#how do i always take a backseat
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#unhappy#disappointed#generally sad#feeling a bit alone#i want to cry but stupid testosterone won't fucking let me#everything is wrong right now#i have nothing and am nothing#it's like that saying would ya miss me if i was gone#idk if these feelings are from my migraine meds but man it's kicking my ass tonight#vent#maybe i should go to sleep#tomorrow's a new day#i don't think this is a 911 moment yet#i just need to relax and idk remind myself the world isnt against me#but it's hard#when i miss out#i waste my time#i just hope#how do i always take a backseat#in everything#i can't even get a kob thatll pay me enough#so im just a big fucking burden and now THAT is making me cry#sorry internet strangers#bye#what am i even doing anymore
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Idk about other latines but lol just saw somebody be like "Everyone I've ever known that immigrated to the US was middle class and rich and that's why I dont take people in the diaspora into consideration". And I'm just like LOOOOOL ok....
#most of the people ive met who are first gen or immigrants themselves immigrated#because their life or their family's life was not sustainable to survival#like my moms family was literally impoverished#multiple of my central american friends moved here for similar reasons#its always the white argies and brazilians saying shit like this lol#like i get when people say we have to take a backseat in discussions of actually LIVING in the 3rd world#but its like also shit these constant generalizations are always made about how cushy we must have it when nah#if you look at a lot of our lives IN CONTEXT to living in the us we do not in fact have it cushy in american society#and that goes DOUBLY if youre afro latine but these same people love acting like they dont exist soo...
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i'll chime in a little on the whole. big vs small blog thing. i am a small blog. i don't have a super high follower count. i don't have a bunch of anons clamoring for more of my writing or people asking for my thoughts. honestly, most people, even in my extended "circle", don't know who i am. im not "popular" or "big" by any means, and i know my place.
BUT i know that even with my smaller platform i can still at the very least raise awareness for a cause that is important to me and should be important to everyone. if someone finds out about ficsforgaza through me, and through ficsforgaza finds another, "bigger" author they like better and decide to sponsor or request from them, i would still be ECSTATIC about it. because at the end of the day, the most important thing is happening: people are donating to palestinian families and helping save lives.
with respect to the ficsforgaza movement (and other similar fandom/online movements), it's important to remember the objective of the movement— raising money to help families in gaza. we as writers are not being directly donated to. we as writers are not the focus of the movement. the focus is, and always should be, aiding the palestinians. that is the point.
#thinkmin!#listen. and this is to my fellow ''small blogs''#i get it. i do. western fandom is an inherently self centered space. it's easy to see others being sponsored or requested and feel bitter#because at the end of the day it comes down to feeling ignored and useless. and that's never a good feeling.#genuinely tho. and i say this with all the love in my heart. sometimes we need to let our egos take the backseat#decenter ourselves. remember what the whole point of this is.#and if u STILL have a problem with the movement i will say like. it's okay to donate independently of it#it's okay to (and in fact please do) continue to spread awareness of fundraisers independent of this movement#ur allyship and activism do not have to involve this particular project if it makes u upset#that being said. i will forever and always support aleks and kae for organizing this#no matter how u try to spin it. i believe it's been a net positive#and that's all i have to say i think
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love my leather boots sooo much.. polishing them at weekends is my favourite chore by far I always look forward to getting to do it :-)
#just re-lacing them rn so theyre ready for work tomorrow theyre so shinyyy muah#when my next payday comes around im gonna get a second pair so im not putting as much strain on the leather by wearing them everyday#but i think im gonna go for a different colour to my standard black.... ik solovair do similar ones in burgundy or bottle green hmm#well i have a month to think abt it before i decide!#red is my go to accent colour but green would probably fit better with my work wardrobe... and i do wear work clothes 5/7 days a week#anyway.... i need to meditate and then sleep. i usually settle down for bed 9:30 but im a little wired cuz new med change#so ive been putting it off until i feel actually tired so i wont stress abt not being able to fall asleep and then make it worse#i will probably feel pretty tired at work tomorrow but thats okay i dont have anything taxing scheduled#feeling so much better now this weekend is behind me. ik next weekend will likely be difficult again but im more prepared for it#i need to book myself this trip as well before train tix get too expensive so i have smth to look forward to next month....#just debating whether i actually want to invite other ppl or not. itd be rly nice for everyone to come but with recent events i feel-#a little delicate abt social stuff and i dont want to stress myself out and get insecure bc its meant to be a treat for me#like if i invite other ppl itll become their trip and suddenly im in the backseat third wheeling them all#and ill wish i had uninvited myself so they would enjoy it more etc but the POINT is its smth i wanna do!!!! for me!!!#we'll see how this week goes. i dont rly feel ready rn to unmute their server yet tho bc ill just make myself upset abt next weekend#letting sleeping dogs lie for now... ill come back around eventually it always takes some time to recover from mood swings that intense#okay now goodnight! xoxoxoxooxo#.diaries
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core difference between nbc chas and comics chas for me essentially boils down to where they stand with john and how big a role the supernatural plays in their lives. i mean:
nbc chas: is currently seeing & supporting john at his lowest, is often playing the muscle against supernatural creatures & has to consider his own personal safety in every plan that john makes, has access to the behind-the-scenes of planning & knows how often john is just flying by the seat of his pants.
he has confidence in john's abilities but very little real trust or faith, and feels the need to temper the recklessness with reminders of his own mortality.
comics chas: sees john once in a blue moon or when being asked a favor, only really experiences john's lows after personal conflict with people (rather than after near-world-ending events), is actively prevented from being at the heart of most supernatural conflicts unless sucked in unintentionally, sees the end results of john's planning (where he succeeds) more than the process (where he sacrifices).
he does not have a fucking clue what it is that john actually does, exactly, but will rely on him for help without hesitation, follow him to the ends of the earth without question, and beat the brakes off anyone who tries to stop him with pleasure.
