#currently going feral over this ask
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Hey! I’ve got a request!
Either Tyler or Josh from twenty one pilots (I don’t mind!) Black cat X golden retriever (preferably reader is the black cat), angst with prompt 20!
No worries if you’re not keen!
Thanks!!!
Hellos anon!!
I am SO keen on this ask, I'm such a sucker for the Black Cat x Golden Retriever trope, and I am typing up a draft as we speak!! It may take a while for me to post it... most of my oneshots will probably fall within the 8K - 15K word range and that takes me a little while.
Sincerely, Nessie
#will there be a happy ending?? idk#you didn't specify angst with happy ending#maniacal laughter#currently going feral over this ask#look out for “Or Am I On The Outside?”#The LochNess Monster's Requests
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parentlock for the soul?

His dear Watson <\3
#going feral over them currently#he��s just so GENTLE WITH HER#have mercy on John’s soul when he walks in to the flat to see this#I for one would probably spontaneously combust :)#my art#ask#sherlock holmes#johnlock#john watson#sherlock#bbc sherlock#Rosie Watson#parentlock
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YOU CAN DO IT YOU CAN DO IT YOU CAN DO IT! 🎉🎉🎉 CHEERING YOU ON, YOU BEAUTIFUL WRITER, YOU!!! (REMEMBER TO TAKE BREAKS)
AAAAA THANK YOUUUUU!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
I'M DOING MY ABSOLUTE BEST, there's just so many character interactions that are giving me ISSUUUEEESSSSS, it's so hard doing character interactions with Candybug and the other core four without Vanellope nearby as a buffer DKSJDKFJ BUT I WILL GET THROUGH IT!!! 🫡🫡🫡 I'M SO CLOSE TO MY ALL-TIME FAVOURITE CHAPTERS I JUST GOTTA FINISH THIS DANG HUMP OF WEIRDNESS IN-BETWEEN AAAGGGHHHH
#SEND HELP I'M STRUGGLING#I'm ok I swear I'm just also dying KSDJSDKJSDKF#GOD THE LAST 3 CHAPTERS DUDE... I'M GOING FERAL. I WANNA POST EM SO BAD. *BUT I GOTTA DO THE OTHER TWO FIRST*#Chapter 8 may be my current favourite but these other ones you guys.... THESE OTHER ONES. I'M GOING NUTS OVER HERE.#UGH I'M SO IMPATIENT LMAO#WRITER PROBLEMS#Text Post#Asks#Wreck It Ralph#Candybug#Vanellope#KillSwitch
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abi’s three hundred one hundred follower celebration: choose your three favorite charmed ships | chris halliwell & bianca atwood
the absolutely chokehold these two have on me. enemies to lovers. changing sides and becoming a better person. finding love when you didn’t think yourself worthy of it. finding this one piece of happiness is a world destroyed and having to sacrifice it to the save the world that never did anything for you. risking your love on the hope that you’ll meet again in a new world.
#charmed#chris halliwell#bianca#chris x bianca#abis100fc#aesthetics#charmed edits#ogwork#usermargaret#hi! sorry i know i didn't ask before tagging you but i saw you going feral (affectionate) over chris and bianca#and you're the one who initially requested my three favorite ships like. two years (oops) ago so uhhh yeah#hopefully that's okay! okay cool yeah#fun fact here is my initial tags from like. two years ago when i fucking finished this bitch (current thots in pararentheses)#i spent eight hours on this on accident without moving#it's now 1:30 (i am queueing this for context)#the middle shippy bit isn't my favorite but i spent about four hours legitimately just trying to find aesthetics for them#and like i got a fair amount of quotes and stuff but actual aesthetic pictures? nope#which is why i ended up with the two edited screenshots in there#so if the middle bit looks bad: pretend it doesnt#the other two will. not be this detailed bc again EIGHT HOURS#(current me note: ha ha ha ha YOU DUMB BITCH)#i need to eat. and pee. and go to bed i have ignored literally every part of being a person for the last eight hours on accident.
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a shot of whiskey at night has been doing wonders for my nerves. not to sound like I got my prescription from a cowboy-doctor or something, but it's near instant relief
#[static]#my ocd has been worse than it has been in months and it makes me feel feral-animal levels of anxious#as a general rule I never drink; never much liked the taste of it#the anxiety has been so bad that I've been trying all sorts of remedies on top of the healthy coping tools I have in my pocket#I'm not currently insured so I can't go to my normal doctor and ask for anxiety medication#but the moment I get insurance again in June ... you can bet I'll be making some phone calls#I just need to be conked over the head and put to sleep for a month maybe that'll help#I turned to trying whiskey as a last ditch effort and I'm grateful its helped ... settles my nerves enough where I can actually sleep#and not wake up still in a state of deep stress and anxiety#do not take this as medical advice if you're experiencing anxiety/ocd#i know my limits very well and am highly aware of the downward slope that self-medicating can lead to#*gestures to my entire family* I've learned from their history and have always been hyper aware of vices/crutches#but when a man can't sleep nor think except for the constant spiral of anxiety sometimes you have to find temporary aid
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well i’m sure flattered - classic heavy fictive
Hii heavy
#current going feral#(ooc tho im a fictive too#and taking people simping over your source has a compliment is so real man)#answered asks#ask
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Absolute Zeal
Sum. It was finally your turn to take care of your boyfriend, until everything twists around and you both end up a mess.
Warnings. NSFW, smut, fem reader, whiney zayne yes, unprotected sex, rough sex kinda, fluff. 2.2k words.
Notes. my exams are not stopping me (yet) from releasing yet another feral zayne.
Your boyfriend was absolutely out of it.
It wasn't long before Zayne noticed the effects of the chocolate, a slow warmth coursing through his veins, a slight sluggishness creeping into his movements.
He grinned lazily at you as you helped him outside, a slight wobble to his step. You were struggling, sure. But you kept up the tough act.
The cool air outside seemed to help clear his head a bit, but he was still far from sober, "my hero," he said, his voice still slightly slurred, "taking me home in my... slightly tipsy state. You're too kind.”
“Mhm, careful as you get in.” you instruct and Zayne obliges as he stumbled into the taxi, slumping against the back seat, trying to steady himself.
His gaze remained fixed on you as you climbed into the taxi after him. His eyes roamed over your face, “thank you," he murmured, "for taking care of me tonight.”
A hand smoothens to his cheek, up to his hair to comb it with your fingers before you tilt your head to peck his cheek, your hand encouraging him to rest on your shoulder.
He closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping him, feeling safe and cared for in your presence.
…
“wake up, honey.” you whisper into Zayne's ear to wake him up from his light slumber. His eyes blinking slowly to get back to his senses.
He leaned against you heavily, allowing you to guide him out of the taxi, a quiet murmur of thanks escaping him.
The taxi driver watched the whole interaction silently after you payed him. ah, the young. "I miss my wife." He sighed to himself before driving off.
Meanwhile, you were pitifully watching Zayne entering the wrong passcode to his own home.
His fingers fumbled against the keypad as he tried to input his passcode, his normally steady hands betraying his current inebriated state. He let out a frustrated grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration as he tried again.
"Just... need to get this thing right..."
"Let the person who actually remembers the passcode of your home to enter it." you successfully entered the passcode, the lock clicking open with a satisfying sound.
Zayne let himself be led onto the plush couch by you after taking off his coat for more movement, a deep sigh escaping him as though he were sinking into heaven itself.
He let his eyes close briefly, revelling in the comfort of the soft cushions. He cracked one eye open lazily, a soft chuckle escaping him as he watched you fuss over his coat, gently removing it and draping it on the back of a nearby chair.
And with a gentle tug, he pulled you down onto the couch with him, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.
You frown, “i should go get the hangover medicine—”
But his arm tightened around your waist in protest, pulling you closer to him before you could move. "No need," he shook his head, his voice huskier now. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice low, filled with a yearning that went beyond simple physical attraction.
"After i get the medicine, hm? You'll regret it later," though he seemed too insistent. You couldn't budge, even when he was drunk, his strength was impressive.
Zayne groaned softly, his grip on you unrelenting. He rested his head on your shoulder, his face nuzzling against your neck, "later,"
"how much more?" you ask, your fingers tracing his jawline to sort of soothe him.
He drew in a slow, steady breath, his body relaxing against you. "Just a moment more like this."
Zayne leaned into your touch, his head slightly tilting as though seeking more of your caress. His arm around your waist remained securely wrapped, holding you close, holding you like you were a precious treasure, something to be cherished.
You continue caressing his skin, moving down to his messed up buttons and tie, making him flutter his eyes shut.
Despite the alcohol, a part of him was still very much aware, very much receptive to your touch. The way you undressed him, unbuttoning his shirt to help him breathe better, felt like a gentle, loving caress.
This is no good. “On a second thought, I'll just shower," he said, attempting to smooth out his disheveled hair. "A shower will help clear my head.” Zayne stood up after taking his arms away from your body, a bit unsteady on his feet, but adamant to make it to the shower on his own. He staggered slightly, leaning against the nearest wall for support.
…
You head to Zayne's study room in the meantime to explore it a bit out of curiosity while the shower is running in the background. Your fingertips brushed over the snowman displayed on the desk neatly which makes your lips curve.
It was not long after until you hear him in the living room, opening his laptop to answer an urgent call. Listening to him speak a few words. Even in this state, Dr Zayne is working hard.
Once the call ends, you show yourself from your hiding spot, “Even Dr Zayne's showers are hurried.” you comment in amusement.
Zayne's lips quirked into a wry smile as he acknowledged your observation. "In my profession, efficiency is key," he replied, “but," he added, his tone softening slightly as he drew closer, "I can assure you, I wasn't rushing for anyone else but you." He reached out to tenderly cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm.
“It seems that.. The shower did not clear your head.”
"I suppose," he murmured, "you're quite intoxicating even without the alcohol.”
Zayne's next sudden advance caught you by surprise.
The unexpected aggression of pulling your arm towards him made you gasp. But as his lips pressed hard against yours, a surprised sound escaping your lips before you clung to him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you returned the kiss, matching his hunger with your own.
Your fingers tangled in his hair while his hands cupped your cheeks, pushing you back until you were stumbling against his desk where he caught you in time to prevent you from completely losing your balance.
His glasses steamed slightly with each gasping breath. He looked down at you once your lips part, his eyes darkening until your fingers nudged at his glasses which tipped them over slightly, yet Zayne impatiently brushed aside your hand's attempt to fix his glasses and instead took his glasses off in one swift motion.
Hot.
His lips sought yours once more, his kiss hungrier, more urgent than before as he pushed you back against his desk. The sound of books and papers scattering echoed and falling with a loud thud that you couldn't seem to care about for now.
His lips traced a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin there, and your chew slightly on your lower lip. His teeth nip along your collarbone, his tongue soothing the slight sting, then repeating the action again and again.
This won't do.
"… You're drunk," you bluntly state, trying to stand from the desk to walk towards the drawer, "I'm getting the hangover medicine—"
His hands darted out to grab your wrists, gently yet firmly, preventing you from moving any further, “please." His grip on your wrists remained steady, his thumbs stroking the insides of your wrists as he leaned against your chest as if you just rejected him.
“I never let myself touch alcohol,” he breathed heavily, and that's when you recognize the slight snowflakes surrounding you both.
