sentence with a nip on his ear.
“Fuck you,” he replied, grabbing your ass and turning you onto your back so that he was on top. He pushed himself into you and started fucking you with no mercy.
Your tits were bouncing with every thrust and you were whimpering with need every time he pulled out. You snaked your arms around his back, pulling him deeper into you. You didn’t want any space between you.
“You’re such a whore Y/N. Fucking your best friend’s boyfriend. I can’t believe it turns you on so much.”
You moaned at this words, unable to deny the appeal of the whole situation.
“Fuck baby, I can feel your cunt clenching around me as i say that! You are a fucking whore Y/N, squeezing me with your greedy pussy. Such a bad fucking girl.” Jess yelps, spanking your ass.
“I am a whore Jessy, your whore, only for you” you cried, embarrassed by your pathetic display. He grinned as you used the nickname you only brought out for him when you were cock drunk beyond belief. You groaned inwardly as you couldn’t believe you had given him the satisfaction of that ego boost.
You were lost completely in Jess. He moved his hand down to your core, adding a finger into your weeping pussy, and using his thumb to toy with your clit. It was bliss.
“Jessy?” You called out.
“Hmm?” He groaned in response.
“I want you to cum inside me” you begged.
His eyes widened as a wild look came over him. Without missing a beat, he swung your legs over his shoulders and bent you in two as he fucked into you harder than before. His hand moved to your throat, gently choking you. You stuck your tongue out like a dog in heat - animalistic and beyond a care as to what was normal.
The bed’s headboard was hitting the wall with every thrust from Jess’ pelvis, sure to cause a suspect dent tomorrow. But neither of you could have given a single fuck as the you both chased your highs. The sound of skin slapping, moans and gasps were obscene.
“Jess, have you seen Luke’s toolbox? We need it and he said it might be - Oh my god!”
You both froze and turned to the door. Lorelai was face to face with you and Jess butt naked on Luke’s bed. Sorry - lets rephrase that. Lorelai walked in on her daughter’s boyfriend and best friend fucking raw on Luke’s bed.
She narrowed her eyes and hissed: “Get the fuck out.”
#jess mariano#gilmore girls#milo ventimiglia#gilmore girls smut#jess mariano smut#literati#lorelai gilmore#jess x reader#jess mariano x reader#jess mariano x y/n#jess mariano imagine#jess imagine#gilmore girls imagine
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fairy of shampoo — ryomen sukuna.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e5b1e9b85cfc3b662563076ba049a987/593ee7371b2f1438-16/s540x810/83c23248e43ca927811c1d890413924eee6309e2.jpg)
“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.” There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?” You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”
GENRE: alternate universe - fashion world au!;
WARNING/S: afab! reader, love at first sight, co-workers to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, backstage/greenroom sex, orgasm, humor, pet names (angel, sweetie, etc), devotion, possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, fashion designer! ryomen sukuna, super model! reader;
WORD COUNT: 5k words.
NOTE: i wrote the first part of this while on instagram live and continued to write, but then i forgot to do a live about this again and passed out from more cold medicine. the cold weather isn't really helping my case either. but im feeling much better now!!! though, i kept changing titles too, cause im indecisive. but of course txt saves the day with fairy of shampoo.
i adore this song a lot. also, if you are curious, this was something i was imagining for a while as an au to concubine reader and sukuna. like in another live, he would be a former underground fighter who fell for model reader. in any case, i hope you enjoy it. i love you all!!! see you on the 10th!!!
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER SEEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU BEFORE. He felt his breath hitch, the steady rhythm in his chest faltering as if the very air had thickened, demanding more effort to draw in.
The crowd was roaring around him, but the noise seemed muted, far away, like a distant wave crashing on an unseen shore. All he could focus on was you, the commanding force you carried with every step.
It wasn’t just the way you moved — it was the raw, magnetic energy emanating from you. Each step struck the floor like a declaration, a drumbeat echoing through the cavern of his mind, drowning out every other thought.
He tried to remind himself to blink, to exhale, to ground himself in something other than the overwhelming pull of you, but it was no use. When it comes to you, there was no winning.
When you reached the center of the stage, you turned slowly, your gaze sweeping over the audience like a stormfront rolling in. Then, for the briefest moment, your eyes landed on his.
He felt like a man struck by lightning. The fire in your gaze seared through him, sharp and unyielding, leaving no room for the walls he’d so carefully built. He was laid bare, every defense stripped away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind.
As quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and you turned your attention elsewhere, leaving him in the wreckage of his composure. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, and he could only wonder how someone could hold so much power without even trying.
Control? Composure? He realized now how fragile those concepts truly were.
Everything about you screamed majesty. It was obvious you knew what you were doing and it was obvious that you were doing it with so much passion, so much pride, so much expertise. If it was not clear now, it would be obvious to all now that it was you who ran this world.
And you had no problem trying to show that to everyone. Everything about what you were doing could only exude wonder people cannot explain. Especially when you walked. Ryomen Sukuna knew this from the first time he saw you walk.
He could somehow remember the first time he’s seen you walk on a runway. He wasn’t yet the person he was at this time. Ryomen Sukuna remembers that he was a rough man, a brutish man. Someone whose hands were at one point made for destruction more than they were for anything relating to creation.
These hands were born for nothing good at all. These were born from nothing and then for violence. For most of his life, he was sure that they were made for nothing else but pouring blood on the concrete in rough fistful bouts than they were for wanting to understand the language of fabrics and colors.
Sukuna was all too certain that he wasn’t someone who he himself thought was even worthy of being in your presence then. You wouldn’t have liked the man he was then.
If he didn’t, then you would certainly not like him too. But he liked to think that this was the moment his life changed. He could remember it so very clearly, that moment.
He could recall it all, if you asked. Every little detail. His bloody hands fumbled with the remote control, the echo of his fingers pressing the buttons whiplashed as he tried to find something worth watching. Nothing was worth watching, nothing was worth looking forward to. One after another, the button pressed only to lead to disappointment.
Then, he stopped.
You were the first thing he saw. He blinked as he found himself staring at this moment. It was like you owned the runway. Your long silver stilettos click and clack across the steps,the fine texture of the shimmering silver dress blossomed like moonlight right in front of him. It was like an epiphany when he watched you come towards him through the screen.
Your bright blossoming eyes narrowed sharply as you stopped at the center, posing masterfully for the audiences and then for the cameras. He could feel the hairs on his body stand up as he walked closer to the screen. Almost a second after, you had smiled at the crowd.
For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought that this belonged to him. Your smile, your gaze, your pose. He had felt like you had been longing for him. Calling for him to come and join you. Beckoning him closer by your side. Almost as though you were commanding him like the goddess of the moon you were in that moment.
He wished that moment had lasted much longer. But as you finished your moment, it was your turn to walk away. Disappointment slowly seeped into him as he watched you go, the train of your metallic silver gown flowing behind you like moonshine withdrawing from the slithering darkness.
You were so beautiful, so bright and gorgeous. For a moment, he didn’t even think you were real. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever exist. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever bless him with your wonders, even for just a moment. From that moment, he was awestruck.
But it’s not like Ryomen Sukuna could not help himself in wanting you. You were life itself for him from that moment. And he couldn’t help but live in the world you made. He could not help but want to know you. To know more of your wonder. To be there in the room where it happened, watching you command the world with each and every step only you could make.
One could call him insane for believing that this was the moment that changed his life. That you, who he had never known, would ever change his life. Yet, it was true. You had made him your most adoring servant.
And he had made you his master, his lifelong muse. He knew that he didn’t have any skills to dress you, his goddess, just yet. But if there was something Ryomen Sukuna knew, it was that everything can be learned. And you would guide him how.
He could recall how he stood up from his couch that night and washed his bloody hands on his sink. He cleaned every bit of it. By the time he finished, he found his hands clean enough. And with that he felt satisfied.
He dried his hands with the dry cloth, watching the bloody water drain down the sink. He knew that he had to have clean hands, for you. He can’t dress you if his hands are dirty with blood. He won’t soil you. No, he won’t soil his goddess.
The click of the cameras brought him back to reality. You stopped at the center of the runway and posed. You look at the side dramatically, your jaw sharp against the glow of stage lights. You had fun as you brushed the loose hair back on your ear, trying to showcase the fine sapphire earrings encrusted with diamonds.
People were in awe as you stood there, the leather covered fingers tracing your beautiful face as you showcased the fine red silky flow of the shimmering strapped dress bejeweled in fine rubies and sapphires and its majestic slit at the hem forcing your fine leg forward, the heel of your shoe just as magnificent with its intricate design.
Everything about it was a perfect fit — as it should. Ryomen Sukuna could only think to himself about how proud he was that it looked good on you. Red was certainly made to be your color. The color he had so loved, the color he knew you had come to love just as much when you looked into his scarlet eyes too.
Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he watched the crowd, their collective awe painting a smug satisfaction across his sharp features. They didn’t just see a veteran model on the catwalk; they saw his vision, his devotion, his muse brought to life. They saw life form before their eyes.
It wasn’t just about the clothing, no. It was about you, his precious muse. You carried his work like no one else could, not just wearing the piece but embodying it, giving it a presence that no other model could match. Every step you took whispered of elegance, screamed of confidence, and radiated the unshakable power he had designed into every stitch.
He leaned further back in his chair, one leg draped casually over the other, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his arm. Sukuna’s mind flickered back to the nights spent creating the masterpiece you now wore. The hours he poured over sketches, fabrics, and details, all with you in mind. The fire in his chest when inspiration struck, always tied to the thought of you — your silhouette, your essence, your wonder.
It was a dangerous thing, he knew, to let himself feel this much for anyone. It was even more grievous when one thinks about how crazy he is, obsessed with you. But as he watched you claim the stage as though you owned it, as though you owned him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If anyone deserved his best, it was you.
And now, seeing you carry with pride what he had envisioned, the culmination of his work, his smirk twisted into something softer, something almost reverent. His scarlet eyes could only glint with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.
Because this wasn’t just a fashion show, not to him. This was his world laid bare, his unspoken devotion stitched into fabric, and you, his muse, standing at the center of it all. And he could care less about anything else. This was what mattered. Nothing more will satisfy him than you.
Let them look. He thought, his scarlet gaze darkening further. Let them be captivated.
But they should know this — the vision, the brilliance, the art?
It was his. And so were you.
And you just as well knew it too.
He was yours too, after all.
The moment the show ended, Ryomen Sukuna slipped through the mass of the crowd, his stride purposeful as he made his way backstage. The buzz of the event, the voices, and the clinking of glasses faded into white noise as he navigated through assistants, models, and photographers.
They all parted instinctively for him — whether out of respect, fear, or both, he didn’t care. Why should he care at this moment? He had something else much more important in mind, after all. Nothing can compare to that, to you.