#OOC.#i SO wish we could have seen nbc chas's evolution as john got farther out from newcastle & more secure in his role#like i can't imagine him taking a backseat to the Rising Darkness Adventures but. would we have seen more organized crime shit?#more of the mob shit that hellblazer chas was always caught up in? bad bookies and gambling problems and shit luck?#hellblazer chas is a People Problems guy. he handles real life everyday threats. he beats the SHIT out of baddies#but idk if nbc chas would ever be Less of a Monsters Guy what with all his extra lives#plus! john has no choice but to be kinda open and honest about his feelings to nbc chas bc they're almost ALWAYS in a house together#hellblazer john is SKEDADDLING from comics chas when he feels less than confident in himself. he Hides that shit#comics chas rarely knows what the fuck is going on. he just knows 'if john says jump you do that shit'#of course later comics chas is more 'oh for FUCK'S sake i am SICK of jumping. HOW fucking high' HSDJKSD but he still does it#NBC CHAS HC. ( my turn to be the victim. )#COMIC CHAS HC. ( what chance have you got against a tie and a crest? )#Q.
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FANTASIZE❦
old!logan howlett x fem!reader
*mdni
cw: cursing, nsfw, age gap (reader is twenty-five)
wc: 1k+
a/n: i have no idea where this came from. i was supposed to be working on something completely different but apparently, this needed to be written first instead. yes it is inspired by the unreleased ariana grande song.
⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ���── ⊰
Logan couldn't read minds. He never longed for the ability or power; he was better off not knowing what others had going on in their heads. He only wanted to peek into someone's mind when he caught your twinkling eyes lingering in his direction. Luckily, he could still read your mind even without the mutation because your fantasies were written all over your face.
It was obvious to anyone caught in the same room as you and Logan, that there was tension. You burned holes all over his body with your intense gaze. If Logan was in the mood to entertain your little crush, he could compliment you in a way that was sure to make you blush.
"Good form today, kid."
"Lookin' pretty today, sweetheart."
"Lemme fix that lipstick, dollface." That one left you with an ache in between your thighs as his thumb brushed your lower lip. "Can't have you walkin' around here a mess, now can we?"
Logan wasn't sure if he would ever make it to heaven but seeing your lip tremble with need was close enough for him.
If he saw you in a dress with a pair of mary-jane's, he would try to catch a glimpse of your underwear in the reflection of your shoes. It didn't always work but it made him feel young again.
No one was brave enough to address it due to him being twice your age. Despite being twenty-five years old and already having graduated from the school, it was still considered taboo to some. If anyone asked Logan about it, he would brush it off as a schoolgirl crush that you would eventually grow out of.
It was truly harmless he thought. You got the attention you craved and Logan got to see a pretty young woman squirm in her seat because of him. It never went further than flirtatious comments and lingering stares.
❦
Today might be the worst day of your life. You and Logan were being sent out together on a mission to find a mutant that lived two hours away. It wasn't the mission that worried you; it was being stuck in a tiny car with only Logan for one hundred and twenty minutes.
"Why aren't 'cha talkin', dollface?" Logan asked, almost teasingly.
For almost twenty minutes, he was aware of your eyes watching his hand hold the wheel. Logan was also incredibly aware of the effect it had on you. A little broken sigh escapes you when his hand clenches tighter around the leather, making his veins pop even more.
"Too busy fantasizing 'bout me?"
No matter how much you tried to find someone your age to be with, your heart always went back to Logan. He treated you differently than anyone you've ever met. Sure, sometimes he made you feel like a kid but he also knew you could handle your own. Logan wouldn't let anyone underestimate you; that kept you crawling back to him.
"Maybe I am." You shrug, fed up with his games.
"Oh, yeah?" He says, taking a deep inhale of your sent. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, hm?"
You were used to Logan's overly confident personality that he tried to use to intimidate you; and make you stumble over your words. It wasn't gonna work this time. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him, but you needed him to admit it first.
"Us in the backseat of the car." You admit, biting the inside of your cheek nervous for his response.
"Really? And what are we doing back there?" He asked, cocking his head curiously as his eyes remained glued to the road.
"You're on top of me, makin' me feel good." Your words were coy but that was the point. Logan liked being the tease; having all the power.
"Keep talkin', dollface."
There it was. You had him right where you wanted him.
You pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking your head and telling him, "No, I shouldn't"
"Why not?"
"Because an old man like yourself can't keep up with me, right? At least that's what I heard you tell the Professor."
Logan couldn't believe you had heard their conversation earlier this week. The Professor was the only person who knew the truth of how Logan felt towards you. When Charles asked him what was stopping him from pursuing you, all Logan had to say was, "I'm too old for her; can't keep up with such a young thing like her".
Which was far from the truth.
"So obsessed with me that you're listenin' to my conversations now?" He growled, pulling the car over.
"Stop acting like you aren't obsessed with me too." You smile at him. "I know a few pairs of my underwear 'mysteriously' disappear from my hamper. I know that you can hear me through the walls late at night, panting your name."
With each sentence, you inch closer to him. Logan could only compare you to the snake in Eve's garden; encouraging him to give into his temptations.