“But for you, I broke that rule. Because of you, everything is spiraling out of control...”
…
Zayne kicked open his bedroom door, the force of it slamming against the wall and bouncing back slightly. Without breaking the heated kiss, he carried you to his king-sized bed, the plush comforter and silken sheets welcoming as he lays you down gently.
His hands were almost shaking when he pulled your top off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His fingertips traced the swell of your breasts, the delicate curves, before cupping them gently.
He dipped his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before he's almost whimpering while rubbing his cheek against your cleavage, the warmth seeping through your skin and it's impossibly hard to stop the soft moans when his fingertips brush mindlessly along your nipples.
You were both almost a panting mess when his hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he ground his own against yours. Even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel the evidence of his arousal, the hard length of him pressing and rubbing against your clothed cunt with such hurry.
"Wrap your legs around me," he commanded, his voice low, almost raspy before he's kissing you messily, all tongue and teeth clashing together combined with his quiet whines when he continues rutting into you.
His body shifts, an arm extending towards the drawer but you stop himself from taking anything out, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together instead.
He feels dizzy, and his hand squeezes yours before his other hand reaches for a pillow to place underneath your hips.
comfort comes first before he starts pounding into you.
Everything was gone. your panties, his belt and boxers all discarded away from his sight while he whispers your name as he grips his shaft to push his already leaking tip into your cunt to take whole.
“O-oh zayne—” A long, drawn-out moan spilled from your lips as Zayne filled you completely, stretching you around his hard, throbbing length. Your back arched off the bed, pressing your chest flush against his own, fingers digging into the muscular expanse of his back.
He was feral. He began to move, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, setting a rough, fast paced.
The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust, and your eyes roll all the way back as whines combined with his heavy breaths and whimpers fill the air.
“A-ah, fuck, honey—” was all you managed to spill out before he's thrusting into you harder when he felt every clench and flutter around his aching cock, the velvet heat driving him to new heights of ecstasy.
“Zayne, zayne, zayne!” you chant in repeat breathlessly, his lips tries to connect with yours when he also feels his impending release drawing too close.
“Y-your zayne is here—” he practically breathes out as he manages to peck your lips, “Mmhn c-coming—” Zayne tries to muffle his whines against your skin when his hips jerked erratically as he emptied himself inside you, wave after wave of searing hot seed spilling into you.
The feeling of Zayne's thick, pulsing cock throbbing and twitching within you made you cum instantly. Your walls clamped down around him like a vice as you rode out your shared climax, hips continuing to rock slowly into you before coming to a halt.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shared breaths, the rustle of sheets, the soft thump of his heart against yours.
…
You woke up in Zayne's bed, wrapped in his arms, a soft, contented sigh escaping you as you shifted slightly, feeling his warmth against your back.
The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. As you turned to face him, you see zayne breathe peacefully, and it brings a faint smile to your face.
He looked younger, almost boyish in sleep, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks.
His eyelashes are really long. you think, fingertips brushing over his eyelids delicately.
Zayne's eyelids soon fluttered at the light touch of your fingers, and a low, appreciative hum escaped him. He leaned into your touch, seeking more of your warmth and comfort.
Slowly, his eyes opened, a sleepy, warm look in them as he regarded you with a slow, drowsy smile. "Good morning, love,"
#zayne x reader#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#love and deepspace#dr zayne#lads x reader#zayne smut#love and deepspace zayne#zayne#dr zayne x reader#dr zayne x you#zayne x you#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace x you#pearlwrites☆
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for me?
summary - Satoru Gojo really loves making you feel better on your period, massages, your favorite chocolates - but maybe it's a little selfish, since he loves fucking you during it so much.
warnings PWP, this is super filthy aha, oral (f receiving - yes I'm crazy) fingering, period sex, TW - mentions of blood, Satoru is basically obsessed with fucking you during it, feral Satoru (he's kinda yandere tbh) kissing and licking your blood off his lips etc, messy ass sex. I'm pmsing mmkay aha </3

Satoru Gojo is the perfect boyfriend, especially when it is that time of the month, and you're cramping. He makes sure he has chocolate for you, the wine you enjoy, and your favorite movie so you two can cuddle after work. But he does all this for honestly the most selfish reasons!!!
He loves fucking you on your period.
It's all lowkey his sneaky little tactics, to get you to plead so sweetly for him to fill you up, to really get rid of those cramps. But he doesn't start off so obvious, in fact you don't even realize it is his end game, not when he makes sure your tampons and pads are stocked, not when he's running you a bubble bath and playing your favorite music.
You love your blue eyed freaky ass man, who's currently massaging your tummy as you both lay on the large soft suede couch in his living room. His big warm hand is pressing soothing circles against your lower tummy, making you whine out at how good it feels.
"More, Toru, please," you ask sweetly, and look back at him, pouting so pretty, as he smiles sweetly with his plump pink lips.
"More what, sweets?" Satoru's voice is literally a purr, he is pressing the heel of his hand against your sore tummy now, you feel the warmth spread lower, biting your lower lip as he moves, hard body against your back.
"lower, please?" He hums then, pressing lower, below your belly button, making you moan, the sound causing him to just leak sticky precum against his boxers.
"There, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, sighing at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. Your nipples press against your top, hurting then.
"Toru, will you massage them too?" He chuckles then, reaching around to grip your breast with the other hand, the arm that is under you, wrapping you in those lanky arms.
He begins caressing your nipples, one by one, squishing your breasts in his huge hands, and it feels so perfect, how sore they are and his teasing. His lips brush your neck, dying to slip inside you, but he always makes sure to have you writhing, begging for it first, since it was just too cute to make you beg for it. Especially the first few times when you were so shy and cute about it, but he knows your period has you even more turned on, and he loves to tease you.
"You're so spoiled, aren't you," he teases, silky white locks brushing your cheek as his teeth nip into your delicate skin, dragging across the side of your neck then. "Didn't answer me, use your words."
"Y-yes, you spoil me - mnh!" You're aching for him again, grinding your ass back against him, feeling his thick heavy length.
He's smiling now, pressing his hand harder, tugging you back more so you feel him. At first a little shy and embarrassed, you can't help but want him during your period now, but the way he loses his mind is indeed just a little bit concerning. "Need something else? Don't be shy baby," he says softly, playing with your nipple as his other hand presses even lower on your tummy. "Just tell me."
You whine out and he chuckles at that. "Lower," Satoru moans at that, his fingers brushing even lower over your pelvis, the warmth feeling so fucking good.
"Why don't you go get naked on that bed for me? I'll massage you everywhere," he whispers, plump lips against your ear. You bite back a moan, nodding, and when he finds you laying right over a black towel in a few moments he chuckles again.
"You wanted this the whole time, hmm?: He tugs your thighs apart, kissing up your tummy to your pretty tits, sucking a sore nipple in his hot mouth, making you whine out.
"Toru!" He moans at that, big hand slipping low until he's rolling the pad of his thumb on your clit, wetness pours out along with blood trickling, he moans at the sight of it, his eyes so dilated they're black now.
"Wanna cum, hmm sweetheart? That what my baby needs for her to feel better?" You nod weakly, and he smirks then. "Then say please, be a good girl."
You're arching your hips up for more, while he looks down with his lidded gaze, at the blood slipping from your puffy lips, trickling and making him groan at how fucking delectable it is. 'Mnh-' you can't manage a word, instead you're leaning up, trying to kiss him as his thumb gets slicker and slicker.
"Say please, sweetheart," he urges again, pulling his fingers back as he leans up. "You can use your words, can't you?"
"Please, Toru, ngh!" You're gushing now, he slips his fingers down your slit, now his fingers are just coated in your blood, you used to freak out at it, but now you're throbbing in need for more, his plump lips a breath away, tempting you as they part, and he stares hungrily at you, nostrils flaring. "Toru, in me please!"
"Hmm, not yet baby," you're whining at his teasing but then he's got his snowy head between your thighs, breath tickling your cunt, kissing up your inner thigh. "Fuck, look how messy you are."
"What are- ah!" Satoru hasn't done that yet, he's a munch but usually during your period he just teases your clit and fucks you. When he laps up the blood and arousal from your slit with a long stripe of his tongue, your heart pounds in your chest. "You can't!? Ah!"
He grins, white teeth blinding with red dripping from his pouty lips now. "Why can't I?"
You can't think of the right answer, that it's a deliciously filthy thing and feels way too good. The sight of him with blood on his mouth simply makes you gush more, he notices it too, spreading those puffy lips and watching your clear arousal mix with the bright crimson, making a mess. Satoru laps at it again, and instead of arguing, you're tugging his face against your cunt now, crying out. It feels so fucking good, you're so sensitive and his tongue is flicking inside your gummy walls, more blood pouring now, he devours it, groaning as it coats his face.
Satoru always thinks you're sexy on your period, something about your tits so swollen, the nipples all puffy and sensitive, and your scent makes him fucking feral. Now that he's coveted in your blood and you're convulsing, fucking his face, he can't help but rut his cock into the mattress, coating himself in you and whining at how badly he wants that mess everywhere, until you're both covered in it. He sucks your clit into his mouth, looking up at you, your breasts heaving, mouth wide and drooling.
"Toru, I'm c-close!" You're not fighting it now he notices, grinning against your cunt as he looks up at you under snowy lashes, his huge hands pressing into your ribcage.
You're so close to shattering for him, an embarrassing amount of blood is all over his face as he pulls back, slipping two long fingers in your soppy, bloody cunt, while you eye his pretty face, he's leaning over you, blood dripping from his mouth and chin.
"Cum again, make me such a fucking mess," he whispers in that husky voice, his pale white skin such a stark contrast to all the mess he's got from you on his skin. Shivers go down your body then, and how can you not cum for him, the echoing squelching mixing with your moans. "That's it, such a good girl, gonna help you feel better huh? can't talk baby, that just won't do."
How could you talk, he's so filthy with it, with his long fucking fingers scissoring in and out as you make a bigger mess. When he's licking blood off his lips like some psycho, stark white teeth flashing as he grins so psychotically at you. He's chuckling as he watches you teetering on the edge, huffing, fingers pressing into his biceps, your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering.
"Ask me the right way, sweetheart, and I'll give you anything," he says, devotion and insanity both in eyes almost black they're so dilated, feral grin on that face while you try to form a word.
"P-please, Toru please - lemme cum I - ah!" Satoru's watching you as he lets you find that release then, cramps subsiding blissfully as the orgasm rocks all over you, pure fucking ecstacy that has you drooling.
Satoru's cock hurts with how bad he wants to be inside the ruby red mess between your thighs, but he needs you begging even more. He slips his crimson coated fingers across your hips, decorating your smooth skin in it in stripes across your hip bones, just fueling his cock to leak more pre. You whine out, cunt pulsing now around nothing, biting your lower lip as your hand slip up his chest.\
"Need more, sweetheart?" You nod weakly, he takes one of your little hands then, gripping your wrist in his long fingers. "Then take more, hmm? such a good girl, there you go," he's encouraging you as you use shaky fingers to undo his pants, and soon his cock springs out, hot and heavy as it smacks your inner thigh. "Tell me what you need."
"Your cock inside me, please, ngh!" Satoru cups your face with one hand, the one somewhat not coated in blood and arousal, using the other to align his thick, mushroomed tip, the squishing and clicking loud and obscene in his room. He leans down low, blood dripping onto your plump, bitten lips, your heart pounds under your breasts then.