He found you standing alone, the chaos of the backstage swirling around but never touching you. You were a picture of composed beauty, your magnificent features illuminated by the soft backstage lighting. The masterpiece you wore still clung to you, the fabric shimmering as though it held its own light.
You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in adjusting one of the intricate details of the outfit, but the shift in the air told you he was there. You looked up, your tender gaze locking with his, and in that instant, the world seemed to narrow in this cage you had always made for just the two of you. Your lips perk up into a small sly smile.
Sukuna let the door swing shut behind him, the sound muffled by the hum of the outside world. The room felt smaller now, the space between you crackling with an intensity that mirrored the one you’d commanded onstage. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, though the smirk on his lips betrayed the hunger in his gaze.
“Stunning, as always.” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “But then, you already know that.”
You tilted your head, meeting his smirk with a soft smile of your own. “The design does most of the work. You outdid yourself, Sukuna.”
His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in a few slow steps. You shake your head at him, your smile getting bigger too. He was about to have another one of his antics, for certain.
“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.”
There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?”
You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”
His chuckle was dark and low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “Jealous? Maybe. But more than that…” His hand slid from the fabric to your jaw, tilting your beautiful face up to his.
His scarlet eyes burned with something raw, something possessive. “I just wanted to remind you to come by and tell you, like I always do. All of this, the applause, the stares, the admiration... none of it matters. Because at the end of the day, you’re mine. No one else can have you but me.”
The air between you thickened, you could feel your pulse quickening as his blunt words hung in the space. His thumb brushed against your tender cheek, and soon enough, his face echoed a small smirk against his beautiful lips, one that you were certain was softer this time. But of course, you were just as certain that it wasn’t less intense.
“And don’t you dare forget it, hm?” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, before leaning in to close the distance between you.
“I will never forget.” You hummed back to him, just as sweetly. Just as venomous. “Just as you never forget that I am the only muse for you, hm?”
He laughs, the tone rich and eager as his eyes narrowed at you. “And when have I ever forgotten that, hm? Ten years of my life given to you so far, and you’ll have the rest of it too. You don’t have to worry about me leaving you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh aloud this time. “Hm, then you are my prisoner now.”
“I always have been….. I am always willing to be, sweetie.”
He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and guided you through the bustling backstage chaos. You followed without question, the dress flowing into the brush of wind as you made your place elsewhere. You could feel your heart racing as he weaved through the narrow halls with singular focus, while still holding onto you, no matter what.
He didn’t stop until the two of you reached your green room. With a swift glance to ensure no one had followed, he shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place with a finality that made your breath hitch. You looked at him and then he looked back at you, almost as though time had frozen between the two of you.
The room was quieter here, dimly lit and far removed from the noise of the show. The faint hum of the loud music leaked through the walls, but it only added to the charged atmosphere between you. Ryomen Sukuna took a breath before starting to get closer to you, his intense scarlet gaze pinning you to the spot.
It was as though your throat had all but closed. You felt yourself standing there as he made his way to you and then stopped. The space between the two of you had all but evaporated into nothing. You pursed your lip into a line and then shook your head into a small smile.
His scarlet glint lingered, locking with your gaze, a mischievous gleam dancing within his eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself before you, hands deftly reaching for the ties that bound you to your heels. The heels he had designed just for you.
You knew you could do it yourself. But he refused to let you do it, even when he has to get to you later on, he would get some sort of way when he didn’t do it for you. For so long now, you have never been able to take your shoes off by yourself. He wouldn’t allow it.
After all, it was a ritual he insisted on. It was something he had done even when he was first designing clothes tailored just for you. And you had long stopped having any qualms about it.
Every time he did this for you, whether after the runaway or some time else, there was always this calm. It was always a quiet moment of devotion woven into the fabric of your bond each and every single time.
An angel like you shouldn’t have to stoop to something like this, sweetie. He had said back then, his lips curving into a playful smile as his attention remained on your feet. Only devils like me should kneel, taking on tasks as lowly as this.
Now, as his fingers worked to free you from the delicate binds, he couldn’t help but hum. You could feel his mumblings be rough and edged with something untamed and all at once, the warmest of spring days and tenderest of breaths. You obediently look upon him as he carefully removes them from your feet.
“You’ve been driving me insane all night, sweetie.” He set your shoes aside, tucking them where they wouldn’t catch another soul’s attention. His scarlet eyes roved up to yours, filled with longing. “Everything you do, even now... You just woo me to no end.”
You shivered under his gaze, feeling the intensity of his words wrap around you like a warm, intoxicating haze. His hands, calloused yet deliberate, brushed against your ankles as he adjusted your footing, ensuring you could stand without strain. Even in such a simple gesture, his care for you felt all-consuming.
“You have always imprisoned me, you know that? But tonight…..you really have mastered it.” he snickers, his tone dipping lower, velvet and gravel in equal measure.
“I have.” You muttered back at him, smiling at him as sweetly as you could. “Don’t you like it that way? Your muse gives you everything, artist of mine.”
“I did. I always do. I loved tonight most, I should say.” His lips curled into a smirk that sent a rush of heat through your chest. “Every glance, every move—it’s like you’ve cast some wicked spell. And here I am, completely at your mercy.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his hands still lingering just a moment too long on your legs. The proximity was enough to make your heart race, yet he stopped short of closing the distance, his teasing nature keeping you on edge.
“And the worst part?” he added, his voice softening but losing none of its weight. “I don’t even mind. Your devil craves more—he begs, over and over, to be your fool willingly.”
He stood, fluid and graceful, the motion commanding yet intimate. Your eyes blossomed as you looked towards him, unable to move. You felt as though you were being consumed by him. You felt like you were consumed by his wonder, by his soul, by his everything. Like you always have been. Like you always want to be.
His fine lips hovered near yours, daring but unyielding, as though he relished the tension he had so masterfully wrought. Every second seemed to stretch into eternity, leaving you breathless, waiting, wanting—until finally, he whispered back to you.
“Tell me, my angel... How long are you going to keep me like this?”
Before you could respond, his calloused hands were on you. One sliding around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. His precious lips crashed against yours with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It was a kiss that demanded everything from you, one that poured out all the frustration, admiration, and possessiveness he’d kept in check throughout the show.
You melted into him, your tender hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat and then his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His touch was everywhere, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your back, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between you.
The kiss deepened, his lips parting yours as his tongue sought entry, exploring, claiming. You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to tilt your head back, giving him better access as he pressed you against the cool wall, pinning you against it.
“You were perfect, sweetie. You truly are.” he muttered against your lips, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You have no idea how you burn me alive.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, earning a low growl from him that sent heat pooling in your stomach. “I think I’m starting to get the whole of it, ‘Kuna.” you teased breathlessly, your words cut off as he captured your lips again. “But….I wouldn’t mind knowing more about it.”
The air around you was thick with the scent of him, a mix of that one of a kind expensive mint cologne and a little bit of cinammon, something he had become fond of because of you. Everything about it was unmistakably your Sukuna.
The world outside the green room ceased to exist — no crowd, no cameras, no responsibilities to the world. It was just the two of you, tangled together, consumed by the fire you’d stoked in each other. Consumed by the very word that both of you couldn’t fathom saying to the other.
When he finally pulled back, the string of your connection bellowed you in parting. You looked at him intently as you gathered yourself. Both of you were breathless, wanton in your desire. You found your lips swollen and your heart pounding to no end.
Soon enough, he drew you closer and let his forehead rested against yours intently, his hands still firmly on your waist, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish.
“You’re so ardently beautiful, angel of mine.” he said again, his voice a husky promise. “Always. My only muse.”
“And you’re just as cunningly sweet, devil.” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. “You’re the only one who can be my artist.”
“You’re quite possessive tonight, aren’t you?”
You hummed back to him. “Don’t you already know that I am vile when it comes to you and smiling at other women?”
His smirk returned at your words. You rolled your eyes at his smirk, but your own eyes were too playful to suggest anything else. Your lover’s smirk turned softer soon, as your hands rested around his neck. But it was obvious that it was just as dangerous. Soon enough, he leaned in to kiss you again, passionately slower this time, as if savoring the moment.
The green room felt impossibly small, the charged energy between you crackling like a live wire. Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a confidence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake.
Your back pressed against the cool wall, a small breath releasing from your lips. You could feel the difference when you pressed against his body, though. Now more so when he had all but taken everything off, naked as the day he was born. It was truly a stark contrast to the endless heat and pleasure just radiating from his body and onto yours.
He held you firmly, his strong calloused hands gripping your voluptuous hips closer as though grounding himself in you. His hot breath was heavy against your skin, his sharp teeth grazing the sensitive spots on your skin that made you shiver and arch into him.
"’kuna, you….." you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.
He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your neck. "Say it louder for me." he demanded, his voice dripping with authority and raw desire. “I love hearing from you.”
You barely had time to respond before his hand slid lower onto your body, finding the silky fabric in his way. His brow raised for a moment. He had put himself in a conundrum, at times. He likes dressing you in everything he thinks of and creates. And yet, he just as much loves to see it off your body.
With a swift, deliberate motion, he tugged at the silky material, his eager movements ever so impatient yet precise. When your lover found your bare skin, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head to the side slightly, clutching onto his shoulders for support.
It didn’t take long before your lover found himself pressing himself closer, the thick heat of his touch teasing at the warmth of your entrance. He paused, his warm scarlet eyes locking with your own, searching for permission in your gaze. Even when he leads, he knows an angel will always be the one on top, not him, not the devil.
You nodded, your bruised lips parting as you whispered back at him. "Please. Please, my devil."
From there, you could only find that the tension had all but snapped. He pushed into you with a slow, deliberate force that had you throwing your head back against the wall. A loud pleasured cry escaped your eager lips as his throbbing tip pressed against your walls with such a mean, unrelenting precision.
You could only ever feel so full with the way he was easily stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating. He always knew too well how your body would react to him, wantonly eager to capture him in this desire. Just as much as it was willing to follow him, like he was its very own pied piper.
His rough and yet gentle hands gripped your hips tighter against him, steadying you as he slid into you deeper, filling everything inside to the brim. Your lover’s breath could only feel ragged, his jaw clenched and tightened as he fought for control, his sweating forehead resting against your own, now too drenched in desire.
"You take me so perfectly, don’t you?" he growled, his voice low and filled with unrestrained hunger. “Too good.”
Your fingers found their way to the small of his back, nails painted crimson now stained deeper as they dragged across his skin, leaving raw, bleeding trails in their wake. You clung to him desperately, adjusting to the fullness of him, each deliberate motion sending shockwaves through your body.
The initial sting of his girth soon melted into a searing pleasure, a molten heat pooling deep within you as he buried himself further, again and again. Each thrust forward in this pandemonium of pleasure was deliberate, unyielding, designed to elicit the loudest, most unrestrained cries from your lips.
Even against the sound of music outside these walls, your pleasure was even louder. Not that Sukuna minded. If anything, that had just made him more eager for more. The air in the green room grew dense and feverish, charged with the mingling of your ragged breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin meeting skin, and the guttural curses that spilled freely from Sukuna’s lips.