"I also know that you want me." Your eyes were dark with desire, making his pants tighter. "So, if you can't get it up or claim that you don't want me then that's fine with-"
Logan fumed with irritation and lust. Not thinking twice before slamming your lips into yours. He tasted exactly like you imagine; tobacco and mint. You were addicted; no one could ever compare to him.
In a rush, his rough hands pulled you into his inviting lap before one cupped your jaw and his other made its way up your skirt, toying with your lacy underwear. He wasn't going to give it to you that easily.
"L-Logan, please," You moan against his mouth, trying to create some friction on his lap. "Need it."
God, he's waited a long time to hear that; to see you so desperate in his arms. When he pulled back to look at you, Logan couldn't be more pleased with the image in front of him. Your eyes shut tightly, face scrunched, trying to concentrate, and lips pouty with annoyance. Logan removes his hand under your skirt; causing the prettiest whine to escape you. He thought you might be what finally kills him.
"We aren't done, sweetheart." He groaned in your ear. "Get in the backseat because you are gonna tell me every single one of your fuckin' fantasies."
#james logan howlett#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#hugh jackman wolverine#logan howlett smut#deadpool and wolverine#logan x reader#wolverine angst#wolverine x reader#logan howlett angst#wolverine smut#wolverine#logan howlett imagine#wolverine fluff#wolverine x you#wolverine one shot#logan howlett fluff#logan wolverine#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan james howlett#logan#x men#old man logan x reader#x men comics#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#old man!logan#mcu#marvel movies
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retired!price liked that you had daddy issues. aw, did someone not have a functioning relationship with their father as a child and now has to find that relationship in older men? aw, poor doll. price was more than okay with being called 'daddy' as long as you called him 'captain' too, especially when you were on your knees. while you got off to having an older man praise you, he got off to a pretty little thing calling him captain. you even went as far as to worship his strong physic, how easily he could bend, flip, turn and press into you.
didn't help that your pussy became a fixation for him.
he was close to fifty, his hip had a habit of locking from time to time. he had been hearing about it for years that it was time to have a family. even simon had managed to make a family, price was still hung up on young tail that he could bully his fat cock into. while most younger women were flavours of the week with no string attached. price made sure to attach every metaphorical string onto you. he had a copy of your apartment key. he added a profile for you on his streaming services. he knew on wednesdays you enjoyed pasta, but hated cooking on the weekend. he knew everything about his precious baby girl. you folded into his praise and always were eager to please. and that was what price loved about you. so imagine his shock (anger) when you told him that you thought you'd have to end your arrangement because you met a guy at your university. and when he asked why, you simply said, "i have to grow up at some point.", and that hit price in the head like an ice pick. if you wanted to grow up so badly, baby girl. there were other ways to do it.
the broken condom held weight in price's pocket while you had few drinks during your last 'date' together, he waited till you got all soft because of the wine. till you were on his side of the booth with your leg over his lap and your face pressed against his bicep. you ran your hand across his chest and giggled, "you're taking this whole break up thing so well." and he petted your head, watching you fold into him further, "like you said, you need to grow up." but you both had different definitions of 'growing up'. for you it meant getting over you daddy issues, but to him it was making him a daddy, for real. you giggled further while he gave you another glass of wine. when you tried to say no, he simply pushed it closer to you, "don't want to waste the bottle." and so easily you were in price's grip.
price took you three times that night. first was in the backseat of his expensive car. he pressed you into a corner, claimed that he needed more space for his larger body. your hazy vision was transfixed on the glimmer of his gold chain against his hairy chest in the low light. your poor body bent in such ways while he pace was relentless. he admired your unsteady gaze and your heavy breathing. he continued to move against you with such a pace that the whole car rocked. but don't worry, the parking lot was dead at that hour. you could scream your head off and no one would hear either of you. he did however put a tear in your panties. right in the crotch area. he sighed and said that he'd need to buy you something a little. while he loved the cheap pairs you owned, he thought his woman deserved something a little nicer. the future mrs. price needed to look next to perfection.
then he fingered you heavily in his bed and watched you squirm. he had to make sure every drop got deep enough before he bullied your sweet pussy once more. he loved the sight of you, still so fucked out from prior. you were in a daze in the car ride home. your breathing was heavy when he pushed the skirt of your dress up a little and teased your cunt while he drove. only to go further once you were naked on his bed. he watched your ass jiggle with each of his power thrusts while he took you from behind. he felt like a mad man while he fucked you. he was determined. he only got to where he was in his career because of grit and determination. he wouldn't back down to a challenge, especially when the stakes were so high. your pussy need to be bred, you needed to be with price. he never wanted to hear anything about another man ever again. price would hate to take drastic measures if another man tried to get in his way. if you needed a collar or a tattoo, the taste of his cum constantly your lips or leaked into your panties, price would do it all to ensure that you were his. the most effective way to ensure that was what kept him going through two rounds of sex without any pains. to get you pregnant. you had already forgotten about the broken condom, it still was in price's pocket! no use using it now, even bother giving the illusion that he wasn't breeding you.
the third time was when you tried to leave the next morning, he had you upside down on the bed. your bottom half on the mattress while all the blood rushed to your head as you tried not to fall on your head. price put bruises on top of bruises. your poor cunt was creamy with promises of the future. a future with him. the blood rush made you cum twice on his cock, adding fresh slick to his coated cock. you thought that older men were supposed to slow down with age. but it felt like price was even quicker than before. his pace brutal, almost like punishment for trying to leave him. but price didn't get to be captain because he followed one plan. he was going to ease you into married life, slowly make you the perfect woman for him. he was traditional that way. church wedding, the white dress, the vows. that would all happen, but might take a little longer. he wasn't too sure that a baby bump would fit nicely in a wedding dress. the thought of you pregnant, trapped to him made him eagerly finish in you two times. and when he got you back up onto the bed, you were fucked out. when you managed to collect your clothes and stagger out of his flat by mid-afternoon, you thought you made it in time to the pharmacy to get emergency plan b.