"Go ahead, don't be shy sweets," he teases, and you lean up, kissing the blood smeared on his lips, and when he sees it all over your mouth, he loses it, shoving his cock in and groaning, slamming his lips all over yours. You're gasping under him as he stuffs you so full, so wet from your arousal and blood it just slips in even though he's so fucking big. "Love this, don't you?"
"Y-yes," you're licking the coppery taste off your mouth as your boyfriend collectively loses it, biting your lips until they're bleeding too, while his cock fucks a mess out of you and back into you, the smacking of his skin and the soppy messy sounds echoing in your pounding ears. "Satoru!"
"That's it, you are so messy, aren't you? I make you feel better, don't I?" Satoru is huffing those words, blood splattering all up his cock and his flat, toned abdomen, while it spills down your thighs. "Answer me, baby."
"C-can't... talk..." he chuckles then, spreading your thighs even further as he pounds that thick, veiny cock, making you a mess for him, under him, your skin decorated in your own blood like pretty patterns from his artists fingers as he fucks into you. "Ah!" You're drooling, cumming all over his cock, the mess more and more, only urging Satoru further on, his whines against your ear as he grips your hair, slamming his cock so deep.
"I always take care of you, hmm? You love it, being so spoiled?" you're desperately nodding, still unable to do more than gasp and cling to him with messy fingers, nails pressing into his blood covered skin as he fucks you harder, deeper, slamming your cervix with that tip as he throbs in you. "Want me to fill you up, huh? Don't you baby?"
"Please," your weak little whisper is all he needs, cum hot and thick inside your cunt, filling you impossibly as he slows, eliciting one more orgasm with a roll of his hips and his teeth sinking into a sore nipple. Your hands entangle in his white locks, tinging them pinkish red as you cry out, and he's groaning. "Toru..."
"Fuck, you're a wreck, look at you," he's grinning, you are a fucking mess, he's got blood all over you, your trembling thighs, when he pulls out, cum mixing and tinging it pink, he squirts more and more cum out of that messy cock too, decorating your tummy with more and moaning. "God, look at you."
"Satoru..." You're taking several breaths, it looks like a whole fucking murder scene with your psycho, feral boyfriend who's spreading more of his cum and your blood all over. "Can we... shower?"
"Can I get some pictures?"
"Huh!?"
"Huh?"

Y'know I'm not even sorry LMAO not at all lmao
perm tags- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoblue-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny
#satoru gojo smut#gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#yandere x you#yandere gojo x reader#yandere gojo#divider by @uzmacchiato#yandere gojo satoru#satoru smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader
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“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰”


“Y’know you have to go back to Germany eventually, right?” You said while lying on 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 chest, listening to his heartbeat.
He sighs, dragging a finger up and down your spine. “I know, Liebchen [darling/sweetheart].” He pauses before continuing, “…I hate leaving you...” You had no response. You couldn’t tell him to just up and drop his career for you. Not that you would ever make him, or let him, do that in the first place. Soccer was all he knew, before you. And you were understanding of that. “Come with me.” He breaks the silence. You lifted your head up off his chest and gave him a confused look. “Micha, you know I can’t.” “Why not? You’re not even happy here in your own country.” He made a good point.
“So, what? Just drop everything, sell my house, my car, leave my friends and family, my life behind?” You were pacing around your room now, while he was still relaxed on your bed, his private area only being covered by the thin blanket. He was casually just flipping through the novel you were currently into. “Ja.” [Yes.] You stopped and glared at him. “Babe, this is serious. Do you realize what you’re asking of me?” “Mhm.” Your eye twitched at his nonchalance. He snaps your book shut and finally looks up at you. “I’ll take care of you. What was that thing you would always say? That you’re ‘meant to be a passenger princess’ or whatever? Well, now you can be.” He shrugs. “For the record, I only said that once or twice!” You look away sheepishly. He couldn’t help but smirk at your expression. “Riiiight.” He replied sarcastically, sitting up on the edge of your bed. He pulled the blanket off, exposing himself and patted his thigh, beckoning you to come. You practically melted at the gorgeous, naked sight of him and walked over. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in between his legs, “Come on, Engel [Angel].” His voice was soft. “And what about when you leave for games? I’ll be alone again, but in a foreign country.” You slightly pouted, playing with the blue ends of his hair. He shrugged again, “You will come with me to my games too. So einfach ist das.” [It’s that simple.] It wasn’t a bad idea.
You did love watching him play. You even got too into it at times.
He remembered one time when he’d been shoved and landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. As he laid there on the field, trying to get his breath back, he looked up into the stands and saw you screaming at the top of your lungs at the ref, almost about to climb over the railing to give the other player a piece of your mind. Thankfully, Ness was benched during that half of the game and was able to calm you down before security came. It turned him on… how feral you got for him…
He dicked you down so good that night.
He pulled you even closer so that you were straddling him now, his hands making their way under your robe and slowly up your sides. “S-So… you realize… you’re basically asking me to move in with you, right?” You clarified. His hands slowly moved up higher, thumbs lightly tracing circles on your bare skin. “That’s the general idea, ja.” He kept talking as if all this was no big deal. But now that you think about it, it would have happened eventually… so. He hummed as he gently cupped your breasts, taking your now hardening nubs between his index and middle finger. You slightly threw your head back, enjoying his touch. He grabbed ahold of your hips as you started to rock against him, his grip becoming a bit rougher as he started to guide your movements. He leaned in, pressing his lips against you; starting from your shoulder and making his way up to your neck. “M-Micha… we… we still need to discuss this…” You bit your bottom lip, trying to stay focused. “No more talking. Just fucking.” His voice was low and demanding; once bright blue eyes, now dark. “Sag einfach ja.” [Just say yes.] He whispers. You let out a content sigh. He really knew how to make you loosen up, didn’t he?
Tsk.
He undid the knot on your robe and let it slip off of you. A shiver ran through you as the cool air hit your skin, along with his touch. You moaned out a “yes” just as you sunk down onto his hard cock. You guys may actively fuck like rabbits, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his larger size. He gave you a second to adjust, before he wrapped your legs around his waist and stood up to place you on the edge of your vanity. “Ah! B-Babe! My makeup!” You whimpered as his hard thrusts caused all your things to topple over. He grabs your chin and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss to stop you from talking.
“I’ll buy you more in Germany.” He grunts.
© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
Join my tag list!📋
(𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒌 discord server👯♀️)
#michael kaiser#ella’s delulu thoughts#dividers by adornedwithlight#michael kaiser smut#michael kaiser fluff#blue lock#bllk#kaiser smut#michael kaiser blue lock#michael kaiser bllk#kaiser michael#bllk michael kaiser#blue lock michael kaiser#kaiser fluff#kaiser blue lock#bllk kaiser#blue lock kaiser#kaiser x you#kaiser x reader#kaiser michael smut#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x y/n#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x you#blue lock smut#bllk smut#blue lock x reader#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff
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dear god please I’m begging you on my hands and knees for more ghost soap reader action, you do it so right. I’m feral
“you do it so right” is a crazy compliment you’re going to make me AHHH 🫶🏼 (this is afab!reader btw just no pronouns)
simon knows his friend has a crush on you, didn’t have to be a fuckin’ psychic to work that one out.
it was written all over his fucking face from the moment he met you, still there when you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock.
“oh L.T, that’s fuckin’ nice”
you ignored the fact that, whilst you were the one with johnny’s cock in your throat, it was your boyfriend he’d chosen to speak to. you ignored it because you knew if you thought about it too long, you wouldn’t be lasting.
simon was practicing his patience on the other end of the couch, large hands gripping his thighs so he wouldn’t rip you off your knees and place you straight in his lap.
he was practicing generosity.
johnny had been whinging his ear off about how long it’d been since he’d had a good shag and he’d got a little too bold talking about how good L.T must have it at home.
“bet ye’ open the door and yer’ one s’already fuckin’ kneeling”
“that the first thing ye’ do when you get home? empty a couple loads?”
“gaggin’ for it with you, L.T- i bet”
simon had had enough, mainly because johnny was absolutely correct and he needed to go home and deal with it- but also because it was doing his head in.
the man had enough dirty thoughts about you to power the fuckin’ atom bomb and simon thought it might be worth putting it to work. there was gains to be made on multiple fronts.
johnny had one arm along the back of the couch and the other was at your face, fingers softly stroking your cheek as you made the most deplorable sounds.
somehow, you could make choking on cock a bit cute.
it wasn’t lost on simon the way your back was arching as you forced more of his friend into your mouth, your ass shaking a little bit as you stuck it out.
an invitation.
simon was practicing generosity but that didn’t mean he had to practice total altruism. there were gains to be made on all fronts.
so whilst you were knelt with your palms flat on johnny’s thighs, his hands coaxing your head in a rhythm, simon was on his knees behind you with your trousers around your knees.
two thick fingers took one long drag up your slit, prodding at your entrance and making you jolt forward. the sudden motion had you gagging on johnny, his head tipping back with a thick moan ripping out of him.
part of being so quiet meant simon would never say it, but maybe if you asked him at just the right moment he could tell you that, to him? he had the best view in the house.
best view in the fucking world.
johnny looked the picture of ruin as your spit dribbled down the side of his cock, matting his trimmed pubes to his skin. you were rolling your hips back into simon’s hand, reaching back to spread yourself a little for him.
“patience,” strong hand cracking down on your ass cheek. “you’ll get what you deserve”
your mouth was full but johnny could’ve sworn he heard you mumble “yes, si” around him at the order (it very well could’ve been “yes, sir” he was undecided)
when he didn’t think his evening could possibly get better, johnny felt a moan leave your chest and absolutely choke him up. his eyes flew open and he was met with a sight.
your eyes, squeezed shut and spit fucking flying out the corners of your mouth. simon- L.T on his fucking knees with his mouth buried in your cunt.
he thought he might die.
all the blood that wasn’t currently keeping johnny hard went straight to that spot and soon his head was spinning, resorting to closing his own eyes so he’d be able to make it through the night.
simon ate your pussy like a man possessed, two hands spreading your cheeks and tongue forcing its way into your entrance. pulling back only to spit on your clit before he dove back in.
giving it enough time and focusing on the sweet motions of your mouth, johnny figured it safe to reopen his eyes and take a another glimpse.
fucking silly move.
knelt before him was his L.T handling the biggest cock johnny thinks he’s ever seen this side of the internet, and he’s bullying it inside of your tight cunt.
johnny swears he didn’t mean to moan, it just slipped out the minute simon started to speak.
“hold tight, johnny- this one’s about to sing”
#im actually lightheaded i need them both at once right now#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley blurb#simon ghost riley blurb#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley drabble#johnny mactavish smut#johnny soap mactavish smut#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish drabble#johnny soap mactavish drabble#johnny mactavish blurb#johnny soap mactavish blurb#simon riley x reader x johnny mactavish#simon riley x reader x johnny mactavish smut#ghost x reader x soap#ghoap x reader#ghoap x reader smut
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shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader
song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.
author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott.
Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.
You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.
“Where the hell is he?”
He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”
“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”
The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”
The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.
“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”
“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”
Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”
Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.
You were going to kill him.
“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.
“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”
Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”
Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”
“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”
“Just hear him out, okay?”