He shifted slightly, tilting your hips with a nearly brutal precision, each movement driving him deeper and deeper into you. It was raw, primal—his intensity teetering on the edge of brutish animalism. The cool wall at your back pressed harder against you as he pushed closer, his heat overwhelming, searing into your already burning skin.
From then on, your lover found himself thrusting against you in a new angle. Almost instantly, you found yourself unraveled entirely, tearing cries of unrestrained ecstasy from your lips over and over again, layered in different pitches one after another. Your body arched instinctively, meeting him halfway, desperate for more as he kept you teetering on the precipice of bliss.
Again and again, your lover gleefully pushed you closer to that feverish edge, his swift movements unrelenting, even as his own breaths grew rough and uneven, the sound of his hunger matching the rhythm of your shared passion. You could feel your slick sliding down your crevices, as much as drool was falling from your lips.
“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged, thick with possession. His lips found the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin before biting down lightly, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
You groan against him. “You take me so perfectly… even now, in this dress I made just for you. Look at how it clings to you, ruined. It’s just like I wanted.”
The shining silk fabric of the dress bunched at your hips, a masterpiece he had poured his craft into, now crumpled and wrinkled between your sweating, mangled bodies. It was too intoxicating, the way that the waves of wrinkles formed on the fabric as you moved against him just as intensely. It was such an art. It was an art that only belonged to you and him. No one else can ever see such marvels like this.
The bright satin straps had all but slipped from your shoulders, exposing more of your gleamingly red and marred skin to his roaming calloused hands and greedy scarlet eyes. His long fingers gripped the delicate material, rough and unapologetic, as though the dress itself was just another part of you to dominate.
Your response was but a strangled moan as his brutishly eager hips snapped forward, the force of him driving you harder against the wall. The burn of skin against skin, the body against the cool wall — it has overtaken you whole in many fits of groans in pitiful harmonies of pleasure.
The cool surface contrasted with the molten heat coursing through your body, heightening every sensation. Your nails could only continue to claw at his shoulders, leaving streaks upon streaks of your touch across his skin, marring him, as you fought to keep yourself grounded. He could only smirk at that.
“Look at you now.” he murmured darkly, his scarlet gaze piercing into yours. “Still wearing this dress like a goddess, and yet, you’re falling apart for me. Do you have any idea how maddening you are? How irresistible?”
His hand slid between your bodies, teasingly brushing over the intricate folds of the fabric as his fingers found the heat pooling between your thighs. “Tell me, angel… do you want me to ruin this dress too? To ruin you completely, so no one else can ever have you?”
“Yes, my devil.Yes.” you gasped, your voice shaky but unyielding, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer. “Only you.”
His chuckle was dark, wicked, and utterly consuming, the sound of a man reveling in his victory. “Just how I love it, then.” he whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Because I’ve made you mine in every way that matters.”
His pace quickened, the power of his thrusts leaving you breathless, and yet, the dress still clung to your frame, a tattered proof to his desire and your surrender. Every stitch, every detail he had meticulously crafted was now a witness to the unrelenting passion that coursed between you, its perfection crumbling just as you were under his touch.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, even as it trembled with raw hunger. “My perfect angel. My creation. Mine.”
The dress clung to you, its delicate fabric now rumpled and damp with sweat, a stark contrast to the pristine masterpiece it had been when he first slipped it into your body hours earlier. His hands roamed freely now, rough fingertips tracing the paths of the seams he had stitched with care.
Each touch of his ignited sparks across your glowing skin, a searing reminder that every detail of the garment was crafted with you burning the thoughts he had mind—and now, every thread bore witness to how completely he had unraveled you bear to him.
“Do you feel how perfect this is?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rasp. His hips surged forward again, drawing a gasp from your lips that echoed in the small room.
“Every part of this, of you, was meant to drive me insane. The heavens planned for that, don’t you think? An angel to save the devil from sin.” He lets out a small choked chuckle, feeling sweat permeate from his neck.
His words were almost worshipful, though they carried the dark edge of his hunger. One hand slid down, gripping your thigh through the bouncing fabric, pulling you impossibly closer as he pressed harder against you. His other hand tugged at the hem of your dress, teasingly smoothing it back down only to push it higher again.
“You don’t even know, do you?” he continued, his scarlet eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive as easily as his body did. “How beautiful you look like this—wrapped in something I made, only to have me ruin it.”
His lips curled into a smirk, wicked and proud, before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was all-consuming, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his tongue invading with the same urgency as his movements against you. When he pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours.
“Say it again. I wanna hear it again.” he demanded, his voice thick with need. “Tell me you’re mine.”
You could barely form the words, but they tumbled from your lips without hesitation. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
His eyes darkened further, a victorious glint sparking within them. “That’s right.” he growled, his pace quickening, his grip on you tightening as he drove you higher and higher. “You’ll always be mine, angel. No one else will ever have you like this. No one else will ever love you like I do.”
The intensity of his words sent you over the edge, your beautiful cries mingling with his animalistic groans as he followed you into an oblivion together. The air around you was heavy, thick with the scent of desire and the echoes of your shared release.
For a moment, neither of you moved from the bliss of the high. The only sound that mattered to the two of you was the ragged cadence of your breaths. His hands, once rough and relentless, now moved with never ending tenderness, smoothing the crumpled fabric of your silk dress as if trying to restore its dignity.
As if trying to hide the ruin and depravity that he feels only belongs to you and him. No one else can see it, no one else can know about his depravity. Only you, only you were the spectacle of any wrinkle in his composure. Your lover smiles at you. His lips brushed your forehead, a soft contrast to the ferocity of moments before.
“You’re perfect, as always.” he whispered, his voice low but steady, carrying a rare, vulnerable warmth. “In every way.”
You couldn’t help but smile at him. “So are you.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#ryoumen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#kayu writes ! ! !
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i saw requests were open and i simply could not resist
holding both their hands while holding their gaze gently, just before leaning in for a kiss + oscar maybe? honestly whoever you want to write it with, i’ll be happy!!!
you’re the best, love you, hope you’re having the most beautiful day ever💛💛
marissa babe i love you loads, thank you so much for this request <3 i've melted into a puddle writing this i kid you not
oscar piastri x reader, 1.8k. request something from here!
You’ve gone back and forth between canceling your date three times in the past two hours now.
You should be showering, getting ready, finding a cute outfit, but instead you’re pacing a hole in the floor of your room, staring at your phone on your desk.
You’ve been going out with the sweetest guy, Oscar, for a bit, and you like to think things are going well. He’s so kind and so cute, and you still can’t quite wrap your mind around the fact that he likes you enough to have gone on five dates with you.
But for some reason, he makes you so unbelievably nervous. You feel like a bumbling fool around him whenever you’re together, tripping over your words, laughing a little too hard for a little too long at something that probably wasn’t even that funny, but you can’t help it. When Oscar is around, it’s like some little person in your brain wrenches away control from any rational thinking and just goes crazy.
The worst part is, you don’t even know why. He’s just your type, he makes you feel like you’ve known him for much longer than you have, and you thought that would put you at ease.
You’ve never felt this way with any other person before. Maybe that’s why you’re acting this way. This thing you have with Oscar is special, however new it is, and you’re afraid of fucking it up. You haven’t even kissed yet, but you’re afraid of fucking that up too.
At that moment, your phone buzzes with a text from none other than Oscar himself.
Oscar: Can’t wait to see you tonight. Miss you :-)
You’ve only gone four days without seeing each other and he misses you enough to tell you so. Fuck, he’s adorable.
You have to go now, because the moment you finish reading his message you’re grinning like an idiot, giggling alone in your room at an eight word message and a stupidly endearing smiley face.
Unfortunately, your nerves and anxieties have come to bite you on the ass. Now you’ve only got a little more than an hour to do everything you should’ve been doing to get ready for dinner instead of sitting around being indecisive.
How you manage to get ready and out the door on time is a miracle, and before you know it you’re in an Uber on your way to meet Oscar. The driver is a kindly older man, rather talkative, which normally you weren’t very fond of, but his stories about his grandkids do wonders at providing a distraction from your thoughts.
You almost forget you’re on your way to meet Oscar until you get out of the car and spot him across the street, slouched against the wall of the restaurant scrolling on his phone.
He looks devastatingly handsome in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, both of which fit him fantastically, if you say so yourself, hair fluffed to perfection even though you know for a fact he probably hadn’t done a thing to it.
As if he senses you’ve arrived, he glances up, beaming brightly at the sight of you. He raises his hand in a wave, pocketing his phone immediately and coming to meet you at the other edge of the sidewalk.
“Hey, stranger. Long time no see,” He says warmly, effortlessly folding you into a hug. You let yourself melt a little bit in his embrace, cheek pressed to his firm chest. “You look really pretty.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You reply. He smiles bashfully, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Shall we?” He offers out the crook of his elbow and you loop your arm through his, happy to follow his lead into the restaurant.
Dinner goes well, all things considered. You’re frustratingly aware of how Oscar makes you feel the entire time, but you think you’re playing it off fairly well.
Or at least, if Oscar does notice, he doesn’t say anything. He’s absolutely perfect the whole time, polite and engaged with your stories, and funny in that dry sort of way of his that you’ve come to like.
You insist on splitting the bill once it comes and he doesn’t waste time by fighting you for the check like a lot of guys always seem to do, but he does call dibs on paying for ice cream at a place down the road he’d spotted on his way in, which you agree to.
He slides his hand into yours almost shyly at the start of the walk over, peering over at you through that one swooping curl of his that never seemed to stay put, as if to ask if it was okay he was holding your hand.
Your relationship (if you could even call it one at this early stage) is still new to the point where both of you aren’t quite sure what’s okay and when. Your response is to simply lace your fingers through his and squeeze.
You quite like holding his hand, even if it does make you worry about if yours is too sweaty.
Oscar opts for double chocolate chunk as his scoop of choice, which surprises you a little bit. You thought he would’ve gone for vanilla, but he always finds new ways to surprise you. He even pokes fun at your choice in flavor, bumping his shoulder against yours with that big smile that makes your heart dance in your chest.
You find a nice place to sit and eat your ice cream on a bench in a cute little park across the way, and everything is going swimmingly, but then he asks.
“This might be a stupid question, but are you alright?”
You nearly choke on your ice cream at his words. You’ve learned that Oscar is usually pretty blunt, but you’re still trying to get used to it. “Am I—what?”
“Are you okay? You seem…different. Was dinner alright? I’ve never been there before, but one of my mates keeps going on and on about it so I thought—”
So he had noticed. You shake your head firmly, placing a hand over Oscar’s. “Dinner was lovely.”