you prayed, and you never prayed. you promised three versions of 'god' that you'd convert to their religion if the pill worked. but three deities failed you and a month later price was in your apartment with his hands on the plastic pregnancy test. he scratched his beard and looked at you. he tried so hard to put on his best acting face. "that's a real shame, baby girl." he said in that rough voice of his that got you in trouble in the first place. he leaned back a little in your kitchen chair and placed the test back down on the table, "always wanted to be a father." he frowned a little bit, "never got the chance too. they said when i retired that the chances were low of me havin' a baby..." he looked at you. you should've known he was lying. his swimmers obviously weren't shot by how easily you got pregnant. you felt bad, almost like you were burdening him with getting pregnant. that it was your fault. you rung your hands and admitted softly, "we can try... we can make a family." and price smiled, "oh, doll." then got up to embrace you. you sniffled and cried a little in his strong chest. he held you in his strong arms. he was your protector even though his cock was straining in his jeans at the knowledge that he fundamentally changed you.
your body, your life, everything. when he released you from the hug, he got down on his knees. made a point to make a small 'huff' noise from being down on his 'bad' knee before he pushed up your t-shirt and pressed a kiss against your stomach. he said to you, "don't worry, love. daddy'll take care of ya." then gave that smile that wrapped around you like a vice. <3
#bunny writes#bunny drabbles#retired!price#reader insert#call of duty#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john price cod#captain john price#john price#price smut#captain john price smut#john price smut#captain john price x you#captain johnathan price#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty x reader#call of duty smut#call of duty x you#cod smut#cod x reader#cod x you
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NSFW
warning: yandere and obsessive behavior, mentions of death and violence, possessiveness
Yandere!Angel adored you with all of his heart, worshipping you as his goddess. He abandoned his creator, instead turning to you.
He kissed along your thighs, his strong, large hands holding onto your plump thighs as he spread them open.
He always looked up at you for permission, his chin resting on your leg obediently. Despite the fact he was nearly twice your height, he acted like a needy puppy before you, willing to do anything to please you.
“May I?”
You nodded, sighing happily as his tongue licked your soft, fat pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you.
As he settled between your thighs, ready to worship his goddess, he began to remember how this all came to be.
He was supposed to be working on earth, helping guide humans to the correct path and keep them from sinning.
Instead, he ended up getting hurt, stranded on the side of the road with a broken wing.
He hadn’t been told how cruel humans could be.
So when you pulled over in your car, running up to him, he attempted to spread out his wings in a defensive display, his eyes shining bright enough to blind a man.
But his eyes dimmed and he yelped in pain as his broken wing moved. He fell back onto the ground, panting softly, looking up at you weakly.!
“Hey, hey…”
You knelt down, reaching out carefully to inspect his wing.
“Don’t touch me!”
You flinched, frozen in fear, his power causing you to be unable to move.
An angel’s command worked only on those pure of heart… so for a moment to examined you.
Soft and chubby with a kind face, like the cherubs he played with in heaven. As you did your best to bandage his wing, you noticed he was nearly twice the size of you… and very handsome.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise. See, it’s feeling better isn’t it?”
The angel watched you, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder as you dabbed some soothing cream onto his swollen skin. You were being so gentle with him, guiding him back to your car.
The way you kept him flush against you, being as gentle as possible to make sure his wounds wouldn’t be irritated made him feel… strange.
He barely fit in your backseat, having to lie down so you could close the door.
“… thank you…”
He nuzzled softly against you, his undamaged wing flapping. “You saved me… you’re so kind, like an angel… like…”
You turned to see him staring at you, his eyes big. The golden orbs observed with newfound interest, watching as you grabbed a med kit to further clean and treat his wounds.
‘Like a goddess…’ he thought to himself, not daring to say such blasphemy aloud.
As he began to recover, you noticed him staring, following you with his eyes every time you moved.
“Need something?”
He quickly looked away, his cheek flushing a soft pink. His wing fluttered in both nervousness and excitement.
“I… don’t need anything.”
It didn’t take him long to heal, his body was different than any human or animal, but… he still feigned pain when you touched his now healed wing.
“Ah, it still hurts?”
You soothed him, letting him nuzzle into you and look at you with those big golden eyes. He was utterly entranced, wanting to worship and adore you… no one had ever been so kind to him!
So that’s how he ended up like this, begging for you to use him, to order him around and to let him love and protect you for all of time.
The only catch was… he was the only one allowed to worship the temple that was your body.
He pulled his fingers from your wet cunt, his tongue struggling to part with your puffy clit. It wasn’t easy, but he knew from your whines and tugging on his pants that you wanted his cock now.
And he would give you anything…
He pushed his cock past your wet folds, stretching you on him. The first time he worshipped you this way, he cried with you as your body tried its best to accommodate his large size. He hated seeing you in pain…
Your pretty, ample breasts bounced deliciously as he moved his hips, unable to stop himself from fucking you like a wild animal.
God you were perfect, his angel, his goddess… and no one would ever get to see the look of ecstasy on your face when you came.
A warm bath had you sighing in relief after, your angel happily bathing you, kissing your feet and scrubbing your body as gently as possible.
Though it was difficult keeping his jealously at bay… being with him wasn’t too hard. If only you knew how many men he had killed due to his possessive nature…
You’d never even think he was capable. He was an angel after all, with soft blonde curls and the prettiest, most innocent golden eyes.