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”
“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”
“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”
“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”
You huffed. “That makes two of us.”
The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.
“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”
“For what?”
“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”
“He deserved it.”
“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”
Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”
“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”
His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”
“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”
Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”
You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”
When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.
“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”
The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.
“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”
You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.
“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”
Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.
“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”
“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”
“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”
You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.
“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”
The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.
For crying in front of your worst enemy.
The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.
“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”
Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”
You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”
He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.
“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”
You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”
Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”
Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”
The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.
“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”
Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”
The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.
“Because you never told me, you idiot!”
“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”
You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.
“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”
Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.
“Because at least you were thinking of me.”
You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.
Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”
He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.
“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.
“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”
“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”
“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”
Because at least you were thinking of me.
It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”
Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”
You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.
So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.
“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”
You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.
“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”
Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.
“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”
He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.
Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.
If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.
It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.
Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.
You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.
“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”
Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.
Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.
He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.
“Need some help, love?”
You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.
Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.
Then he fucking moaned.
It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.
“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”
“What is it, Theo?”
“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”
“What are you saying, Theo?”
“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”
You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”
“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”
“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”
He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.
You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.
“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”
He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”
You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”
“Everything about you turns me on.”
“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”
“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”
You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.
“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”
“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”
“I bet you are, darling.”
You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”
He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”
Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.
On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”
“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”
“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”
Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”
“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”
He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”
You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”
“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”
“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”
“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”
“Yes ma'am.”
taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468
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#double feature cause i have no self control baby#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theo nott smut#theo nott x you#theo nott imagine#theodore nott x you#theo nott fluff#theo nott fic#theodore nott fic#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n
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𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 '𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 ✶.°
miya atsumu x f!reader
you get to know osamu and suna more at atsumu's first game of the season. meanwhile, atsumu subjects you to a very public display of affection.
part nine of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.
"Hi! Are you Suna?"
The young man standing in the middle of the busy courtyard glanced up at you from his phone, his hazel eyes seemingly unaffected by the thousands of rowdy college students, families, and local volleyball fans buzzing around you.
"You’re a good guesser," he said by way of greeting, pocketing his phone and extending his hand out for a shake. His gaze flicked down to your outfit as he asked, "You're Y/N, I'm assuming?"
"How could you tell?" you drawled, gesturing to Atsumu's oversized jersey currently swallowing you whole. You had tried pairing it with your favorite denim shorts and a belt, but it didn't excuse the fact that it was three sizes too large on you.
He huffed. "Did Atsumu put you up to this?"
"He said it was important to wear school colors, which, to be fair, I don't really own," you explained matter-of-factly. It didn't stop you from rolling your eyes. "But if you ask me, I think he just likes the idea of a girl wearing his jersey."
"That sounds more like it," Suna agreed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. "How are you liking it, living with a Miya?"
You sucked in a sharp breath and readjusted the strap of your book bag. "Well, my living room floor is covered in gym socks, and all my leftovers magically disappear, but other than that, I can't complain."
"Ha." Something like amusement flashed across his hazel eyes as he said, "Atsumu was right — you really are funny."
Before you could open your mouth to respond, a light hand brushed against your shoulder.
"Sorry I'm late," Osamu said, still in his Onigiri Miya hat and shirt. He extended his arm out to give you a half-hug. "There was a huge line over at the restaurant. Y/N, I see you've met my roommate Suna already."
"Sure did," you said, returning the hug with a warm smile. He smelled faintly of rice and umami sauce. "We were just talking about how lovely it is living with a Miya twin."
"Lovely, huh? I'm sure our ma would beg to differ, but I'm flattered," he said with a laugh. He gestured to the entrance of your university's multi-million-dollar events center and asked, "Shall we?"
The three of you wove in and out of the crowd, chatting animatedly amongst yourselves as you went through security, scanned your tickets, and entered the venue. You learned that Suna double-majored in psychology and sociology at the college across town and competed for a regional men's volleyball team in his free time. You also learned that he had played with the twins all three years of high school.
"Really?" you asked, your eyes wide as you navigated the ground floor of the arena. "You must be really used to them bickering, then."
"Something like that," he said, scrolling through his Google Photos until he landed on a snapshot from nearly six years ago. Osamu had Atsumu pinned to the ground, their teenaged faces contorted in anger as they brawled on the floor of the Inarizaki gymnasium.
"Oh my god," you laughed, staring at the blurry photo in amazement. "Isn't this the fight that got them both suspended?"
"Don't remind me," Osamu groaned.
Your eyes gleamed in amusement as you said, "You both look so young in this photo. Like two baby goats going head-to-head."
"Trust me, with the way Atsumu was actin' that day, you'd've thought he was a feral hyena," his brother murmured. "How was he this mornin'? Nervous at all?"
"A little bit, though he wouldn't admit it," you said, recalling how he'd acted before leaving the apartment earlier that day. He'd downed the last of his energy drink and slung his gym bag over a shoulder, the music in his AirPods loud enough for you to hear.
"Ya got everything ya need?" he'd asked you skittishly, shoving each of his feet into his Asics. "Yer ticket, Osamu and Suna's numbers?"
"Yes! We promised to meet outside of the arena at five-thirty," you said, handing him his water bottle. "It's me who should be asking you that, though. You doing okay?"
"Oh, yeah. This ain't my first rodeo," he reassured you, though his brown eyes conveyed something heavier. More solemn. "Besides, I'm feelin' much better after last night."
"That's good," you said, smiling softly. You could tell by the tension in his shoulders and jaw that he still had a lot on his mind, though.
Atsumu hit the pause button on his EDM track and asked, "Any last words of encouragement?"
You hummed to yourself, scouring your brain for the most perfect, proverbial thing to say. After a moment, you placed your hands on his shoulders, looked him dead in the eye, and said, "Don't fuck this up."
Atsumu nearly choked on his laughter. Your eyes glinted at the way his shoulders loosened up ever-so-slightly.
"I'm just kidding," you said warmly. "Give 'em hell, Atsumu."
He didn't know what it was — the use of his given name, or the pure conviction in which you'd said it — but he felt your words strike against his heart like a match. He grabbed your hand and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of your palm.
"I will," he murmured into your soft skin.
Your cheeks now burned at the memory — the way his lips had grazed your palm like it was the most natural thing in the world. You chalked it up to his affectionate, overtly flirtatious personality, unwilling to entertain the idea that it might have meant anything more.
But as you replayed the moment over and over again, you couldn't help but wish that it had.
"You guys go ahead!" you told Osamu and Suna when you reached your seating portal. "I'ma grab a drink before I head in. Do either of you want anything?"
"A beer would be nice," Osamu suggested.
Suna nodded in agreement. "Thanks, Y/N. Let us know how much we owe you.”
"Oh, don't worry about it! This one's on me," you said with a wave of your hand, jogging toward the concessions stand before either of them could argue. "I'll meet you in there!"
The smell of popcorn and nachos flooded your senses as you waited in line, the sheer energy of the arena potent enough to make your bones vibrate. A small part of you wondered what Atsumu was feeling right this very moment. Was he intimidated at all by this enormous stadium, the thousands of people that had shown up to watch him play? Or did he thrive off of their attention? Their excitement — their praise?
It's my first game since my coach kicked me off the team for a month, he'd told you last night, the warm light of your bedside lamp curving gently over his strained expression. So there's a lot at stake.
He'd been through a lot this past year, you'd realized — a break-up, a forced hiatus from volleyball. An onslaught of self-doubts he'd never fully admitted to but wore on his sleeve nonetheless. You hoped he wasn't thinking too deeply about all of that now. Even if he was, you silently prayed he wasn't burdened by it.
"Excuse me," you said once you'd reached the front row of the stadium, balancing three open cans of Asahi in your arms. You gestured over to where Osamu and Suna were sitting. "I think my seat is right over there."
The two young women in the seats next to yours shot you the dirtiest looks as they stood from their folding seats to let you in. Taken aback by their cold reactions, you awkwardly shuffled past them and plopped into the seat between Osamu and Suna.
"Is it just me, or are the girls sitting beside us kinda rude?" you asked under your breath as they relieved you of their drinks.
"That's not even the worst of 'em," Osamu said. "One time, a whole swarm of 'em came into the restaurant just to ask me where Atsumu lived. While askin' for my number."
"No," you gasped.
"The ones who pay premium to sit in the front row of games are especially bad," Suna added, taking a swig of his beer.
"What if they find where we live?" you asked, watching out the corner of your eye as the two women posed for a selfie in their matching game-day outfits. "I can't defend myself against a group of raging fans!"
"Maybe ya can hit 'em over the head with all those big novels ya read," Osamu chuckled.
"Seriously, who brings The Picture of Dorian Gray to a volleyball game?" Suna asked, peeking into your open book bag.
"I don't know!" you said, shooing him away like a gnat. "Aren't there half-times? Time-outs? I can sneak a chapter in here and there."
"Dear lord." Suna shook his head in amusement.
"Yer just as brainy as Tsumu says ya are," Osamu laughed.
For the second time that evening, you were stunned by the thought of Atsumu talking about you when you weren't around. What other kinds of things did he say about you? How else had he described you to the people he grew up with?
Before you could further dwell on those questions, the lights to the stadium dimmed, sending the crowd into complete hysterics as the announcer welcomed everyone to the first home game of the season. You watched in awe as a professionally-shot video of the men's volleyball team flashed across the jumbotron to the beat of a popular rap song, the series of graphics, b-roll, and spike shots sending an unexpected chill down your spine.
"Now announcing your starting lineup!" the announcer boomed once the video had concluded. "Number one, Aran Ojiro..."
"We went to high school with him, too," Suna filled you in as the team's captain jogged onto the court. "Super sweet guy."
"Number two, Sakusa Kiyoomi..."
"Dear lord," your murmured under your breath. "Are all volleyball players this tall?"
Osamu snorted. "Don't ya live with one?"
"Yeah, but I didn't think they all came like that — "
"Number five, Miya Atsumu!"
The retort died on your lips as the one person you came here to see emerged from the shadows of the stadium tunnel. The crowd erupted as he tilted his face towards the spotlight.
For a brief second, your breath caught in your throat.
He looked good in a jersey. Really good.
You were suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that everyone in here probably thought so, too.
The next several minutes droned on as the rest of the players were introduced, national anthems were sung, and the coin toss determined which team would serve first. All the while, you couldn't stop watching him — the way his bleached hair had been pushed back into a quiff, the way his eyes stared down the opponent with a cold, calculated expression. It was fascinating to see him so focused, so different from his usual self.
As if he could feel your eyes on him, Atsumu pried his gaze from the other team, scanned the first few stands of the arena, and spotted you.
You swore something like relief flickered across his brown eyes.
From the court below, Atsumu felt like he was on the verge of cardiac arrest.
"You alright?" Aran had asked him in the tunnel before the player introductions, ever the observant team captain. His voice was strangely calm compared to the booming cheers of the audience just several feet away from them.
"Yeah! Peachy keen," Atsumu breathed, jumping on his feet a couple of times to get his blood circulating. It did nothing to rid himself of the nerves now prickling down his arms and into his hands. Is this what an anxiety attack felt like? Like his limbs were made of television static?
Beside him, Aran gave him a knowing, if not mildly exasperated look.
"You don't need to pretend around me, you know. Just because you never freaked out before games in high school doesn't mean you aren't allowed to now."