“Ah. Okay. Is it something else then?” To his credit, he looks genuinely concerned that something’s wrong, even with ice cream smudged at the edge of his mouth. You have to fight the urge to wipe it away for him. “You don’t have to tell me, but you can if you want to. I’m a good listener.”
You could tell him. It would benefit you to tell him, but for some reason, you hesitate.
How are you to tell Oscar that he makes you feel like you're not yourself when he's around? That you get so nervous in his presence that you always feel like you're doing or saying the wrong thing?
That every time he holds your hand or touches your cheek or texts you silly updates about his failed attempts at keeping a plant alive, you have to fight the urge to scream because you like him so much it scares you and you're afraid you’ll chase him away if you let him in on it.
How do you tell someone all that without sounding completely and totally mental?
You’ve only been on five dates, for fuck’s sake. For all you know, he could be planning on telling you it just won't work out between the two of you as soon as you get home tonight. You know he wouldn't do that because he's way too nice, but it doesn't stop you from jumping to conclusions.
You must take longer than you think to respond, because Oscar says your name again. He’s fully facing you now, one hand on your knee when you come back down from your thoughts, brows furrowed.
“I like you.” You blurt.
He blinks a few times, then smiles. “Well, that's good, ‘cause I like you too.”
“No, Oscar, I—” You pause a beat, trying to gather your thoughts into something more coherent. “I really like you. Like, so much that I feel like I’m messing everything up.”
“You could never mess anything up,” Oscar says fondly. So, so fondly. Your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest at his sincerity. “I really like you too. It’s a little scary, actually.”
“Oh, thank god. I thought it was just me,” You breathe, shoulders sagging in relief.
“That’s it, though?” He prods, cocking his head to the side curiously.
“Uh…yes? I’m sorry, were you expecting more?”
“No, no, of course not. I just—I thought maybe you were acting differently because you didn’t like me anymore. Got tired of me, or something like that,” He admits sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.
His shoulders hunch in on themselves, brows knit in something akin to embarrassment as he stares off at something in the distance. “It sounds stupid now that I hear it out loud, actually. Forget I said anything.”
“Oscar,” You hum, just as soft as the way he’d reassured you moments earlier. His eyes shift over to meet yours, rich, warm brown like fresh coffee looking wide eyed back at you. You ease the nearly half empty paper cup out of his grip, taking both his hands in your own. You don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.
“Hm?” He sounds flustered, gaze flicking down to your lips momentarily before coming back up. It’s only a split second, but you know what it means.
He wants you to kiss him. You want to kiss him. You haven’t yet because you’ve been scared, but you don’t feel scared anymore. You’re not at all sure where this sudden burst of confidence is coming from, but you’re sure as hell not about to let it go to waste, so you lean forward, pressing your lips against his gently.
It’s like he’s been waiting for this moment, because as soon as your mouth is on his, he sighs, tilting his head accordingly so your noses won’t smash together. You can taste the chocolate from his ice cream on his lips as they move against yours, and it’s not a perfect kiss by any means, but Oscar’s kissing you back, so it feels pretty perfect to you. You’re rather sad when you have to pull away, but air remains a necessity.
Oscar’s eyes flutter open slowly. “That was…”
“Nice?” You supply hopefully.
Oscar bobs his head quickly, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Really nice. We should do it again. Can I…?” Now it’s your turn to nod, and he wastes no time in kissing you again, maybe a little too excitedly, because he knocks both your ice creams off the bench and onto the ground with a sad splat. He pulls away just enough to look at the splatter of melted dessert already starting to seep into the cobblestones under your feet. “Oh. Crap, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Forget the ice cream,” You mumble, already chasing him for more. You reach around to tangle your fingers up and into the hair at the nape of his neck as a means of pulling him closer.
Oh, this newfound confidence is really working out for you.
He lets out a hitched exhale, swallowing hard again. “Yeah, yep. Forgetting the ice cream.”
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#requested!#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81 x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri one shot
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Rip Tide | Chapter I
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[ MDNI ] [ word count: 7.267 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; Mentions of overdose; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.
Likes, asks, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. This is my first wip in a while, so its a little janky, but I hope you like it! Thank you in advance for reading <3
He’d been gone for almost a year now.
You and your father were never really close. Truthfully, the two of you were never much of anything to each other.
Since you could remember, he’d treated you like some pet his ex had left at his house after a break-up: no warmth, no harshness, just this mild yet persistent annoyance that came from having to be responsible for something he neither wanted nor cared for. He could look down at you, throw a ball for you to catch, or pat your head half-heartedly while he talked to some random stranger that complimented you on the street, but whatever it was that you did right never granted you enough favor to avoid his ever-present disappointment.
That relationship alone was depressing enough as it was, but it would’ve been at least tolerable were it not for his much more obvious and paternal love for your older brother.
You could never really pin-point why it was that your father loved John so much while simultaneously only barely acknowledging your existence. You were both his children, after all. Yes, you were born to different mothers, but John’s mother had abandoned your father just as much as John’s did, and he only ever said good things about her, the same way he only ever said good things about John.
Maybe it was that John looked more like him, or that they thought just like each other, or that they only ever spoke about the same things.
Maybe this weird and cruel dynamic could be boiled down to you just being the odd one out. And though that didn’t make you resent it — resent them — any less, you’d made enough of a peace with it that once he was gone, you actually mourned him.
So why was it that it suddenly felt like he was right there, willingly ignoring you, all over again?
You sat alone on the railing at the Chateau, his ‘Chateau’, drinking budweiser, his favorite beer, wearing an old shirt that most definitely had belonged to him at some point, staring out into the river bank where he’d last been seen, and feeling rejected, exactly the same way he always made you feel.
The man was haunting you.
JJ and Kie lounged together on the sand over some old beach towel.The soft wind blowing her curls against his face. She smiles as she looks back at him, tucking that piece of hair behind her ear, and their eyes remain locked for a moment, gazes drifting back and forth between the eyes and the lips in that indecisive little lover’s dance you and him had been caught up in so many times.
It was excruciating: Sitting there and watching him play the same tricks he’d played on you on someone else, someone you knew he’d had his eye on for a while, like you were some sort of pathetic test subject he took up with the single intention of serving as the canvas on which he practiced his bullshitting skills.
You shouldn’t be surprised that he threw you away as soon as his actual target showed the slightest bit of interest in him, and you weren’t. That’s the worst part: in more ways than one, you knew this would happen. But as if locked in this realm of meta-self-consciousness, the more aware you were of JJ’s general scummyness, the more you convinced yourself you’d never fall for his lines, and the more comfortable you became in rolling over and letting him bullshit you.
You felt John’s approach before you heard him; Those unmistakably careless steps you’d heard just outside of your door all your life suddenly bounding towards you. Ten whole months of his obsessive and undivided attention hadn’t been able to erase the weirdness of him suddenly acknowledging you after seventeen years of pretending you weren’t there, so every time his eyes landed on you, your mind sent up a “something bad is about to happen” signal to the rest of your body.
He smiled awkwardly as you turned around to meet his eye.
– You okay? – The railing creaked as he sat down beside you, a half-drunk beer in his own hand. Your father’s disappearance had taken a lot out of John. At night, he paced. In the morning, he stared at the locked study. In the evening, he bit his nails and scratched his arms. And all throughout, you could see he was thinking of him. Whereas before, your brother had been the poster-child of teenage carelessness, now he could barely hide just how much his sanity had been going down the drain.
It was bad. Bad enough that he’d actually started worrying about losing you, of all people.
It was freaky.
The old John B couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you without cracking jokes at your expense or silently loathing at the burden of your existence. Now he could barely let you out of his sight.
You stayed quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond. Finally, you shrugged, taking another sip of beer before muttering, – Peachy.
John let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. – You suck at lying, you know.
–Thanks, – you said dryly, setting the bottle down on the railing beside you. – I’ll make sure to add that to my list of things I suck at.
He didn’t laugh this time. You could feel his gaze on you, weighing heavier with every second you refused to look at him. Finally, you turned to meet his eyes—green, sharp, and so annoyingly sincere they made your chest tighten.
–You’re not okay, – He said softly, his voice breaking the kind of silence that felt like it had been years in the making.
– That bad at hiding it, huh? Have to add that to the list too.
– Why do you wanna hide things from me?
You stopped yourself from scoffing before you could hurt his feelings. But the answer was obvious to anyone with eyes: The two of you didn’t know each other.
No matter how much he tried to make you a part of his friend group or make up for the time you two wasted pretending the other didn’t exist, a couple months of effort couldn’t fix what over a decade had set into stone.
Maybe doing things behind his back wasn’t helping.
But you didn’t do it to hurt him. You didn’t plan for things with JJ to go as far as they did, they just did. And you knew it would hurt him if you told him what you had been doing, because JJ was John’s family more than you had ever been, and he’d see it as a betrayal.
For a moment, you wanted to tell him the truth. The real truth, not the sarcastic, deflective shit you’d been feeding everyone since the day you learned to speak.
But you didn’t. Because you’d had seventeen years of practice in swallowing everything you felt until it became a lump in your throat you’d learned to ignore.
– I don’t. I’m not. And I… I don’t want to. – you said instead, your voice as steady as you could make it. – Life’s just been kicking me hard right now.
He studied you for a moment longer, his brow furrowing slightly, before he nodded. – It's okay. I get it.
– Thanks.
You expected him to leave after that, but he didn’t. Instead, he stayed right there, his shoulder brushing yours as you sat in silence.
It was awkward. It's always been with the two of you. But eventually, he spoke again.
– Look, I… um, how can I say this? – He laughed, dragging his fingers through his hair. – I need your help with something.
You chuckled, a little more light-hearted now, and patted his back softly. – Go ahead.
– So, JJ's been acting weird. – You froze. It was over. He knew. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he knew enough that this whole thing between JJ and you had to be completely restructured. Your eyes drifted back to where Kie and the blonde were sitting, trying to keep your panic under wraps. – I was talking to Pope about it, but it's not like he cares enough to know what's going on. And Kie, who is the one that should care, told me I was just acting crazy. But I'm not crazy! He is weird! He's acting very weird!
You wanted to comfort him, and tell him that he wasn’t crazy, that he was right. There was something going on with JJ. But how were you supposed to say that without blowing your cover completely? You bit the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to say the most basic thing you could:
– How so? – Was all you managed, still looking outwards, at JJ and Kie, in an attempt to avoid your brother’s gaze. It turned out to be just as bad a choice as the previous one. Your stomach turned as you saw him whisper something in her ear, earning a giggle from the girl, one that almost grated at your nerves. You took a deep breath, re-claiming the bottle you'd given up on, and taking a swig.
– Like… um, I don’t know. He’s always brushing me off about the most random things. Like, I can ask him a stupid question about surfing, or beer, or I don’t know, whatever! And he acts completely normal, but if I ask him if he slept over he’ll just feed me a bunch of senseless shit that doesn’t even answer the question!
– That’s... really weird.