And he wanted you to remain ignorant to his second nature. He much preferred worshipping you while you were relatively free and happy…
But he’d lock you up if it meant keeping you to himself~
The angel settled you down with him after your bath, covering you with his soft, feathery white wings. He kept you close to his chest, kissing your head.
Everything was just perfect.
For now…
(More?)
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NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog
#tw yandere#angel x reader#yandere angel#yandere!angel#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x darling#body worship#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#monster bf#monster x human#monster smut#monster fucking#teratophillia#terat0philliac#teraphilia#terato#exophelia#fat reader#plus size reader
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──𐙚 bad boy, good girl / highschool sweet♡s
────୨ৎ────
content: highschool sweethearts, parking lot blowjob, backshots, they r lovebirds, dirty talk, praise, big cawck JK, creampie, desperate seggs, getting chased by cops, jungkook smokes and sells weed, is tatted UP, oc is a quiet good girl nerd
note from cherry: this request is MONTHS old but i finally wanted to write smth fluffy and sexy, hope u guys like it!!
@rockstryoon 4 u <3
────୨ৎ────
the backseat of his makeshift hot box, ford taurus smelled like sweat and weed,
fogged up windows that blur the beautiful sunset behind the barrier, strangely, the best views are always on random gas stations or parking lots,
much like this back alley parking spot of a local grocery store,
"fuck angel, just like that" jungkook groans, his full sleeve tatto glistening with wet droplets that spurr from his worked up, heated body
"yeah? like this baby?" you mumble through the soft licks to his fat mushroom head, pink and swollen, leaking with his arousal,
you bat your lashes up at him, squeezing his heart in the meantime,
"so fucking good, imagine everyone knew what a slut you are f'me" clenching around nothing, you shift between his spread, muscular thighs, shoving his length into the back of your throat- fuck, he fills it out so well, hitting the very back
"you take me so well sugar" his hand combes through your long strands, slicking them away from your face while you work your hot mouth on his cock, he moans- a long, desperate moan as the grip tightens
your slick practically pools in your panties, clinging to every crevice but hidden beneath the plaid, light blue skirt
his half lidded doe eyes flicker down to your messy, half opened blouse where your tits sit perfectly, full view of the small swells that fit inside his large, rough palms, your stiff buds standing proudly, begging for his attention,
he reaches down to cup your tit as best he could, groping it, toying with the fabric that covered your nipples while he rolls his fingers over them
Jungkook was nothing like you, and that's certainly why you love him,
While you spend your weekends studying for your advanced literature classes, he drives around selling weed, getting little addtions to his sleeve tatto, skipping classes to go escape the world for a little, only to sneak into your room by your window, roughed up and with his signature leather jacket, a little scratched by the tree he needs to get on to knock down the window he knew would be open,
he loves that about you,
That you're so good.
Nothing about your sweet, innocence smile smells like danger- like a police report or a chance of rebellion,
he adores how you get shy everytime he stares too long, how he never needs to worry about having to pick you up drunk out of your mind but god- does he love how much you care,
how you sit on his lap and clean up his rough skin after a fight, how your eyebrows wrinkle in concern when he lights up yet another cigarette
"m'so fucking close angel" your boyfriend mutters, lip tucked beneath his teeth, the long, shaky digits on his hands yank your messy hair, gripping it so tightly your pussy aches for relief,
like a primal instinct, his hips start rutting into your mouth, chasing, running after the wet, squeezing sensation of your body engulfing his,
It only takes your soft, manicured hands gripping the muscles of his thigh for him to snap, stuttered hips that paint your throat with a coat of his cum,
your almond, ombre nails do it for him every time, how small your palm is compared to him, how feminine you are- smell, look, feel
"good girls swallow sugar" he winks and you roll your eyes, knowing that you loved to taste him,
slightly salty, but it tasted like adoration nonetheless, you lick it off your bottom lip as well, before meeting his exhausted, loving eyes
"c'mere" nose burried in your jumbled hair, he takes a second to inhale your scent, soft, fresh laundry with a hint of cherry that resembles your beloved shampoo,
you can feel his quickened heartbeat, body crunched up in the confined space but you need more, if you could crawl in his skin, you would, needing him everywhere
Jungkook showed you that love is sometimes unconventional, and that's the most beautiful part
"you did so good, so good at sucking dick aren't you?" jungkooks whisper lingers in your ear, husky, still out of breath from his high,
"oh god- please be quiet"
one hit to his chest, another,
"okay, okay sugar, let me make it up to you" he chuckled, catching your wrist before you could throw yet another soft punch to his toned chest,
he manuvers excellently in the small space, manhandling you like it was the easiest thing he'd ever done, until you're plump rear is pointed up, arched back perfectly on display and decorated by the bunched up skirt you decided on today,
"you're so perfect you know? So pretty" you can feel his hands round over your ass, spreading them to reveal your dripping femininity all bare to him, the thong you wore now pooling at your ankles,
"i love these little things, they make you look so sexy" refering to the white thigh high socks that squeeze your thighs, he taps them,
"gguk please" your hips wiggle tesingly beneath his hungry eyes, he can see your hands pressed on the seat and your head hung down in anticipation,
one harsh slap,
"be Patient pretty, you're a good girl right?"
onther one, your skin slowly shifting into being covered in a girlish pink hue,
"are you not hm? are you a little slut after all?"