At that, Atsumu gave his teammate a surprised double-take. Aran merely smiled at him and clapped him on the back reassuringly.
"We never doubted you, you know," Aran reminded him. "Even while you were gone, we never did."
Atsumu's lips drew themselves into a thin line as he huffed, quietly, "Can't say the same for myself."
Aran's expression softened. "Well, that's what teammates are for, right? To have your back — even when you don't have your own?"
Before Atsumu could respond, Aran's name was called by the stadium announcer, sending him jogging out the tunnel to the sound of thunderous applause.
It was wholly unlike Atsumu to panic before a game. But then again, he wasn't the same player as he was last season. In fact, as he emerged from the tunnel two minutes later to the crowd's ear-splitting cheers, all he could think about was the shit that kept him up at night. The break-up. The move out. The month-long volleyball hiatus. The grief of it all clawed at him, threatened to swallow him whole. And he didn't know what to do about it.
Ears now ringing from the panic, Atsumu desperately searched the crowd for something — anything — to ground him.
That's when he saw you.
Smushed between his twin brother and childhood friend in a jersey three sizes too large. Looking at him like he was the only other person in the arena.
Smiling at him gently, as if to repeat the same words you'd told him earlier that day.
Give 'em hell, Atsumu.
Slowly, he felt his shoulders relax, his jaw unclench. The static subsided, if only for a moment.
The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. Meanwhile, the university band played a roaring anthem as he approached the baseline to serve. His teammates guarded the back of their heads as Atsumu seized the ball and steadied himself.
He willed himself to concentrate, to tap into the same strength he'd relied on countless of times before. He lifted his free hand and — like a conductor — silenced the band with a mere snap of his fist.
His heartbeat hammered in his ears. He took a deep breath.
Then, before he could fully process it, he launched himself forwards and served.
The ball sliced through the air and struck the back zone of the opposing side.
The arena came alive.
You blinked as the sounds of rambunctious applause filled your ears, the opposing team mirroring your stunned expression as they shook off Atsumu's service ace and reassumed their defensive stance. Meanwhile, the women beside you went completely ballistic.
"Nice serve!" they squealed in perfect unison. Suna winced at the timbre of their voices.
"Have ya ever seen Tsumu play before?" Osamu asked amidst all the chaos.
You shook your head, still trying to process what the hell you just saw. Osamu merely chuckled and folded his arms across his chest.
"Trust me — ya ain't seen nothin' yet."
And you hadn't. In fact, as the game carried on in full swing, you began to realize just how big a deal Miya Atsumu really was. You'd gotten glimpses of his notoriety here and there — had sensed it like a pulse buried just beneath his skin. But here, on this court, he was completely untethered. Confident. Alive.
You now understood the gravity of what this game meant to Atsumu — and how deeply it had hurt when it was taken away from him.
From that moment onward, you cheered as hard as you could.
Toward the end of the second set, the closer of the two women leaned over Suna and tapped you on the knee.
"Excuse me," she said, perfectly comfortable invading his personal space. She smacked her spearmint gum and asked, "Where did you get your jersey?"
"Uh," you laughed, your gaze bouncing from her insistent expression to Suna's flat one. You pointed at your roommate on the court and said, "I got it from him."
The woman's eyes traced the direction of your finger before eventually landing on Atsumu, who was currently in a time out huddle with his teammates. She barked out in laughter as if you'd just delivered the funniest joke she'd ever heard.
"Yeah, right," she drawled, returning to her friend without so much as another word. Your shoulders shook with laughter as she did so.
"Jesus. Tough crowd."
Beside you, Suna massaged the inner corners of his eyes and said, "Next time, we're sitting in the nosebleeds."
The referee blew his whistle, sending both teams back onto the court for perhaps the last time of the night. Atsumu's teammates had taken the first set and were now one point away from taking the second, the expressions on their faces hungry, restless. Determined to win.
Sakusa tossed the ball high and served, the opposing libero diving to receive it. You held your breath as the entire court burst into motion, eyes locked on Atsumu as he set each ball like a a sniper taking aim. Each move was calculated, sharp. Fueled by brute force. Your pulse spiked watching his prowess unfold.
The rally continued, each player growing weary, more erratic with their movements. But Atsumu never relented.
You knew he was crazy — you had no doubt about it. But as he sprinted cross-court to pull off the lowest set you'd ever seen, you were suddenly convinced he was clinically insane.
Engaging every muscle in his legs, Atsumu aligned the set perfectly and launched the ball across the court. It cut through the air, connected with Aran's open palm, and slammed into the back zone of the opposing side.
The whistle blew. The crowd erupted. Players on both sides collapsed in exhaustion.
Your team had won.
The next several seconds passed by in a blur. You, heart bursting with pride as you stood up in the front row of the arena and cheered. Osamu and Suna, smirking proudly as they followed suit.
And Atsumu, who — now sprinting toward you at full speed — hoisted himself over the court-side barrier to plant a sweaty kiss on your right cheek.
Your eyes widened as he landed back on his feet and beamed up at you, his smile bright enough to make your face grow hot in embarrassment. The entire row stood still as your brain blew a fuse.
Did he just...?
He winked at you, turned on his heel, and jogged back to shake the hands of the opposing team.
Meanwhile, the two women's jaws were practically on the floor.
Osamu and Suna burst out laughing.
"Excuse me, Miss Librarian," Atsumu teased as he approached you sitting at the pub bar after the game. "Can I buy ya a drink?"
You looked up from your copy of Dorian Gray, having snuck away from the post-game celebration on the outdoor patio to finish the last chapter of your assigned reading.
"Hey, you," you said with a smile, bookmarking your page and bringing Atsumu in for a bear hug. He had since changed out of his sweaty uniform and was now sporting a stylish button-up and jeans, his bangs still swept up and out of his face. It suited him, you thought as he slid into the seat next to yours. Brought out his eyes.
"Congratulations on your big win today," you said after he'd ordered you both drinks. "I didn't know you could move like that."
"Thank ya, thank ya. Did ya see that last set I did for Aran?"
"You mean the one where your ass nearly split out of your shorts?" you teased. "Hard to miss it. I saw it in-person, on the jumbotron, and all over my Twitter feed after the game."
"What can I say? I got an ass for ESPN," Atsumu said with a grin. You rolled your eyes, though a laugh tumbled out of you. His expression softened as he said, "Thanks for comin' to support me today. It means a lot."
"Of course," you said as the bartender brought you your drinks — a whisky sour for Atsumu, and a strawberry margarita for you. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
He sipped the foam off the top of his cocktail and asked, "Does this mean I get to go to one of yer dance showcases now?"
"Oh, I don't know about that," you guffawed. "Those aren't nearly as large of a production as a flashy volleyball game."
"Well, that doesn't matter. Invite me," Atsumu reassured you, something like admiration flashing across his brown eyes. "I wanna be there for ya, too."
You were grateful for the dim lights in the pub bar as you blushed for what felt like the millionth time that day.
"Okay," you said, nodding. "I'll be sure to invite you to the next one."
The rowdy revelries of the men's volleyball team seeped in from the outside, filling the comfortable silence between you as you drank. The two shots of tequila from your margarita warmed your belly as you asked, "Were you nervous at all?"
"During the game? A lil' bit, yeah."
"Well, for what it's worth, it didn't show," you said, mimicking the way he'd snapped his fist closed at the beginning of each serve. Atsumu laughed at your dramatic impression of him, dimples deepening on either side of his lips.
"Trust me, I was," he promised. In fact, he didn't know what he would've done if he hadn't spotted you in the crowd. Hadn’t remembered all the ways you'd shown up for him in the past year. Ever since he’d moved in, you had cared for him so deeply — talking him down from his self-doubt, bringing him food when he least expected it. Making him laugh when no one else would.
He couldn't just let all that kindness go to waste.
So he decided he'd give it everything he got — and that the win didn't matter so long as he made you proud.
Of course, he couldn't just admit any of that to you. Instead, he took a long sip of his cocktail and said, "Course, there was no need to be nervous once I saw ya cheesin' at me from the stands."
"Yeah, right," you chuckled, licking the Tajín off the rim of your glass.
"I'm serious! Yer my good luck charm." Lowering his voice, he added, "Ya look real cute wearin' my jersey, too."
Amused, you said, "Well, your diehard fans certainly didn't think so. They looked like they wanted to rip my head off the entire game."
Atsumu tsked in annoyance. "Are ya kiddin' me? Did they say anythin' mean to ya?"
"Trust me, it wasn't that big a deal. In fact, I think they bothered Suna more than they did me," you reassured him with a laugh. He gave you a distrustful glance in return.
"Well, still. I'm sorry. Anyone who isn't a fan of ya isn't a fan of me — and I mean that."
"Well, that's very noble of you," you drawled, finishing off the last of your drink as the door to the back patio swung open. "I'm just glad no one's staring daggers at me anymore."
"...I wouldn't relax so soon if I were you," Suna warned, coming up beside you with a beer glass in one hand and his phone in the other. He angled his screen so the two of you could see the video he'd pulled up on his Twitter feed.
Your expression slowly fell as a ten-second clip of Atsumu hoisting himself up to kiss you on the cheek looped over and over again — the number of likes and reposts ticking steadily upward with each passing second.
"What are y'all doin' in here?" Osamu asked, joining the three of you not a moment later. His eyes latched onto the video. "Oh, shit."
Mortified, you snatched the phone out of Suna's hands and scrolled down to the comments section. It didn't help the panic now rising in your chest.
Omg who is she??
I thought he had another girlfriend tho? Did I miss something?
I don't know who she is, but I'm jealous.
"Oh god," you breathed, your stomach dropping at that last comment. You stared at the three boys hovering around you and asked, "I'm gonna have to learn how to fight, aren't I?"
At that, Atsumu looked wholeheartedly confused. Meanwhile, Suna handed you your copy of Dorian Gray and said, "You may wanna use this, then."
Osamu laughed so hard he nearly cried.
@miyasmagnolias, 2025
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#hq fluff#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x y/n#hq x reader#miya twins#miya atsumu#atsumu miya#hq atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu x you#miya atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu x you#miya atsumu angst#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu fluff#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x female reader#atsumu fluff#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fic#haikyuu headcanons#anime
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Shy virgin reader starts off so innocent but ends up not after this feral man 👇

Abso-fucking-lutely! There is not a man more feral than Billy in my opinion. I also got a little carried away with this so I hope that's okay!
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) spanking
There's nothing but awkward tension between you and Billy as the two of you sit on the edge of his bed. His thumb is rubbing circles along your knee as he tries his best to comfort you. He's the kind who usually gets right to it and if the girl he's hooking up with protests to anything, he just kicks them out without a second thought. With you, though? You're different.
He's taken more virginities than he can count and he wasn't gentle nor did he ease them into it like he probably should have, but with you, he wants to be the sweet and gentle guy you believe him to be. And he hates that. He hates how you softened him as it's really ruined his reputation and now people are starting to think that he's approachable when he spent his entire life building up this wall that you were able to tear down in only a matter of weeks. Well, he should be mad, but he's not. He could never be mad at you.
You turn towards him, taking a deep breath before wrapping your arms around his neck. You're wearing that smile that never fails to make him melt and his heart is starting to feel like a blanket that's warm from the dryer. You brush some hair away from his face and lean in for a kiss. This is everything Billy is against. He hates kissing and foreplay. He likes to go hard and that it.