– Right?! – He looked so relieved as you reassured him. So trusting. Yet here you were, lying to his face, knowing damn well that you were the reason JJ’s moronic ass couldn’t just tell your brother he slept on the couch. – And he keeps making these weird comments.
You were afraid to ask.
– What sort of comments?
– Like, the other day- He stopped himself short, suddenly looking into your eyes and then away again, his whole face suddenly red. – No, no. Um, forget about it. It’s weird.
– Weird? – He hummed and nodded. Eyes still glued to the floor. – Weirder than your ‘That’s so Raven’ phase? C’mon, tell me.
– No, it’s just..
– Just what?
– It’s like… – He gesticulated exaggeratedly with his hands. – graphic. We were... talking about, this site and when Pope made this joke about half siblings he just-
– Okay! –You breathed in, looking away as well. – Okay. So don’t tell me that. Is there anything else?
– Like, look at that! Look at his back. That looks really gnarly, doesn’t it? – You followed his gaze back to the thing you’d just been mulling over, and noticed, for the first time, the thing that had probably been freaking John out all day long: JJ’s back was streaked with nail marks. From beneath the ends of his dirty-blonde hair a couple hickeys poked out. And right there clear as day on his left shoulder, a bite.
You swallowed.
– Damn, I hadn’t seen that. – It wasn’t a lie. You’d never taken pride in the marks you left on people, mostly because after JJ, you often did your best to compartmentalize whatever intimacy you partook in. – Why is that weird, though?
– At first I thought he’d gotten into some catfight or something, that was ashamed to say it, but JJ’s been bitten all over these days, and he makes SUCH a big deal about saying it's nothing. Like, he'll ramble for hours. – He sighed. – I don’t know, but isn’t it weird?
– Yeah, it’s weird.
– Maybe he found some vampire chick to hook up with. – He laughed, though it was clear he didn't find any of it funny. – I don't know, but it's like his head's in the clouds or whatever.
You laughed, speaking before you could stop yourself: – Vampire? – You huffed, taking a swig from your bottle. – I don’t know. Kie doesn’t strike me as the type that only comes out at night. – Your conscience dawned upon you as you put the beer down. Drinking made you reckless, and as soon as you said it, you knew you'd be regretting it for a long time.
– What?! You- You don’t think they’d- No. No. No way.
– Uhm, I… I don’t. I don’t know. It was just like a hunch.
– Did she say something to you?!
She had, as a matter of fact, said something to you two days ago, and it had been burning in your mind even since: You’d been in the kitchen, staring into the empty fridge and trying to think of something you could possibly do with nothing but ketchup and mustard, when someone suddenly kicked the back of your shoe.
Kie had looked back at you with a mischievous smile. “JJ’s been staring at you all day.”
There was something conspiratorial in the way she giggled, poking at your sides like you were both children again, and you couldn’t help but laugh along: “Oh, please. He’d stare at a tree all day if it had tits.”
“I don’t think that’s it.” She looked around again, squeezing your arm. “I think he likes you. Like, like-likes you.”
You didn’t want to tell her that you and JJ had been sneaking around for a while, paranoid that John or Pope might walk past and hear you, so you just laughed. “How much beer did you drink today?”
“Fine, then, don’t tell me. Just know that I’m watching you!” She said it in sing-song, opened the door, and left you there, grinning alone, sure that it had been a completely harmless interaction.
Despite your endless tries, you hadn’t had many girl friends growing up. So when he was gone and John was suddenly forcing you to hang out with him and his friends, you’d been glad to spend time with Kie.
She’d always been nice to you, regardless of the fact she was older and a kook, so of course, you’d always been a little star-struck when she treated you like a friend.
Only a friend wouldn’t say what she said, not at least, when she was planning to spend the whole day after that flirting with JJ.
You wish you could’ve been charmingly aloof to her giggling and preening, and that, despite your definite lack of kook-ness, you would’ve had the grace and etiquette to brush it off as easily as she brushed off your feelings. But you’d never been the sort of person that can deal gracefully with their own negative emotions. So you sulked, and you drank, and you smoked.
The night fell slower than you had wanted that day, but as soon as your brother’s snoring could be heard through the house, your door creaked open, and in came JJ, with his stupid smile, bounding over to you.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t bother to address it until both of you were half-naked.
JJ had this habit of introducing serious topics of conversation just as you were getting comfortable with him. So he’d been beneath you, calloused hands tearing your shirt off of your body, head thrown back as you kissed his neck, when, between a groan and a plea, he asked “What’s gotten you so angry, huh?”
You brushed it off as playful teasing. No one liked to dirty talk better than JJ, and given his talent to make people angry, you wouldn’t be surprised this was some scheme he’d worked out to rile you up. You tangled your hands in his hair, and pulled his head back, kissing him quiet as his fingers sunk into your waist. “What is it, huh?” He thrust into you, once and again, and again, his eyes squeezed shut as his mouth fell open, groaning and moaning against the crook of your neck. “You- ah- You don’t like me talking to Kie? Is that- OH GOD- Is that- is that it?”
You slammed your hips against his and laughed bitterly as you felt a shiver tear through him. JJ babbled for a moment, opening his eyes just for you to see them rolling into his head. Your nails scraped against his back in a way that had him arching into you. And though you were enjoying yourself, a part of you wanted to torture him more than anything.
He’d begged you to slow down, breathless and starry-eyed, his own nails digging into the meat of your thighs as he pulled you in, over and over again, despite his contradicting protests.
When you were finally done, JJ was red in the face as he fell back on your bed, and it took him a while to formulate a sentence. “I should make you jealous more often.” Was what he came up with at the end, heart thumping wildly against his ribcage, enough that you could feel it against your skin.
His breath was as warm as his hands, and just as shaky. The patterns he drew against your back shifted from adoring to exhausted, and you remained there, weaving your fingers through his blonde strands.
“What you should do is cash a reality check.” You hummed, and he barked out a laugh at that, curling up into your arms as you shifted to your side.
“Keep lying to yourself, babe. You know you love me.”
From beneath your lashes, you could see the smile on his face as he watched his hands move against you, hypnotized by steady movement his palms made down the curve of your hips.
You were satisfied by the interaction when it happened. It felt so playful, so soft, you didn’t even have the heart to wake him up as you felt his breath grow deeper against you.
JJ would wake you up hours later, just as the sun broke the horizon, whispering something about leaving before John B came to check on you, and you’d only barely registered his words, still stuck in that void between consciousness and sleep, but you remembered smiling as he kissed up your neck and told you he’d see you later.
He was right about that. But you weren’t glad you saw him again.
You woke up, opened the door, and just between stumbling to the bathroom and wondering if there was anything to eat, you saw him, shirtless on the couch, with Kie on top of him. You turned back around as if the sight had blinded you, trying to force the sound of their kissing out of your mind.
All day long, he’d been attached to her hip. They’d spent the morning whispering and giggling on the couch, the evening eating off each other’s plate, and now there they were, cuddled up on your beach towel, watching the sun go down.
John was still looking at you expectantly. – So? Did she say something?
You sighed.
– Not explicitly. She did ask me if I liked him very suspiciously, though.
– Why didn’t you say anything?!
- Because! – Because you had no idea she would bait and switch you like that. The moment sat heavy on your chest, a constant, gnawing reminder that whatever semblance of camaraderie you thought you had with Kie had only been another cruel thing in your ongoing circus of disappointments. And of course you couldn’t share that with John. The last thing you needed was to light another fire beneath his already manic suspicions. So you shrugged and avoided his gaze, taking another sip of beer. – It was weird, but not weird enough that it merited an intervention.
He’s shaking his head as you speak, unconsciously, almost in denial.
He clearly wasn’t buying that there was nothing going on, and the frown on his face deepened, turning into something like disgust. – Kie wouldn’t… She wouldn’t do that. She’s not dumb, right? She knows what JJ is like, doesn’t she?
You soaked in that unintended insult for a second, wishing you had never opened your mouth. – I don’t know. Maybe they’re not. – But they were, though. –You’ve all had a thing for Kie at some point, right? JJ’s probably just going through a phase.
– Yeah, but she’s entertaining it! She never did that before! – You couldn’t argue against him anymore. You knew he was right, and he, unconsciously or not, did too. But the guilt was eroding at you from the inside out. Despite the decade and some you two had spent trying to ignore one another, you knew him well enough to know that what was bothering him was not that his friends could be in a relationship, but what would happen to his friend group when they inevitably broke up. – I can’t believe JJ would do that.
– He might not be doing anything, John! – You tried to give him some comfort at least, janky though were at expressing sympathy. – I mean, it’s JJ we’re talking about, he’ll flirt with any girl that has a pulse.
– What part of “She’s entertaining it” didn’t you get?! – He turned to you like a coiled viper, eyes dark with an anger you couldn’t really comprehend. The moment his voice sharpens it’s like the temperature in the room has dropped. Suddenly, you’re on your feet, struggling to process how this seemingly normal conversation had turned into a fight.
You try to keep your cool, though you feel that guilt pushing into confusion:
– Hey, you don’t need to raise your voice at me. I’m just trying to make you see the nuance here.
– What nuance?! It’s obviously happening! You were the one who brought up the problem and now you’re just gonna brush it off?
– I wasn’t the one that brought it up, and that’s not what I’m doing!
– Yes it is! And you always do! You bring up these random things about other people, stirring shit up, and when I try to talk about it, you’re suddenly above it? You’re such a hypocrite!
– Why are you mad, John? We were just talking about this like grown-ups and suddenly you wanna argue? Let’s just- Let’s calm down for a second, okay? – You both looked down for a moment, interrupted by your ringtone. Barry’s name flashed on your screen for the third time that day. Yet another one of your bad habits catching up to you. – Uh, hey, Bee. I’m kind of in the mi- Hey! Hey! What the fuck are you doing? – John wrestled the phone out of your hand, turning it off before you could do anything. – WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!
– We’re talking here! I don’t know if you realized.
– Fuck you, John! Are fucking kidding me?! Give me back my phone!
– WE’RE TALKING RIGHT NOW!
– I’m not fucking talking to you after this bullshit! Give me back my fucking phone!
He held it out of your reach, looking at you with spite. – I hate Barry. You know I hate him, why the hell do you keep talking to him?!
There wasn’t much else you could do but stare up in disbelief. – Why are you bringing this shit up now?! He’s my friend, you know that! And you don’t own me! I’ll talk to whoever I want!
You hear the steps coming towards the two of you as John scoffs, pushing you off of him. – Barry’s a drug dealer, for God’s sake! When are you gonna realize this guy is bad news?!
– Oh, sure! Because JJ is such a model citizen!
– Don’t bring him into this!
– You were the one that brought him into this! It’s none of your goddamn business who I choose to hang out with, John! I’m your sister, not your fucking pet!