just as he's about to deliver another harsh spank to your skin, your softened, desperate voice sounds all around him, making his lips elicit a small groan,
"no gguk, i'm a good girl"
"that's right angel, such a good girl" he breathes out and finally joins his body in with yours, his stiff, angryly throbbing length held heavy in his hand,
"feel how big i am?" he teases, watching with his mouth hung open while he guided his tip between your soppy folds, grinding between them to coat himself in your stickiness, he nudges your clit, thrusting against it to watch how you clench around nothing,
"mh.. gguk.." you whine once more, biting down on your lip to not yell in desperation,
"I know pretty, i know" as he says this, his tip aligns with your entrance, pushing all the way in with one go,
"god you're so fucking tiny" jungkook moans, gripping your hips to pull you back against his pelvis, his abs flex at the contact, stiffening once he's nestled his entire girthy cock inside of you,
you could feel everything, his raw, throbbing cock filling out every crevice inside your flush walls, veins bulging against your warmth
he's ruthless with how he fucks into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size that will remain a stretch forever, snapping into you with force as you rock yourself back on him, tumbling out whimpers from your open mouth,
"yeah.. so good, my pussy, all mine, made for my cock" his torso connects with your back, wrapping his muscular arms around your trembling form as he reaches deep into your cunt, embracing the overwhelming pleasure you can only whine, moan, and hope that he wouldn't stop now,
"fuck, fuck baby you're so sexy" its now his turn to whine, he's becoming restless with his movements, moans growing more high pitched and needy with every deep push into you, his lip ring grazed by his tongue over and over again,
it's becoming too much- too much to feel your soft, small back colliding with his half revealed, sweaty torso, feeling your walls squeeze him, sucking him in so well,
Jungkook's head is spinning when he catches a glimpse of your face, red cheeks, shut eyes and a drooly mouth that begs for him, the soft strands of your well kept hair now messily falling over your shoulders and features,
but he completely looses it when you decide to grind your hip up and down, everytime he'd thrust back in, you'd keep him there a little, only pathethically grinding into his burried cock even more,
"no fuck- sugar, if you keep doing that i'm gonna fucking burst" he whines, attempting to stop his rapid orgasm but it feels too good, way too blissed out to really try and stop you,
"gguk please, i need it" you cry out, only now he notices your shaky hand thats poorly trying to play with your clit, he replaces it quickly, drawing tight circles on it while you keep grinding your hips,
"cum for me pretty, let go, make a mess on my cock" begging, pleading with you to make it messy for him, make him feel how you fall apart on him,
and god, you do,
trembling underneath his body that fully surrounds you, your knees buckle as they dig into the fabric beneath you, you practically collapse on your forarms and tits, hips held up roughly by the many hands that still them,
"oh fuck sugar, you're so cute" he rasps, fighting the urge to cry out of joy, he'a watching your eyes wet with overwhelming pleasure but all you can do is moan, stumble out his name and feel him, feel him coat your insides in his milky release,
he swears in that very moment that he never, ever wants to stop making you feel good
"that's it baby.. that's it.. such a good girl.." jungkook speaks against your skin, his tired hips halting inside of you but he's fully wrapped you in his arms now, kissing your delicate shoulder, stroking your hair to slowly ground the both of you,
you feel his fluttered kisses collide with your skin and the spotty vision slowly returns to a normal one, the sun has set entirely now, leaving a small glow to illuminate your boyfriends face and body,
"hi" you giggle, pecking his nose when faced with the handsome boy again,
"there she is" he smiles, pulling your lips in for a deep, slow kiss
"my little treasure" he mumbles into your lips, words getting lost in what the both of you call only call love, a stronger word not having been invented yet
"okay but, i promise you i could beat jake Paul in a fight" the laugh that rumbles deep inside your boyfriends chest brings a fond smile to your face, even though he's ridiculous, you would never tell him that
"Course you could, look at that bicep"
"Right? I knew i wasn't crazy!" Jungkook exclaimes, flexing the very muscle you're fingers attempt to curl around,
"pass me the lighter sugar"
He takes the small object from you, igniting the weak flame to light up the brown cigarette in between his fingers,
"A blunt? Now?"
Your round eyes widen, melting his poor heart,
while you knew he loved to smoke weed, he doesn't really do it often,
given that he mostly sells it to whoever asked him for it, as long as they were at least sixteen
he hums, taking the blunt to his lips before dragging a long puff of smoke out,
"never a bad time" while smile slightly, he presses a few kisses to your jaw, nuzzling his button nose against yours afterwards,
"Don't we wanna leave soon? It's cold gguk"
he contemplates for a secod, but as his mouth opens to reply, sirens start blaring, a blue, radiant light right with it
never a bad time huh?
"shit" he reacts quickly, putting the blunt out and starting up his engine,
panic sets in, your heart thumps like crazy inside your chest and you could feel the cortisol pouring from your neurotransmitters,
"gguk what-"
"shh baby, buckle up, don't be scared" as he says this, he quickly takes off from the parking lot, speeding down the empty street while the siren keeps blaring, cop car closely following behind,
Jungkook is no stranger to the police and of course, you try to grow acustom to it, but you've never been directly woven into his escapades, not like this
anxiously, your hands fumble with each other, images of your boyfriend in handcuffs flooding your head in rapid time,
"hey, relax pretty, i got you, i got you i promise" he says, almost too reassuringly while reaching for one of your hands,
the other one continues steering, his foot steep on the gas petal but the cops don't back off yet,
"This is scary" you whine, whipping your head back to see you've managed to create a safe distance,
"Well not my first, don't worry" jungkook chuckles and if it weren't for him driving you would punch him in the balls right now,
"Somtimes I forget you're crazy" you tell him in all honesty, relieved when after a good 8 minutes, the road is starting to grow quiet again
"Okay miss perfect" your boyfriend teases, sticking his tongue out childishly
But you don't mind, sticking yours right back out just when you both fall into lighthearted laughter
"I love you sugar" he says, squeezing your thigh softly,
"I love you too ggukie, by the way.."