But your lips are always so warm, like two soft pillows. And they taste like that lip gloss he sees you putting on every time you get into his car. He's so into kissing you that he thinks he might actually let you make out before he gets to business.
"C'mere," he says against your lips, patting his lap and you're quick to obey, straddling his waist and he can't help but think about how pretty you look on top of him. Maybe after a few times, he'll actually let you top him, which you should consider a treat because Billy would normally rather drop dead than be a bottom.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He's already asked this question multiple times, but he just wants to be certain. Even though he's never seen it that way, he knows this is a big step for you, and for once, he doesn't think he's worthy.
"I'm sure," you respond as you press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet just like you. You kiss him again and his brain short circuits just like always. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as you deepen the kiss by slipping your tongue into his mouth.
You both moan at the sensation of your tongues swirling around each other and Billy gets a little adventurous as his hands slide up your shirt, his rough hands resting against your bare back. He's so not used to this, but he can't say he hates it. He actually likes taking his time to enjoy what he's doing instead of pushing you onto the bed and going hard until you come then kick you out as soon as your orgasm.
After you finish, he thinks he'll invite you to stay and pull you into his arms before the two of you fall asleep. He wants to wake up next to you and have you stay for breakfast where the two of you will make conversation over Susan's famous pancakes before he walks you to your car where you'll share a sweet car before he sees you off.
God, when did he turn into a fucking pussy and when did he start liking it? Before you came around, he made fun of guys who behaved the way he currently is. He's never been a relationship guy so why does he kind of want to be your boyfriend?
"Can I take this off?" He asks and you nod.
"Use your words, doll."
"Yes." He slips your shirt over your head and tosses it to the side as he takes in your lacy black bra. Oh, so you came prepared. "D-do you like it?" You ask, leaning back just a bit so he can see the full bra.
"Fuck," is all he's able to respond. "Beautiful, doll."
"Good," you smile. "Because I bought it for you." His eyes bug out at your confession and you're sure that this is the first time you've ever shocked Billy.
"You did not." No one's ever bought lingerie for him so he has to admit that it's thrown him off. But he's more than honored that you did so even though he doesn't think he deserves it.
"I did," you nod as you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, suddenly feeling nervous by your confession.
"Well, you look hot. But you know where this would look even better?"
"Where?" You ask even though you already know what he's going to say. His hands slide up to the clasp of the bra as he leans in, his lips right in front of your ear.
"The floor," he says, bringing his voice down just slightly, but it's enough to drive you crazy. He then nips your earlobe which causes you to gasp then pulls away as he unhooks your bra. He then pulls it away from your body, tossing it towards wherever your shirt landed.
So you won't feel alone, he takes off his own shirt, his abs on display that you can't take your eyes off of. You're both ogling each other and for whatever reason, you don't feel as shy as you thought you would have. You trust Billy and know that he'll treat you like you deserve.
"You're-fuck-you're gorgeous," he sighs as he stares at your tits before pulling you closer so that you're chest to chest.
"So are you." His cheeks burn at the compliment as you think it's cute that you're able to make him blush.
"Are you ready?" He asks as his mossy eyes bore into yours with that sweet look he never gives anyone else.
"Yes," you nod and Billy slowly turns you over, gently lying you onto the bed as if you're some fragile thing he's so scared of breaking. "Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?" You nod even though you're super eager to just get right to it.
He lowers himself down on top of you, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips move together and all Billy can think about is how he could just do this all night and be satisfied. His hands find yours and he intertwines your fingers as he kisses his way down to your neck.
He peppers the spot with kisses, slowly introducing his tongue, warming you up for the hickey he's going to give you. He's given you a few during make out sessions but never like this as this is already more intimate with the two of you being topless.
He then starts to suck and that's a feeling that you're still not quiet used to, but it just feels so good that you don't dare tell him to stop. You whine in response to the sensation and swear you feel Billy's dick twitch against you.
He's licking and sucking and you wonder how someone can be so talented with just their mouth. How he's able make you feel like mush with just his lips and tongue. But then he bites down and that undoes you. You moan loudly, feeling yourself progressively getting wetter between your legs with each bite.
His hands let go of yours and slip between your bodies before he starts to unbutton your jeans. He looks up at you as he slowly slides them down your body, looking for any signs of hesitance. Once they're off, he goes for your panties, and those are off a little quicker. They fly across the room and he gets himself undressed, his cock and his giant bush on full display.
It's big, of course it is. You've heard all of the girls he's slept with talk about it. You would just nod along and not quite believe them because you never actually thought it'd be inside you. But now that you're actually seeing it, you're positive that they weren't lying.
Billy grabs hold of your thighs and spreads them wide so he can get a good look at what he's working with. As soon as he gets a glimpse of your sopping wet pussy, he gets the urge to comment on it like he does to all of his hook ups, but he says nothing because he wants to be respectful.
He spreads them just a little wider as lines himself up with you, but he doesn't get inside just yet. He feels like he needs to be honest with you first.
"I-I just realized that I don't have any condoms," he says, an apologetic look on his face as he breaks the news to you. "I don't usually use them because I've got a big cock and they're-"
"Hey," you cut him as you sit up, taking his hands in yours. "It's okay. I'm on birth control and you can just pull out, right?"
"Right," he laughs, feeling silly for freaking out. You press a kiss to his knuckles before lying back, spreading your legs again. Billy grabs hold of your hips as he slides in slowly, wincing when you do because he can only imagine just how badly it hurts.
This is probably some of the worst pain you've ever been in, and he's only got the tip in, but god does it feel good. He starts off slow, thrusting in and out at a glacial and you're moaning at every push, un able to keep your responses to yourself.
You appreciate how gentle he's being with you, but you can't help but what more. You want the hot, rough sex you always hear the girls bragging about. You want him to fuck you so hard you're forced to stay in bed for a few days.
You buck your hips against, trying to make him get the hint and it seems to go right over his head to you have to resort to other measures. You grab hold of his hips and buck yours against them while using his to show him exactly you want.
"Are-are you sure?" He asks, wondering where his innocent girl went.
"Positive. Fuck me like an animal." Your eyes are growing dark and Billy can see that you actually mean it. You're not just saying it just because you know that's what he likes.
So his grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin as he goes a little harder, but not hard enough apparently because he feels a hard slap on his ass. His eyes snap up to you and you seem angry, still bucking your hips against his, still trying to show him what you want from him.
"Fine, you want animal, doll? I'll give you animal. But don't act like you didn't ask for it." He pounds into you and you gasp at the feeling as he slides even more of his cock inside you, going deeper with every thrust.
You're coming undone progressively by the second, your brain now complete mush as Billy continues to give you what you want. He's moving so fast now that all you can hear is the skin slapping against skin as the two of you switch off moaning.
Billy has to admit that this is the first time he's actually ever care about making a girl come and as you lie beneath him, moaning, and whining and bucking your hips against his, he can't help but feel a sense of pride at how good he's making you feel.
If he's being honest, he usually drowns out the sounds, so focused on how he's feeling and only zoning back in when he hears the big one so he knows when to pull out. Yours though, yours are hot and he's sure that they'll stick in his head even after tonight.
It's coming, he can feel it. After he started going hard, he knew you weren't going to last very long. You have lasted longer than he initially thought. But now you're slurring so he think it's almost time to call it quits.
"Come on, one more, alright? Gotta get you there, doll. I mean, looking at how good you're taking me." He gives a couple more thrusts and watches you orgasm beneath him, counting down the seconds until he can make you do it again because, fuck was that hot.
He then pulls out and instead of kicking you out, he loans you one of his shirt and the two of you get into his bed before he pulls you to his chest, lighting up a cigarette as his pretty girl sleeps.
#stranger things#billy hargrove#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove x virgin!reader
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˖ ݁˖ ❀⋆。˚ ─── 𝑫𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑼𝑛𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠ℎ
˚.❀𝑨𝐿𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑉𝐸𝐿𝑌ᵎᵎ getting hot and steamy with your boyfriend while he's wearing the outfits from his concept photo
˚.❀𝑮𝐸𝑁𝑅𝐸/𝐶𝑊 ─── nsfw (mdni), scenarios (jungwon + hyung line), blowjobs , fingering , riding , shoe humping(??), implied pet play ˚.❀𝑾𝑂𝑅𝐷 𝐶𝑂𝑈𝑁𝑇 ─── 1.1k
𝒄ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡ᵎᵎ (˶˃⤙˂˶)
˚.❀𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑤𝑜𝑛
His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth , his eyes closing as his head tilted back , trying his hardest not to let any noise slip out ── the others were still there after all. He should've known better than to bring you with him to the photoshoot for their concept photos knowing very well just how erotic the "Make" concept was. Well , at least he knows now that latex gloves , a black suit and an eyepatch make you absolutely feral. You didn't even give him a second to breathe when he was done with his shooting and ready to clock out , your hand dragging him away into an empty dressing room. "Fuck.. you really couldn't wait until we were home... keep going", he mumbled under his breath , his eyes glancing down ── even if he could only see through one , the eyepatch didn't hinder him from seeing the sinful view. Your lips stretched around the girth of his cock , drops of Saliva running down to your chin from how sloppy and eager you were sucking him off ── but his eyes narrowed when he saw the subtle movement of your arm between your thighs , hearing your pussy squelching every time you plunged your fingers knuckles deep inside. It made his cock twitch in your mouth , his clawed latex fingers tightening their grip on your hair and scratching your scalp. He was close , too fast for his own liking but he knew he had to be done quickly before one of his members or a staff member came in.
"I promise I'll take proper care of you once we're home.. now be a good girl and take every single drop I'll shoot down your throat"
˚.❀𝐻𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔
Of course he knew what he was doing , he had to bite back his smirk when he saw the way you rubbed your thighs together when he got his photos taken. That god damn slutty fit of his had your cunt clenching around nothing and getting flooded with slick , your eyes focused on his fingers as he pulled his white dress shirt further down to show of the SFX make up on his chest that said "Monster in me" ── what a fucking slut of a men he was. You didn't know if you should be mad or grateful for the outfit his stylists gave him ── either way , it had your pussy crying and wanting to get filled up. The collar around his neck wasn't helping at all , images popping up in your mind as you started to fantasize. He would look so pretty underneath you with his current outfit , the flushed makeup on his face just made you remember how his face always flushed when you'd ride his cock or overstimulate both yourself and him. Fuck , you needed to be fucked , now. "You're so eager...", his lips brushed against the side of your neck , his fingers digging into your hips ── he wanted to sound annoyed , even though he wasn't , but your pussy just felt so warm and wet around his cock , he couldn't act annoyed even if he really tried. "Don't act like you weren't eager yourself , you got hard as soon as you walked over to me", you mumbled under your breath , trying to keep your volume in check ── maybe fucking in a bathroom stall wasn't the best idea , it certainly wasn't romantic , but at least you've gotten your fill now.