He raises his hands, laughing bitterly. – Pet? Really? That’s fucking rich coming from you! – That stings more than you want to admit it. The way he throws his words at you like knives. The way he says it, it tells you it’s not just the frustration talking. He means it. – Up until a couple months ago you treated us all like lepers, wouldn’t even look us in the eye! But you want me to believe that the crackhead down the street is somehow more worthy of your time than I am?!
Your composure had gone down the drain now, and the guilt went with it. You could have lied. You should have lied. But because you didn't, now you were punished. – You are so fucking full of yourself, John! I swear to God!
– I’M FULL OF MYSELF?! Really?! I am?!
– Yes, you are! You’re so fucking spoilt! You think the world just revolves around you! You can do whatever you want, you fuck up, you commit literal fucking felonies out there with your friends, and I’m the problem because I’m friends with the guy that YOU BUY WEED FROM?!
He laughs. Not to himself, at you. Just the way he used to do before: – You’ve gotta be really fucking stupid to think Barry, of all people, is your friend. It’s fucking pathetic, really!
– Says the guy who hasn’t made a friend since the third grade!
– Whoa! Whoa! Chill out, you two, what the hell is going on?! – JJ comes rushing in, already pulling John away from you like some sort of white knight, but your brother just pushes him out of the way, still tearing into you:
– Barry’s not your friend. You’re too smart not to see that– Or you know, at least I thought you were.
– Guys, c’mon- JJ can barely get a word in:
– You don’t know what you’re talking about! The people I hang out with are none of your business, and you know damn well you have no room to talk!
– What do you even mean by that?!
You laugh sarcastically. – And you think I’m the one who is fucking stupid?
You feel a hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you back. Kie stands behind you, her dark eyes full of pity, a concern that is more judging than kind. – Guys, Guys, please. Just stop it. You two are not thinking straight.
– We’re talking here, Kie, stay out of it! – You can see the lack of patience in your brother’s eyes as he speaks. And you take the opportunity to try and grab your phone again, but JJ grabs you before you can get to him. – Get off of me, JJ! None of this shit concerns you! Can you fuck off?!
– JJ’s just trying to help. – Kie says. She pushes JJ off of you, trying to stand in between. –Look, let’s calm down.
– We don’t want your help!
– Don’t talk to my friends like that!
– Like what? Like the way you and dad talk to me?
– You’re not putting dad into this fucking conversation right now! Jesus, you are so fucking pathetic! – He’s always thought that about you. In all the time you’ve known John, which is all the time you’ve been alive, that’s the word he most commonly attached to you: pathetic. And it echoes in your head as you look at him. The edge in his eyes repeating that word again and again. – You’re literally a child! You’re trying to butt into my friends lives because you don’t have any, and dad’s supposed to be at blame because you had no fucking life until I tried to include you?!
– Oh, oh sorry! Sorry! I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a Saint! I thought I was talking to the guy who bullied me in middle school at the same time he had me help him with his High School homework! My mistake! GO FUCK YOURSELF, JOHN! It took dad disappearing for you to acknowledge the fact I wasn’t some fucking plaything for you to kick around when you’re bored! Get off your fucking high horse!
You see the rage forming on his face again.
– You’re rich! You’re really fucking rich, you know that?!
– I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, John! I don’t care! I can take a humbling from a lot of fucking people, okay, but I don’t wanna hear shit from you! You’re a spoiled brat! Dad never had the guts to tell you no on anything, so you think you’re entitled to everyone’s shit! You think you can control your friends lives, you think you can boss me around and use the money THAT I’M FUCKING MAKING to fund your little parties and make yourself feel better about the fact Dad walked out! Well I’ve got fucking news for you, bro! You’re the fucking child here! YOUR ASS CAN’T EVEN GET A JOB!
– You’re really gonna make this about money again? Is that the problem?!
– Oh my fucking God! TAKE A FUCKING HINT, JOHN! LOOK AROUND YOU!
JJ calls your name again, holding your brother back as Kie begs you to stop. You hadn’t even realized they were talking. – Please! That’s not who either of you are! You’re angry! You’re saying things you don’t mean.
– Oh he means it, Kie. John might be stupid but he’s damn sure not crazy, and he knows what he says! That's what he thinks of me! He thinks I'm some dumb little kid who can't make friends! That I'm some loser who doesn't have a life! He thinks EXACTLY WHAT HE SAID! He thinks I'm fucking pathetic!
– AND HOW EXACTLY ARE YOU PROVING ME WRONG RIGHT NOW?!
– Fucking stop this already! Just GIVE IT BACK! – You were livid now, pushing past Kie and reaching for it, but John yanks it back like it’s some kind of trophy just so he can see you rage.
– You’re not even listening to me! All this shit you’re doing, the screaming, the shouting, the running off to Barry or whoever the hell else— That’s exactly the shit you’d pull when we were kids! It’s like you haven’t grown up at all! You’re fucking doing this or attention!
– Fuck you. Just fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!
JJ’s the only thing standing between the two of you now, a wall in the middle over which the two of you scream. Kie holds you by the shoulders, pleading.
You’re glad for them at that moment, because you can’t be sure you wouldn’t scratch your brother’s eyes out if he came too close.
Your head is spinning. You wanna tear your hair out of your head. And as if what was going on right then wasn’t bad enough, JJ has the gall to open his mouth and tell you to step back: – He’s right. You’re being childish. Just let this go.
You were about to, until he said it.
– I need to let it go?! He was the one that started this shit in the first place! HE took my phone! HE started screaming! HE’S the one calling me fucking names and talking to me like a fucking child! And I’m the one that needs to let this go?! NO! FUCK YOU JJ! THIS SHIT DOESN’T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU! FUCK OFF!
– STOP TALKING TO HIM LIKE THAT, HE’S MY BEST FRIEND!
– Yeah?! And you’re doing such a great job of showing it right now, huh? Freaking out over some scratches on his back and trying to make it into some great betrayal! You’re out of your fucking mind!
– FUCK YOU!
– You’re obsessed! You’re losing your mind over some stupid shit that doesn’t even matter! You can’t fucking handle it when people do things without telling you because you think you know better about their lives than them! Guess what John: Maybe people don’t owe you shit!
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head and pointing at you as if he was some great detective: – You’re going really hard on this aren’t you? You’re hiding something! I know you are!
– What?! Are you seriously accusing me of–? God, you’re insane! GET OVER YOURSELF JOHN! The world doesn’t revolve around you and your little posse!
You can hear a rumble in the distance, the roar of an engine you couldn’t quite place, and you look away, the rage within you giving way to exhaustion. You want this to end, but John keeps going:
– Stop tearing into my friends just because you don’t have any of your own, okay?! This jealousy, this envy shit, it isn’t even funny. It’s just pathetic! IT JUST IS! The fact that nobody gives a fuck about you is not anybody else’s fault! – The words came out like venom, sharp and deliberate, but they struck true.
You kept your eyes on him for a moment, jaw clenched, face still. You could see JJ and Kie looking between themselves in the tension, sort of hesitating, completely clueless as to what to do.
Your brother’s face fell, slowly, as if he was reliving every word that had just come out of his lips in a play-by-play. The emotions flitted through his face like seasons, first it was confusion, then shock, then regret, and finally guilt.
You wished you could’ve said something, something cold, and cruel. Something that he’d be thinking about for a long time. But you couldn’t. Just the effort that it took for you to be able to breathe without crying had frozen the words within your throat. So you were kept silent, took the beer from the railing, and pushed past him.
– Wait- – John reached for you, but you shrugged him off before he could get the attention he needed to formulate his next words. You didn’t want to hear him, be near him, you didn’t want him to exist.
Instead, you look out into the lawn.
– Look, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just- John falters mid-word, the rumble of the engine cut through the tension like a knife, low and guttural, growing louder as it approached. Both of you froze, your argument abruptly suspended as the sleek black Range Rover pulled into view. You frown for a moment, trying to piece together the fragments of memory you have of seeing this car, but JJ scoffs from behind you on the porch, and when you see Kiara’s expression twist into one of contempt, you know exactly who it belongs to.
The driver stays put, engine still running as if the car itself was too impatient to linger. And for a moment no one gets out.
You approach carefully.
You’ve never spoken much to Rafe Cameron, you only saw him whenever he came to see Barry, and even then, it was always quick. A glance, a smile, a double entendre he says while he eyed you, without ever addressing you directly.
You look over your shoulder again to see if maybe he’s come for Sarah. But she’s been laying in John’s room all evening, and the doorway is empty, no sign of her.
John’s face twists back into anger. He wraps a hand around your arm, stopping you in your tracks. His jaw is clenched as he looks at the Rover, and he seems eager, like a cat ready to pounce.
The passenger door swings open right then, and you see him. Not Rafe, not Topper, or any of his Kook friends, but Barry — A grin splits his face as he steps out, the light catching his golden tooth as his smile widens, a cigarette dangling from his lips. – Well, look who’s got the whole neighborhood in an uproar! – He drawls, voice teasing but warm. – What’s going on, darlin’? You look ready to throw hands.
Despite yourself, you feel your shoulders relax, the weight of the argument easing slightly. – Barry! – You’re surprised by how light your voice sounds as you run to meet him, standing arms open before Rafe’s car, he wraps you up and spins you around quickly, his laughter blowing against your hair. – What’s going on?What’re you doing here?
– Phone call got cut short. – He winks as you pull away, glancing over your shoulder at John. His smirk widens, deliberately provoking. – Figured I’d swing by and see what the fuss was about. Looks like I walked into a family reunion.
– It’s none of your business. – John snaps.
Barry raises his hand in mock surrender, his grin never faltering. – Touchy, touchy. Don’t worry, man. I’m not here to stir the pot. Looks like y’all already took care of that.
– Sorry about the call. – You whisper. – Things are kinda weird around here.
– Not your fault, sweetheart, – He taps your arm with his pointer finger, fixing you a smile as he dragged a hand through his hair and threw the cigarette on the ground. – Some people just don’t know how to let things go.
– I’ll tell you what’s letting go, Barry. You’re gonna let go of my sister and fuck off back to your rat’s nest!
– Ignore him. – You beg, no less worried as you hear your friend whisper an “always do”. – So. What is it?
– What? I can’t just be here for the pleasure of your company? – He pats your back softly, feet swaying as he speaks. – You wound me, sweetheart.
– You’re a peach, Bee. A real charm. But I’m guessing this favour you’re about to ask me isn’t a work-from-home sorta thing. You’ll have my company regardless.
Barry leans against the open car door, his smile fading. He breathes in deep. – You’re not gonna like it.
– Well, I hate you already, – You teased. – can’t see how things could get worse.
– I was gonna tell you on the phone, but the troglodyte over there wouldn’t let me. – He looks over his shoulder, and back at you. – There’s a party, over at figure eight. Boss’ gonna be there. You remember him, right?
A shiver tore through you just at the thought. – How could I forget?