"Hm?" he hums, licking his lips while his eyes trace the road attentively
"Where are you driving to?"
"Wendys, you need to eat and I know your precious brain must be all jumbled from our little adventure"
you smile, leaning over to kiss his cheek, biting it afterwards
he truly knew you all too well,
"Best boyfriend ever"
Jungkook laughs, nodding in agreement
"Gonna have desert in your bed though"
#redcherrykook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook smut#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic
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Title: Cherry Red.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).
Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.
Word Count: 1.9k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.
Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.
Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep – or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.
It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.
Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”
‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.
Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”
“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”
Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”
It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”
And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”
If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”
It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—
Oh, god.
As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.
He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”
For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”
You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.
There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”
Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”
A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.
You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.
~
You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.
Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”
Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”
“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”
You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.
You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.
At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere x you#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#yandere gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#yandere geto suguru#geto suguru x reader
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Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 1)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, smut
"Daddy? Can I ask you something?" Your and Charles' four-year-old daughter Louise, asks.
She was sitting in her car seat in the backseat of Charles car while he was driving her back to your place in Monaco. It was Sunday evening, the weekend was coming to an end and with that, Charles' time with his daughter for the week was also over.
"Of course, cherie. What is it?" He asked, briefly looking away from the road in front of him to look at his daughter behind him.
"When are you going to live with me and mommy again?" She asked innocently batting her big black eyelashes and waiting for an answer.
Charles's heart broke a little when he heard. This was the first she had asked him that since Charles had moved out of your shared apartment a year ago, and there was no way he could have prepared himself for this question.
"Oh, baby.." He sighed sadly with a pain in his chest. "I-I don't know. Maybe one day again, I hope.."
"But I want you to live with us now. I don't like it when you have to leave us."
He really didn't know what to say to her. He didn't even know how to explain the situation you found yourself in to himself, let alone to her. He could see Louise whenever he wanted, but this was some kind of agreement that the two of you had and most often it was that you had her during the week and he had her on his race-free weekends even tho sometimes he took her with him on races as well. So moments like this, when Sunday night comes and he has to return Louise to you by next Friday, were the hardest for him.
"I know, baby. I do too, it's just that at the moment, that's not possible, you know?" He said quietly tightening his grip on the steering wheel and leaning his head on the back of the seat.
"But mommy wants you to live with us too. I don't understand why don't you then?"
"Wh-what?" His breath paused briefly as he looked at Louise in the rearview mirror. "How do you know that, Lou?"
"Well, I asked her?" She sighs almost rolling her eyes at him, like, duhh how else would I know it?
"You asked her?" He chuckles. "And what did she say?"
"She said the same thing as you, maybe one day again. But I want to know when!" She says already irritated with always the same answer to her always the same question.
"Well, my love, if mom really said that, then I hope very soon." Charles says smiling, hope clearly audible in his voice. He wanted you to reconcile and be a family again so much that even this was enough to lift his spirits and restore hope in your relationship.
The drive to your apartment is over and soon Charles is knocking on your door holding Lou in his arms.
"Hello, baby!" You say excitedly as you opened the door, reaching out to Lou to take her in your arms.
"Hello" Charles greets you smiling.
"Hey, Charles" You greet him back taking Lou in your arms and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "How was the weekend? Was she good?"
"Of course, as always. We went to get new toys, her grand-mère came to visit and then we went for a walk and for ice cream. It was a lot of fun." Charles says.
"You got new toys, missy? Again?" You ask tickling her and making her laugh. "Good, good. Well, thanks for bringing her back."
"It's no problem. The next weekend is the race weekend so unfortunately I won't be able to have her."
"I know, I know." You say biting the inside of your cheek feeling a bit bad knowing how hard that was for him. "Are you gonna say bye to papa?"
"Can papa put me to bed?" Louise asked.
"But it's only 8:30 baby? You wanna go to sleep already?"
"But I want daddy to do it." She says.
You were a little taken aback because you felt like she didn't want you to do it like you usually do, but of course you didn't want to deny her her wish for Charles to be the one to do it this time.
"Well, if he wants to, then sure" You say looking at him.
"Of course I want to. Come here, baby" He takes her back from your arms kissing her temple and starts walking with her to her room.
You didn't follow them because you decided to let them have a moment for themselves, but you couldn't help but remember the nights you and Charles used to do it together. Him on one side of the bed, you on the other, Lou in the middle while Charles reads a bedtime story and you both listen.
You really missed that.
You really missed him.
But it was hard for you to admit it so you swallowed your tears once again and pretended it didn't bother you.
And so while Charles was putting your daughter to sleep, you occupied yourself with sorting the laundry that was left over from earlier today in your bedroom. After about half an hour, Charles came to greet you goodbye knocking on the door frame of your bedroom.
"Hey"
"Oh, hey. Did she fall asleep?" You asked.
"Yeah, she-" His attention was soon caught by an oversized black man's hoodie that was turned inside out and lying on your bed. His gaze was glued to it, and for a moment you weren't sure what he was looking at, so you looked in that direction too.
"I can't believe it" He sneered in disappointment.
"What?"
"Are you really having someone else here in our bedroom when Lou is with me?"
"Excuse me? What? What are you-" You were shocked and stunned by his accusations.