˚.❀𝐽𝑎𝑦
"You sure are having your fun... can't this wait until we're home?", his words weren't as threatening as he wanted them to sound , his cock was betraying him with the way it started to chub up under his slacks. He was the next in line to get his photo's taken , the concept photo where he'd be tied up and he asked you to tie him up because he didn't want a staff member to do it ── what a bad idea that was. "Oh come on... you have 10 minutes left , one little blowjob won't hurt", you replied back with a small pout , your hands caressing from his chest down to his crotch , your hand squeezing the growing bulge before you rubbed your palm over it , a hushed hiss coming from him as his eyes closed upon the contact. "You better be quick", he mumbled to which you clicked your tongue , shaking your head a little ── an almost sadistic grin on your face as you pulled on the rope tied around him to pull his chest against yours. "Oh baby ... the roles are reversed now. You will listen to me now , I have the ropes in my hand", he should have known better than to ask you to tie him up , he knew that this was payback for the last couple days when he edged you too long for your liking , now it was his turn to be tortured. This was going to be a very very long 10 minutes for him.
˚.❀𝐽𝑎𝑘𝑒
He felt bad , but not as bad as he felt good ── why have the two of you never tried handcuffs before sooner? He came back home from his photo shoot with a little surprise , the handcuffs he had used as a prop for his concept photos ── he secretly took them with him without anyone knowing. He was beyond turned on , his cock was getting milked dry from your pussy and he was crying tears of joy ── well actually overstimulation but this was pure heaven for him. His teary eyes opened half way to look through his eyelashes , feeling himself getting hypnotized as he watched the way your tits were bouncing along with you. It didn't matter how much he was tugging at the handcuffs , they just wouldn't come off ── but he wasn't complaining , he wanted this , he wanted to be restrained. And next time it was going to be you , he wasn't going to sneakily return those babies.
˚.❀𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑛
He felt anxious , but the thrill only heightened his lust whenever he heard a noise outside of the dressing room , his fingers tightening around your hair strands. "Wear a pair of specs and you have your girl on her knees like a slut", he mumbled under his breath as his half lidded eyes looked down at you , his foot right between your thighs while he was busy fucking your face ── his cock stretching your throat every time he pressed your nose against his abdomen. He clicked his tongue when he felt and saw the way you were humping his leather shoe like a dog in heat , but the sight was so fucking hot to him. "Such a needy little slut... so fucking dirty , look at you humping my shoe like a fucking bitch in heat. Don't get my shoe dirty with your arousal , if you do , you'll lick it it clean with your tongue like a good little pup..", his voice was low and gruff as he said that , the way his voice sounded only made you whimper in response while your eyes shut tightly.
"Don't you dare cum ... I won't fuck you tonight if you do"
#❀ ˙ .𝑒nhypen 𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard headcanons#enha smut#enha x reader#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enhypen heeseung x reader#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay smut#enhypen jake smut#enhypen jake x reader#enhypen sunghoon smut#enhypen sunghoon x reader#enhypen jungwon x reader#enhypen jungwon smut#lee heesung x reader#lee heesung smut#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong smut#park jay smut#park jay x reader#sim jaeyun x reader
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ride | bang chan
pairing: bang chan x afab!reader
synopsis: you’re ovulating and want to ride chan.
genre: straight smut homie
word count: 3.2k
warnings: [MDNI!] explicit sexual content, softdom!bangchan, pet names (baby, sweet girl, angel), mating press (for like 2 secs, no intercourse), oral (f rec.), piv sex, unprotected sex (don’t try this at home!), allusions to STI testing and birth control, creampie, the slightest amount of breeding kink + overstimulation in the end, chan wants to play, he’s so in love, ugh he’s such a sweetie, a feral sweetie
reader notes: written with afab reader in mind. reader has breasts and a vagina (more like wap). all characters are consenting and over 18 yo.
۶ৎ 𝑙𝑒𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒 ࿐ wrote this bc i’m also ovulating and want to ride chan.
“Already so hot for me, hm?”
Yes. You were. And you were nearly bare beneath Chan’s heavy gaze if not for your cute, little panties, the crotch soaked through, practically translucent, enough to wet the touch of whatever—whoever—dared to feather over the fabric adorning your sacred, seeping hole.
Chan has you spread before him on his sheets at the edge of his bed, one leg stretched out to rest delicately on his naked shoulder, the other pushed to your chest, your foot dangling over his hand pressing into the plush back of your thigh.
You were a dream come to life below him, the wettest dream composed only for the eyes of a man like him, too far past the pathetic cognitive confines of a teenage dirtbag. You were a fallen angel on his sheets, and all Chan could do was relish in how gone you were, how hot and wet and desperate you were, just for him.
He licks his bottom lip and lets his heavy, barely open eyes wash down your body, drinking in the mess he’d made of you—he hadn’t even touched you yet.
You’re basked atop the luscious pool of sheets, eyes dark and chasmic, begging into his dark chocolate orbs for his hands, mouth, and cock to ravish you. Your cheeks are flushed, hot with need, and your lips swell, pink and wet from what felt like centuries of making out before Chan had you in your current state. Your mouth parts to let the string of quick, deep breaths wisp out of your thoracic limits, heightened from the soft arch of your back. Your breasts heave with respiration, nipples pebbled against the comfortable coolness of the room, pleading to be pinched and sucked.
Chan’s eyes wander down to the cloth between your legs, and the sight wreaks him. Your panties are ruined, lucid with slick that seems to gush out of you sans constraint, the never-ending patch diffusing throughout the cotton.
God, Chan loved you like this, loved your desperation and obedience and wetness for him the few days a month you were in heat. It gave him a chance to really provide for you, give you everything and anything you needed to cool you off until you were whining to go again. Every month, he was ready, aching to make his baby feel so, so good.
He feels searing blood pump into his cock, hardening his rod against the already taut fabric of his sweatpants. He slowly peers back into your eyes and catches a familiar glint that tells him you can’t wait any longer. There’s a mellow smirk accompanying his heavy-lidded eyes, a simple mask to help him ignore how all he wants to do is fall to his knees and pout his lips over your clit for the next hour.
“This is okay?” He’d already asked more than once, but it was never enough for Chan.
You writhe beneath him and softly moan. “Yes, Chan.”
The fingers dancing over your ankle leisurely feather down your leg. “What do you need, baby?”
Your hips writhe, and you whine. “Need you inside, Chan, please.”
He hums, the pads of his fingers now running across the back of your thigh, leg still stretched out near his head.
He’ll give it to you, and gosh did he want to do you in good. He wanted you gushing under him, mumbling incoherently from the luxurious pressure of his thrusts, but Chan also wanted to play, just for a little. He wanted to see how far he could string out his sweet girl’s desperation until she was begging for exactly what she needed.
He pushes down on your leg, rendering it a matching pair with its twin, and leans into you. His hands cage you under him near your waist, the heat of your supple skin fogging over his fingers. The back of your legs rest against his hard, broad body, sculpting you into a mating press.
Chan nuzzles his nose against yours. Both your eyes have succumbed to the weight they bear, whispering to a close before your lips mold into the other.
He kisses you softly, granting you just enough pressure to push you into overdrive. Your hands fumble up his shoulders, finding purchase in his hair, gripping tight. You tug him closer, greedier. A groan, low and guttural, vibrates out of him and trembles down to your core.
His hot mouth sucks up your bottom lip, lets it swell in his mouth, coats it with his spit. It rolls back out when he feels your heat squirm against the curve of his cock.
Chan pulls himself from the warmth of your face. He wants to watch your brows scrunch, watch your wet lips pout when he grinds the hard curve of his length into your clothed cunt.
It’s too much and not enough, like the first breath of air when you resurface from underwater. He’s so hard, and his cock rubs just right, deliciously over your clit. You press your head into the mattress, your hands clutch at his hair as you try to meet the agonizing motion of his hips. You pout and mewl up at him.
He smiles, wicked and smug. Then kisses you, slow and sweet.
Chan’s plush lips flutter down your jaw and neck, ghosting over your breast before he sucks your hardened nipple into his blazing mouth. You moan, bucking up against the ghost of his now absent hips.
His tongue flattens over your peak, covering it with a glistening sheen. He sucks and circles and flicks before he sucks hard off of you with a pop, wasting no time fastening his lips back to your skin to kiss down to the only clothed part of your body.
Chan wants to play, wants to take his time pushing you to a release, but he feels a ticking in the pit of his own abdomen, and he knows he won’t last much longer without giving you exactly what you needed, so he slings his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and tugs.
The lacey band slides past your hips, past the level of your cunt when the crotch latches off with a resisting damp stick. A thin string of your slick stretches out to the wet splotch on your panties, drooping down onto the sheets when the fabric raises too far up your thighs and clears your feet.
Chan’s hand smooths your thigh onto his shoulder, while the other works near the base of the bed to bunch your panties into a ball of fabric that is soon to never return to your underwear drawer.
You're a sight for the books, art fit for museums beyond human capability. Now that you were completely bare beneath his gaze, slick, glistening proof of your arousal drooling onto the plush cotton towel he’d (thankfully) laid out just for you, Chan thinks—no, he knows—he’ll have to ravish you. And he’ll do it by fucking all of the pretty thoughts he has about you straight into your core.
Your seeping pussy coaxes him in, the sight calling his lips to gently kiss over your thigh, each press a brand of affection seared into your flesh. He’s already half-drunk on the scent of you.
And God, the scent. It’s divine. Heady and thick and achingly familiar. It wraps around him, makes his head light, his cock throb against the too taut seam of his pants. His tongue darts out to taste the air, to imagine what you’d feel like on it, and the moment his mouth finally hovers over your heat, he has to exhale a slow, ragged breath through his nose to keep from burying his face in you like a starved man.
“Look at this mess, baby,” he mumbles, heavy eyes flickering up to catch yours through the haze. “Gonna suck it all out of you, yeah?”
And then, he licks.
The flat of his tongue starts from your dripping entrance and slides up to your clit in one long, sinful drag. You jolt with a sharp inhale, thighs twitching on his shoulders as your head falls back with a low moan. He hums against you, savouring every inch of the taste, the warmth, the overwhelming slick. His nose nudges your nub, lips parting to suck your clit into his mouth like it’s the sweetest fruit.
Your hands are threading into his hair, tugging without thought. Chan groans deep into you, the vibration making your spine curve off the bed.
He eats you like it’s the only thing that matters. His tongue flicks and flattens and circles and dips, teasing your entrance just enough to taste the flood of slick before returning to your swollen, needy clit. His soft lips wrap around it, suctioning onto you so hard, pulling cries and whimpers from your throat like he’s conducting you with every movement of his mouth. Your angel voice serenades him with a melodic blend of pleas and his name.
“Mmm, please, Chan—please please please.”
He moans at your voice, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he lets himself sink into the rhythm. Suck, flick, lap. Over and over. Every sound you make is a reward, every roll of your hips a command he obeys. And when your thighs start to clamp around his head, twitching, your hips trying to rock into his face, he succumbs to your needs.
He wants you to ride his mouth. Wants to feel you fall apart against his tongue.
His hands slide under your ass, tilting your hips up, and he dives in deeper. His tongue thrusts into your soaked hole, curling, then returns to your clit. His spit mixes with your slick, a wet, messy potion painted across his chin and lips.
Your sound is broken, wreaked, gasping out his name, your moans pleading for a release. Delinquent hips roll into him, chasing after a high that was just one step out of your reach.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow. Because he knows he has you right where he wants you. So, he just groans low and needy into your cunt and tightens his grip as you finally writhe into bliss.
Your thighs lock around his head, your entire body bowing into the orgasm that crashes through you in high tides. You’re clenching, fluttering wildly as your slick gushes against his tongue, and Chan drinks it down, groaning like he’s in heaven.