Barry chuckles, shaking his head. – Yeah, well. He kinda likes you, y’know. Thought maybe you’d tag along, help me keep things smooth. – You felt your chest tighten. He pauses, eyes glinting with something unreadable. – Missed you, too. Thought maybe your boy over there was keeping you on house arrest again.
– I can hear you, Barry. – John said coldly, stepping forward.
– Oh good. – He didn't miss a beat. – Thought maybe I’d have to file a request just to get five minutes with her. What’s next, man? A sign-in sheet? You running this place like a damn prison, now?
– Shut up! – Your brother snapped again, his fists clenching. JJ came up behind him, eyes fixed on the arm Barry held over your shoulder.
– Relax, big guy. Nobody’s stealing anything from you, we can’t all break into people’s houses and take their money while they’re gone.
You cringe at the memory. – Barry, please. Don’t.
– Me? I’m not doing anything, sweetheart. We’re just playing around, right, boys? – He chuckled, squeezing you closer as he looked at them.
JJ was the one to speak then: – Get off of her, man.
– Shit, what am I now? A cradle robber? – Barry looks at you with a pointed smile, but he’s not talking to you, he’s just riling them up. – You don’t even like me like that, do you, sweetheart? Unless you do, and then, well…
JJ grabs him by the shirt, but Barry just keeps laughing. – I’m telling you to get the fuck off of her, man!
– JJ, chill the fuck out, what are you doing? – You push him back, away from your friend. There’s something in his eyes you can’t quite read as he meets your gaze. Anger, frustration, sadness. His hands rest on your shoulders, and he opens his mouth, as if to tell you something, but Barry’s laughter cuts in again, and suddenly all you see in his face is anger.
– He’s pushing it! – The blonde retorts, almost childishly.
– Ooh, down pitbull! – He’s almost cackling now, and you can hear a second laugh, something shorter, softer, coming from the car. Rafe’s looking at you too, you can feel his eyes on you. – I’d watch out if I were you, John B! Looks like your buddy here is looking to catch some friendly fire.
– Barry, for fuck’s sakes!
He just laughs at your words, resting his hand on the car door again. – Sorry, sweetheart. But it’s just too easy! – You hesitate, looking back at your brother, whose scowl has deepened. – C’mon, let’s just go.
– She’s not going anywhere with you, – John spits the words out like poison, stepping in to stand next to JJ. – Not with you, and sure as hell not with that psychopath! – You can hear a scoff from within the Range Rover, Rafe seems to be enjoying himself. Enough that he just sits back and grins, waiting for your brother to keep talking.
Barry lets out a whistle. – Ooh, now we bringing Rafe into it? You’re scared of a little country club action, huh? What’s the problem, John B? Brother-in-law not good enough for you?
– What the fuck did you just say to me?!
– Oh, for fuck’s sakes. Stop it. Just stop this shit, I’m tired of it.
– Not my fault your brother’s got a stick up his ass.
– Barry! – You sigh, feeling the limit of your patience encroaching as you turn around. – Give me back my phone, John.
– No. – He swiped it out of your reach again. – You’re not fucking going, and you're gonna thank me for it later. Barry is bad news, as it is. But Rafe? – His eyes darken. You can hear that same chuckle again, and you can tell they're looking at each other. – Rafe’s even worse. You’re not going anywhere near that nut job if I can help it.
– You hear that, Country Club? Surfer boy’s scared of you!
– I swear to God, man. If you don’t shut up–
You pushed him back, long past your wit’s end:
– Quit it. I’m getting really fucking tired of your shit, John. I’m not joking, give it back.
He looks at you for a moment. He'd managed to keep his face smooth for the duration of this talk, though he never could hide his temper, but now he looks as if he could kill you:
– Come and get it, if you want it. It’s right here. – He held it out over his head, smiling without a hint of joy on his face.
– Are we really doing this, right now?
– You said you wanted it. Well, do you?
You look over your shoulder, pondering the options.
Barry’s eyes meet yours as he climbs back into the car, smirking. – Door’s open, sweetheart. Tick tock.
John’s voice cut through your thoughts, sharp and angry. – She’s not going! – He tried to grab you again, but you didn’t think, you just moved.
You ducked under his grasp, twisting away before he could get a hold of your arm. The sudden motion made your heart race, adrenaline flooding your veins as you bolted toward the car. John cursed behind you, his footsteps heavy on your heels, but he was too slow to catch you.
Barry already held his hand out, his golden grin flashing into laughter as you dove inside. You barely registered the hand that steadied you before you landed ungracefully in his lap, your momentum knocking the breath out of both of you.
– Damn, sweetheart. – Barry drawled, his hands catching your waist steady, where Rafe’s had just been, and the door closes behind the two of you with a bang. – Didn’t know you missed me that much.
– Drive! – You snapped, ignoring the heat rushing to your face.
Rafe’s laughter erupts from beside you, loud and mocking, as the car lurches forward. You glance up just in time to see him smirking at you, his hand casually draped against the steering wheel. The engine revs beneath you as the Range Rover moves, kicking up a cloud of dirt.
You turn around to look at the window, catching sight of JJ and John as they stumbled to a halt. Your brother shouts something – Your name, maybe, or a string of curses – But the roar of the engine drowns him out.
Barry chuckles against you, leaning back on the seat with his arm around your middle. – Remind me to do that again sometime.
– I will man, don’t worry. – Rafe laughs.
– The two of you are sick. – You can feel Barry nodding, his laughing lips pressed against your shoulder, the road before you suddenly becoming clear. They say something else, something you don’t quite catch, as the situation finally dawns on you:
You’re in a car with Rafe Cameron. And it's too late to go back.
#obx#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron smut#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank smut#jj obx#jj outer banks#outer banks jj#dark!jj maybank x reader#dark!rafe cameron x reader
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Nights Like This: Part One
Roman x black!oc
Warnings: language, fluff, smut
Word count: 2.2k
a/n: this was originally planned as a one shot, but i’m indecisive as hell, so i guess we’ll see 👀. also, tiny reminder but this is my first time writing fan fiction/ smut, so please go easy on me guys 😭
Zoe can’t fathom a better way of spending her birthday, this is truly all she could ever ask for. While she’ll never understand how she got so lucky to have Roman in her life in the first place, words can’t even begin to describe what this man means to her. Zoe in no shape or form is a materialistic person, yet somehow every year Roman manages to go all out and spoil her with shit she doesn’t need, but is still extremely grateful for.
And while this amazing day of shopping and sightseeing in Colorado is coming to an end, she’s exhausted and more than excited to get back to the hotel and gain some energy back before going out to dinner. She try’s her absolute best to ignore the fact that her feet feel worn out and in immense pain, her pride won’t allow her to show it, so she decides to keep it to herself. Especially, since Roman’s know-it-all ass told her not to wear boots with heels in the first place, but, she hates being wrong and would rather die than give him that satisfaction.
The walk to the car felt fucking eternal, Zoe couldn’t help but to sigh in relief once she was finally able to sit down. After Roman cut on the engine, he took a minute to study her, letting out a small chuckle, “I know you’re in pain baby, you don’t gotta hide it.” She immediately shot a glare at him, and rolled her eyes, “I’m not in pain, just tired.”
“You sure about that?, because when you came out of the bathroom earlier, I could’ve sworn it looked like you were limping…”, he teased. Zoe’s mouth dropped, and she playfully slapped his shoulder.
“First of all, I wasn’t limping. I was just very inspired by that Katt Williams show we watched, and decided to practice my own pimp walk…”
He couldn’t help but to let out a loud chuckle and defeatedly threw his hands in the air, “Oh so that’s what we’re doing huh?” One of the many things that Roman loves about Zoe, is her sense of humor. No matter what mood he was in, or what he was going through, she never failed to make him laugh. Roman knew her stubborn ass was lying through her teeth, but it was her birthday after all, so he decided to let it go and let her have this win.
The drive back was over an hour long, and while the beginning of the car ride was full of conversation and laughter between the two, the heater made Zoe feel extremely warm and cozy, which ended in her falling asleep.
When they finally arrived to the hotel, Roman gently ran his fingers through her hair, swiping some behind her ear, hoping he would wake her up without startling her, “We’re here, baby.”
“Shit, I don’t even remember dozing off,” she muttered. Roman smiled at her and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I’m tired too, let’s go take a nap.” Damn this man knows the key to her heart, she will never deny herself an opportunity of taking a good ass nap.
They eventually make it back to their hotel room, and as they are about to unlock their door, the fucking hotel key card starts glitching again. After multiple failed attempts, and seeing red blinks over and over again, they eventually were able to get in.
The first thing Zoe does when she makes it in the suite, is kick her stupid ass boots off. There is nothing she wants more in this moment than getting out of this outfit. As she’s digging through the drawer trying to find some comfortable clothes to change into, she suddenly feels his warm chest press against her back. He slowly wraps his big arms around her waist, his tall frame now towering over her. She couldn’t help but to let out a soft moan when she felt his breath on her neck, his prickly beard making his was down her collarbone, his soft lips showering her with gentle kisses. Her knees were growing weaker by the second, but as good as this felt, she wanted to talk to him first.
“Thank you, Roman,” she says, and before he starts to tell her she doesn’t need to thank him, like he always does she rushes and cuts him off. “Even though you never listen to me when I say I don’t need anything, the effort you make truly means to the world to me. I just wish you’d let me do the same for you.”
Roman turns her around to face him, he uses his thumb and index finger to gently guide her face to look at him. “Zo, I don’t need anything , I just need you. I need you to understand that there is no me without you. As long as I have you, there ain’t shit else I’ll ever want, or need.”
Zoe knows how Roman feels about her, but it’s something about hearing him express it, that makes her tear up. She grabs his face, pulling him in by his beard and kisses him. “I love you, baby.” He puts his hand on the small of her back and presses her towards him. “I love you more, but we should go take this nap before your ass gets cranky.”
…………..
Zoe was the first to wake up, seeing he was still in a deep sleep, she decided to quietly step away and take off her makeup that she shouldn’t have slept with in the first place.
As soon as she stepped out the bathroom and glanced towards the bed, she saw he was awake. Roman looked at her and gave that mischievous ass grin he gives when he's about to be on demon time. “Come here,” he motioned her over with his fingers, his hair was now resting on his shoulders fully out of his bun. His voice was groggy as hell from just waking up, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit how extremely turned on she was.
She wasted no time and climbed on top of his hulking body, straddling him and almost immediately feeling his erection through the thin fabric of her pants. “Looks like someone is excited to me,” she chuckled. “Baby, i’m always excited to see you,” he whispered, while lightly squeezing her ass. She began to kiss his jaw and slowly made her way down to his neck, making a trail down his chest and abs. As she started to reach for the hemline of his boxers, he flipped her over so that he was now on top of her.
“Nah baby, let me take care of you,” he growled. Before she could protest, Roman got up, took off his shirt and walked towards the foot of the bed. This had her slightly confused, but before she could ask why he got up, he grabbed her by the thighs and slid her down to the edge of the bed. His fingers gripped the top of her pants and underwear, she watched him as he eagerly pulled them down. Propping herself on her elbows, she was now staring at his hair draped over his tan broad shoulders.
Roman’s warm breath over her exposed pussy, made her more soaked than she already was. He teased his finger up and down her wet lips, causing her to instantly moan. “Mmm, daddy please.” She started to grip the back of his head when he stuck two fingers in, her hips subconsciously bucking forward once he started to curl them towards her g spot.
“Please what, baby?,” he groaned and started to pick up the pace, her pussy already dripping and squelching for him. “mmm p-please eat my pussy,” she whimpered.
“Anything you want baby, doesn’t daddy always make you feel good?” Roman flattened his tongue on her needy clit, and started licking and sucking on her essence. “You taste so fucking good baby.” Her panting becomes heavier and heavier as he feasted on her, almost as if he was starving. The combination of him eating her out and fingering her while hitting that spot, had her on the edge of coming.
“f-fuck baby i’m gonna come.” Her pussy was clenching around his fingers, he could feel it. “Come for me, right on my tongue baby,” he used his free hand to grip her thigh and bring her even closer.
Zoe, felt like she was on another fucking planet. As he brung her even closer, she used her grip on his head and started to grind her pussy against his face. “Just like that baby, give it to me,” he moaned. She let out a loud scream as her orgasm took over, her body jerked as Roman kept devouring her pussy while she rode her orgasm out.
“Such a good girl, baby.” He made his way back on top of her, and gave her a sloppy sensual kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue, made her want to come all over again.
While Zoe was catching her breath, still recovering from her earth shattering orgasm, Roman got up and brung her a rag from the bathroom and helped her clean herself. She watched him, eyeing his God like physique that she’s convinced she’ll never get used to.
Roman stood up and kissed her temple, “I’m gonna be on the balcony for an hour or so baby, I’m behind some meetings, so I gotta go make some calls.”
“That’s okay, I have some emails I gotta catch up on too.” As Roman heads out the back door, Zoe goes to sit at the desk in the corner of the suite and starts to catch up on some work emails that she’s been ignoring. Not even 15 minutes in, and she’s already bored out of her mind. She closes her laptop and decides to do something productive. Other than actual work of course, because that’s obviously boring as hell.
Boom. An idea hits her. Zoe decides that she is going downstairs to talk to the hotel receptionist, and ask if they can do something about their annoying ass key card that barely fucking works. She starts by tearing the room apart looking everywhere she can think of. Roman was the last person that had it, and as much as she’d like to ask him, she knows she can’t bother him during his important meetings.
The first place she thinks to check is his wallet, when she sees it’s not there she moves on to the next spot, which was the drawers next to his side of the bed. Fail. Shits not there either, and after scrummaging around the whole suite for damn near twenty minutes, she was thinking of giving up. And that’s when her memory hits. His fucking duffle bag. Roman tends to work out twice a day, and lately he’s been making sure to put the key card in his duffle bag before he leaves, simply because his over dramatic self can’t seem to let go of that one time he forgot it, and Zoe had slept through his phone calls and loud ass knocks.
Zoe goes to grab the duffle bag from the closet and opens it, she unzips the small pouch in the inside and immediately spotted the key card, she couldn’t help but to let out a small sigh of relief. As she goes to pull it out, something falls out and she hears a small thud. Looking down, shiny gold wrappers immediately catch her eye. She bends down and examines what turns out to be, two magnum condoms that are now on the floor.
Her mind starts racing, and she immediately begins to go through his bag. As she starts to pull his clothes out, she stumbles across an empty condom wrapper that had clearly been used. What the fuck. In this exact moment Zoe felt her heart drop in her fucking stomach, her eyes instantly becoming watery. She has been with Roman for over two years, and not once have they ever used a fucking condom. And it’s in remembering this specific fact, that sends her into full panic. She starts crying uncontrollably not knowing what to do, as much as she would like to go outside and confront his lying ass, the thought of having to look at him makes her sick to her fucking stomach. Who the fuck is he using these on?
Her chest starts to feel tight, and she knows she needs to leave before he comes back inside. Zoe puts on her coat and grabs her purse, throwing her phone inside it. She runs out of the room and gets on the nearest elevator as fast as she can. Once she makes it to the main lobby, she beelines outside and manages to get a taxi within five minutes. She quickly put her phone on silent, knowing Roman would call and text her nonstop once he realized she was gone.
Zoe doesn’t even have a sliver of an idea on what the hell she was going to do. The only thing she knew in this exact moment, was the fact that she had to get the fuck out of here, and fast.
#roman reigns#the tribal chief#otc#roman reigns x black!oc#roman reigns x black oc#roman reigns x oc#roman reigns fic#roman reigns x black reader#roman reigns fanfiction
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would you consider doing a prompt in which the MLs have the same soulmate marks but they are enemies? you can choose the driver and the logistics i would love to see a fic like this by youu
Thank you for the ask!!
I had this in my inbox for so long bc I'm indecisive and I couldn't choose who to write it for, so there's a poll to choose. There will be a part 2. Full story is up!!
What? How?
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Everyone grew up hearing about soulmate; from their family or friends or relatives. Most people looked forward to meeting their soulmate, some people wanted to defy fate and some people never got to meet their soulmate.
Y/N thought she was a part of the soulmate less crew, "I'll register you with soulmatch" her mother told her. Soulmatch was an agency, a app or a website, which ever one you chose to help two soulmate less individuals get together and find companionship in each other. Her mother wanted her to start looking, Y/N couldn't careless since her job kept her busy and she was barely at home anyways. Y/N was a race engineer in Formula One; a job she worked tirelessly to achieve. It barely gave her any time to wonder where her soulmate was. She got to work with some of the most talented and smart people to make machinery that made the car go really fast. But now she was working with her driver to make sure the race went as smoothly as possible with the best result as possible; sometimes at the cost of the other driver. "Are you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts. "Yeah" she replied. "I'll let you know once you match with people" her mother stated before cutting the call.
Her parents were late bloomers themselves; meeting each other in their late 20's and early 30's so she didn't understand the fuss her mother was making. She was in her prime and a soulmate would come along when he wanted to. Y/N travelled the world; if a soulmate existed, she would run into him eventually.
There were a lot of times you would wish someone was your soulmate and there were a lot of times you wished someone wasn't. For Y/N, it was her driver's teammate. She hated his guts; ever since she had joined, he had been a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember. He would start fights with her if she prioritised her driver, and honestly, who else would she prioritise. She had good strategies that would work in her driver's favour sometimes and he couldn't tolerate it. Starting fights and unnecessary arguments. The team was done with them, the paddock was done with them and the DTS crew always had so much fun.
It was any other race weekend, the two of them had been at odds since FP1. Y/N tried to be calm and mature about it; she didn't want to cause issues for the team. Hence, she ignored any thing and everything he said. It was getting on his nerve; she was ignoring him and behaving extremely rudely to him. It all came to a head when the team finished P1 and P3 with Y/N's driver winning the race. You can already imagine the resentment brewing as he got out of the car.
During the post race interview, there were jabs being thrown but it was during On The Sofa; he said something, he later realised he shouldn't have. But it was too late; Y/N was already there and a fight broke out. A lot of commotion, the media having a field day, the P1 and P2 driver trying to get them to stop, their team trying to stop them and PR having a crisis. The crowd went silent as Y/N pulled her sleeve up to reveal her soulmate mark which matched the her enemies's soulmate mark exactly; now visible due to the scuffle. A loud whisper broke out in the crowd, Y/N looking at him and then his mark as the pair tried to process what was happening. Over whelmed with emotions, Y/N stormed off, leaving the crowd but most of all her soulmate stunned.
Y/N was reeling from the revelation; the man who was supposed to be her soulmate was also the man she hated the most, or did she dislike him? All of these thoughts and emotions swirled inside her as she wondered what just happened and how she had gone this long before finding out. Did he know? Did he hate her because he knew? What was going on and what was she supposed to do? She felt her world crash and her phone wouldn't stop ringing. She looked at the caller and it was her mum. "Congratulations darling" she bellowed. Y/N was confused, "I saw you found your soulmate" her mum said when she got no reply. "How did you find out?" she asked. "It's on the news, sweetheart" her mother stated. While Y/N was still reeling from the revelation, F1's social media accounts had already posted about the two sworn enemies actually being soulmates and how it was straight out of a fairytale. Y/N wanted to disappear. Why was this happening now? she wondered, exhausted from the events of the day.
#gguk-n#ask request#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fic#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#lando norris x reader#max verstappen x reader#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#carlos sainz x reader#fernando alonso x reader#soulmate au#enemies to soulmates#enemies to lovers
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Rate your children (ocs)
Who is the favorite? The first born? The problematic fave? The one you honestly don't give enough attention? The one you would hate if they weren't yours? The one you would go ape shit if anything happened to them? The most popular?
This is legit SUCH a hard question TT I love all my characters................
I don't think I have a favorite, but I have a soft spot for Cot since he was one of my first OCs (he wasn't a yandere back then lol)!
Plus Cot is super cute + fun to draw imo :3c
I also adore Aizono for similar reasons! He was a really old OC of mine that came about because I was like... what if the Love God was pining after a mortal?
2. The problematic fave... I mean, they're yanderes so I feel like they're all kind of problematic LOL Ig from my yanderes though, Tynan is probably the most problematic bc he's completely aware of how awful his actions are, he just doesn't care.
He's a man of his own desires, even if he loves Darling haha
3. I feel like I don't give enough attention to a lot of my OCs tbh TT I'm just one measly living organism with way too many OCs lol + I actually have a LOT of OCs I haven't even shared yet!! I love designing characters + writing different prompts so I just end up w a lot of stuff I think.
I do want to revisit my Vampire MILF and DILF though!
(I just think they're hot + I want to be pampered!!!!)
4. As for the one I would hate if they weren't mine... I can't really think about it rn! I feel like all my OCs appeal to me in some way for now... who knows, though? Maybe I'll make an OC I heavily dislike in the future LOL
5. In regards to who I'd go ape shit for if they were hurt... I don't really know, honestly. Maybe any of my human OCs? Most of my non-human/monster OCs can handle themselves just fine, but my human ones are (1) a weak guy who's obsessed with you, (2) a sickly guy who's obsessed with you, and (3) a rich crossdresser who's obsessed with you. None of them are strong tbh so they're much more likely to be hurt LOL
Like, no offense to Sammy, the weak guy who's obsessed with you, but he's kind of pathetic LOL
6. I think the most popular OC I have is either Mulsu or Mason!
I feel like all of my OCs get attention though, so I'm super grateful for it <3
Wow, this post got super long, but it was fun to do!! I'm super indecisive so the answers may change in the future but for now, I think these are accurate haha
(Yeah... when I post more OCs, the answers will def change haha)
Tysm for reading!! <3
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