He is in heaven.
He holds you there through every aftershock, licking you gently now, soft and slow, kissing your clit with the kind of affection that makes your thighs quiver and your core clench again, helplessly sensitive.
When he finally pulls back, your slick adorns the lower half of his face, glistening in the low light. He kisses your inner thigh one more time, eyes still heavy with his own desperation.
“Did so well, angel, so perfect,” he murmurs, voice thick and ruined.
And you?
You're his masterpiece of a mess, panting like you just surfaced from the deep.
Eyes dark and dazed, Chan hovers above your body. He’s not sure if he should crawl away or curl into you.
But you make the decision for him, because even through the waves of release, the high hadn’t ebbed. Not fully. Not with the excruciating stretch of his sweatpants still tented between your legs. Not with the weight of his adoration still anchoring you both to the bed.
You find the edges of his jaw with your fingertips, still quivering from how he wrecked you, and Chan leans into your touch, a planet to the sun.
“I want to ride you,” you whisper.
It’s not a question. It’s not even a request. It’s a tethered need, soft but unrelenting, looped around both your hearts and tugged tight.
Chan’s breath halts.
He swears something stutters in his chest. His eyes flutter open, and for a second, he’s a man stripped of every coherent thought. Just nerves lit like fire and a heartbeat so loud it rattles in his ears.
“You…” he starts, then trails off, his voice wrecked and low. His throat bobs. “You wanna be on top?”
You nod slowly, brows knit like this is something fragile. Sacred.
It is.
Because it’s not just about wanting control—it’s about trust. And Chan has never felt so honored to give and receive it.
He presses a kiss to your wrist. Then your palm. Then the center of your chest, where your heart still dances from the work of his mouth.
“Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay, baby. Take me.”
He shifts under you, careful, soft, pulls off his sweatpants and boxers in one go, leaving his thick, aching length pulsing and flushed and glistening against the lower valley of his stomach.
You crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, and Chan’s hands instinctively settle on your hips. His head falls back against the pillow, the cords of his neck tight with restraint. He looks at you, his angel made of moonlight and the answer to every unnamed prayer he’s ever breathed through grit teeth in lonely hours.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he swoons, a mellow confession.
Your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the way his abs twitch under your touch. His cock jumps when you slide your slick folds along the base of him, and Chan swears under his breath, knuckles blanching as he grips your hips tighter.
The glide is slow, indulgent. It was your way of savoring him. You rub against him, your clit catching the ridge of his tip each time you rock forward, and Chan’s breath punches out of him in stuttered gasps. His eyes never leave your face—kiss-swollen lips, dreamy dropping eyes—even as his hips buck helplessly under you.
“Fuck,” he groans, eyes fluttering. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
With tests negative and your eggs surrendered to the control of coloured pills, you brace your hands on his chest, and he watches you—every breath, every flicker of pleasure across your face—as if it’s the most exquisite art.
And when you finally sink down, slowly, divinely, the bare heat of you enveloping him inch by tremoring inch, Chan moans so deeply it sounds torn from his soul.
His eyes sew shut. His hands grip your thighs like he’s afraid he’ll float off the earth if he lets go.
He doesn’t speak at first. Just breathes. Shudders.
Then, softly, “Fuck—please.”
You move, slow at first, and Chan meets each motion with a gentle rock of his hips.
It’s consuming, the way your warm, gummy walls slide against his hardened rod, the way he disappears into you with each grind of your hips. The remaining potion of your arousal and his spit gush over his bare tip and dribbles down his length.
And your face—fuck, it was going to ravish him, ruin him far past the limits of your cunt. Pretty pout merged into an oh, eyes barely open before they shut tight. You were godly.
You ride him like you’re claiming him, and Chan surrenders to you.
His hands roam your body, thumb brushing over the curve of your breast, then gripping your waist. His gaze stays locked to your being and nothing but, drinking in the little gasps you spill, the arch of your back when you angle just right, the way your walls flutter around him when he groans your name.
There’s nothing more beautiful than this, than you above him, owning him, loving him, making him unravel piece by piece.
The way you move on him is poetry turned to flesh.
Each roll of your hips is a verse, each sigh a stanza, and Chan is completely spellbound, caught in the cadence of your body, unwinding the syllables of your name under his breath.
He’s close.
Gosh, he’s been close since the second you sank onto him, but now, the pressure wraths tight and hot at the base of his spine, every nerve lit like a fuse, and Chan knows he doesn’t have much longer until he’s helplessly falling apart for you.
So, he brings a thumb to your nub and presses a slow circle into it.
You mewl and clench around him, soft and fluttering, and his hips jerk. His head presses back against the pillow with a low, desperate groan.
“Baby,” he pants, voice rough, thumb still working into you, “I’m not gonna last—”
“I want it,” you whisper, almost boarding on a breathless mewl. “Want you to come inside.”
And it’s over.
Chan’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, his whole body tightening beneath yours. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring himself to the moment, his thumb coaxing you into your second orgasm until you're twitching above him, eyes shut tight, mumbling his name in a high sob.
And then, he’s spilling into you, hot and thick and endless.
His mind whites out. His breath stutters. He feels like he’s burning and being saved all at once.
You don’t stop, not yet.
You keep moving, riding him through every wave of it, milking him with slow, deep grinds that draw out his pleasure until it teeters on overwhelming.
“Fuck,” he chokes out, his voice wreaked, “just like that—oh god, angel, I’m yours—”
His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest as you finally still. He’s still twitching inside you, still pulsing weakly, his cum leaking out in slow, sticky drips that smear where your bodies press together.
It’s messy. Intimate. Utterly undone.
And Chan has never loved anything more.
His lips find your shoulder, your neck, your temple. Kisses soft as the air after a storm, trying to say everything his tongue is too ruined to form.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, dizzy with adoration.
You hum, cheek nuzzled into his hair, and Chan closes his eyes, his whole body still twiching, but grounded now by the feel of your heartbeat against his.
“I mean it,” he whispers, thumbing lazy circles into your spine. “You’re everything.”
When you finally shift off him, Chan’s hands follow you instinctively, always touching, always holding. He props himself up on his elbows, watching with simmering greed as his cum slowly drips from between your thighs, glossy and slow.
He almost can’t stop himself when two of his fingers scrape his hot seed back up, pressing the coated pads against the opening of your hole. You squirm with a soft mewl.
“It’s spilling out of you,” he breathes, his voice is threaded with awe. “Wanna stuff it back in you, baby. Can I?”
You nod, eyes hooded, pout parted with wisping breaths.
“Words, angel.” His own are broken, eyes so soft, so full of all the love and admiration known to humankind.
“Yes,” you breathe.
And that’s all Chan needed to hear before he’s gently laying your precious body against the sheets and leisurely replacing his fingers with himself, pushing into you softly, grazing your walls slowly, fucking his cum back to your core with love for your surging through his vessels and bones and nerves.
Both your bodies twitch, overstimulated, your eyes glassed over with threatening tears pooling at each of your squinting corners.
Yet, Chan wouldn't have wanted it any other way, simply because it was with you.
৬ৎ 𝑙𝑒𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝘰𝑠𝘵𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒 ࿐ whoever you are reading this, you are beautiful.
© chanifesto ── may 2025
#ᯓ✮ lee writes.ᐟ#need him need him need him#skz#skz smut#skz x reader#skz imagines#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#bang chan#bangchan#christopher bang#bang chan smut#bangchan smut#bang chan skz#bang chan scenarios#bang chan stray kids#bangchan stray kids#bangchan skz#bangchan scenario#bangchan x reader#bang chan x reader#bang chan imagines#imagine#one shot#x reader#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#skz bang chan
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alpha!kyle has been a current thought in my head, so i wrote about him coming back home after a long mission.
it's his fourth day home since his last mission ended.
kyle has you tucked close to him, under the covers inside the big nest you made for yourselves. he still smells a bit like tiredness, the exhaustion from the battlefield clinging to his muscles but it's almost imperceptible now.
your sweet, honey-like scent mingles with his and into the fabric enveloping you. there's a low, constant purr rumbling in your chest, scratching an itch on kyle’s mind that he waited so long to get rid of.
he's home. safe and sound with his omega so close to him, happy and purring at his presence. the notion makes his own chest vibrate with a purr as an answer, the growl of it making clear how his alpha scrapes the edges of his consciousness.
it's probably early in the morning, kyle doesn't look for his watch nor his phone, instead just basking in the dim, morning light seeping through the window – which is opened only a bit, the cold wind from outside making the fabric of the curtain swing ever so slightly.
despite the breeze, he's warm where he lays with you. the heavy weight of faux fur fabric working well on keeping your naked bodies' warmth secured inside the blanket fort you call a nest. you've been naked ever since he came home – his clothes smelling like blood and gunpowder, alpha stressed and tired, growling grumpily at the thought of fabrics keeping your skins from touching each other.
you haven't fucked nor have you indulged in any type of sexual activity, it didn't felt quite right yet. instead he just stripped off his clothes, dragging you around the house so you both can, in this very order: get cleaned up in a quick shower, eat something light and settle on the big nest you have in the corner of the living room, napping on the cushions that cover the floor inside it.
he knows you're awake and you're aware he's too, but none of you say a word. it's peaceful like this. the calm, quiet atmosphere working the remaining of his stress away, giving you time to fully push away the sleepy haze that has been pulling at you, until you move from his arms to stare up at his beautiful face.
his eyes are closed, eyelids shut very lightly. his lips pressed to one another, but they part as soon as he takes in your shifting scent – which is reacting to his relaxed, laid back expression –, nose twitching to take it in better. he grumbles, one hand brushing down your side to hold your hip as the other runs its fingers to your hair.
his eyes are sharp and lidded when he opens them to stare at you, making a shiver run down your spine. you've never been so close to having him bared to his soul in front of you, alpha so present it makes his scent almost fresh out of the woods. it brings your omega from where she was resting far inside your mind, her claws scratching softly around your head, urging you to sleep so she can step in.
it's been like this for four days. it's always rough for him, coming down from mission-mode, but this time kyle's inner alpha seems ready to fight for control, begging for your omega to comfort him at all costs. you both allowed it to happen the first day – and the second –, having to hold back on it by the morning of the third day. you couldn’t risk going feral together, not without someone to watch over you two.
kyle seems to read your mind, your bond doing most of the talking as you bask in the silence, the room quiet except for the – now almost inaudible – purr coming from deep within your chests. his voice is low and hoarse when he speaks, a groan following as he cleans his throat and tries again.
"could ask john to come over, honey..." he mumbles on his thick accent, holding you while he watches your reaction. "he could watch us next time, mhm? he's a good alpha, he'd take care of us..."
"mhm..." your hum of agreement is barely an answer, the grunt coming from him making it clear that he wants you to elaborate. "if you trust him, than it's fine by me, love."
kyle hums then, pleased with your answer. his adorable omega, relying on him whilst taking care of his once exhausted body, helping him work through the tiredness and out of the alert mode he had to depend on so much over the last few weeks – giving him enough support so he could recover from weeks of soldier-like routine on a hostile environment in only a couple of days.
he truly does love you a lot and maybe it's time he shows it to you, rewarding you for been so good to him.
a/n: part of I'LL CALL THE MOON: COLLECTION (coming soon)
#call of duty#cod x reader#cod#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#cod omegaverse#bel's works
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