It was indeed a man's hoodie. But since it was turned inside out, Charles didn't recognize that it was actually his sweatshirt that he had forgotten to take when he moved out, and you loved it so much that you never wanted to give it back to him. And Charles being Charles, he jumped to a conclusion without letting you have a chance to speak and explain yourself.
"I can't believe it, y/n. You could have at least let me know that you decided to move on and see other people." He continued without stopping and anger slowly rose within you. "And how can you even bring him here? To our apartment? To our bedroom?"
You were offended and you didn't even want to justify yourself anymore, you just wanted to hurt him back because he thought such a thing.
"And why do you care if someone was here, huh?" You asked crossing your arms.
"Why do I care? Because while you're busy having other guys over here, our daughter is asking me if we'll ever live together again. That's why!" He said angrily, barely holding back from slamming his fist against the wall because he was so hurt by this situation and the very thought of you being with someone else.
"S-she asked you that?"
"Yes and I almost died when she did."
You didn't know what to do at that moment. You were sad and angry at the same time, but most of all hurt for your daughter. Before you could say anything, Charles turned and left the room.
As soon as the apartment door closed, you burst into tears. He left before you could tell him that it was actually his hoodie and that at nights when you can't sleep, like you couldn't last night, you put it on because it feels like he's there.
He didn't even give you time to tell him that you wear it when you miss him too much. Just like you did last night.
part 2
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#f1 smut#f1 x female reader#f1 one shot#f1 blurb#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 20k or more
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag
park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
FIRST TAGLIST (open.) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz
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friends [ceo!h x shy!reader]
synopsis: bambi meets harry's best friends.
word count: 8.8k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), drunk harry, shy reader, boyfriend!h
this is part 3 of Bambi, read part 2 here
. . .
Y/N was slowly but surely finding her rhythm at Pleasing. Thanks to Harry’s advice on making the most of each day (advice he apparently wrote a book about—though when Lindsey mentioned it, Harry had quickly shushed her and changed the subject), she had developed a solid morning and evening routine.
Her workdays at Pleasing fell on the busiest days of Harry’s schedule, which meant she was there three times a week. Those mornings began promptly at 7 a.m., with her clothes already laid out from the night before. After waking, she’d prepare breakfast for herself and her brothers, speaking to Harry on the phone as they went about their respective routines in separate homes. Once breakfast was done, she’d brush her teeth, do her makeup, and style her hair. By the time the school bus arrived to whisk her brothers away, her car would be rounding the corner to take her into the city.
Despite her hectic schedule, Y/N was managing to juggle her studies—though she couldn’t ignore that they were beginning to take a backseat. Lately, she’d found herself questioning whether she even wanted to continue her course. But with life moving at such a whirlwind pace, the thought of making a definitive decision felt overwhelming. For now, it was easier to just focus on the day-to-day.
To her surprise, Y/N was actually enjoying her job—something she’d never expected. She’d never been a fan of “adulting”; being forced to grow up quickly didn’t mean she had to like it. Paying bills, going to work, and worrying about the future had always felt like too much. But having a steady job offered her a rare sense of stability—one she appreciated more than she wanted to admit. It kept food on the table, gave her some consistency, and most importantly, brought her closer to Harry.
Keeping their relationship a secret, however, was proving to be a challenge. Surprisingly, Y/N was the more professional of the two, maintaining her composure in the workplace. She kept her hands to herself and avoided lingering glances, even when they were in the same room. Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as disciplined. He had a knack for initiating little interactions that straddled the line of propriety—always claiming they were “accidents.”
Like the time he held her hand just a second too long. Or the time he “accidentally” kissed her in the elevator right as the doors were opening. Then there was the incident during a meeting when, as she served tea, he tugged on the hem of her dress—apparently needing a refill.
Y/N couldn’t help but adore how infatuated he was, but she was determined to keep things professional. The last thing she wanted was for her coworkers to think she had an unfair advantage because of her relationship. Still, Harry’s innocent looks and playfulness made it hard to stay mad at him for long.
“I need to ask you something,” Harry said from his desk.
It was Wednesday evening and everyone had gone home. Harry had needed to catch up on some work so Y/N stayed behind after some convincing with the proposition he would drop her home afterwards. Y/N was sitting on the chair opposite, her notebook open and laptop screen. Her laptop was on its last legs, taking forever to load and lagging every five seconds but she could never afford a new one and having one was better than nothing.
“What’s wrong?” She looked up, wearing her glasses and face framed by wispy bits of loose hair that had escaped her messy bun.
Harry’s face brightened when she looked up at him. “C’mere, Bambi. Too far away.” He pushed himself away from his desk and gestured to his lap.
Y/N smiled and walked around the desk to sit in his lap. She straddled herself across his lap and wrapped both her arms around his neck, “Y’ smell good,” He murmurs, smelling her gingerbread cookie perfume even though it was Autumn, she was already excited for her favourite day of the year.
“What did you want to ask?” She pouted.
As if remembering he bought her over for a purpose, he continued, “This weekend, y’know you’re coming to stay the night?”
How could she forget? It was all she had been thinking about since he asked her. She had even bought brand new pyjamas with the remaining paycheck from her old job because her usual ones were worn and not as pretty. She had never been to a sleepover before let alone one with a man. She was’t sure what to expect but had seen movies where girls would sleepover and they’d paint each others nails and eat ice cream. She knew that wouldn’t be the case with Harry but she had made a list of other things they could do together that he’d enjoy too.
“I know,” Y/N nodded, brows furrowed as she waited for him to continue. Part of her couldn’t help but worry. Did he not want her to sleep over anymore?
"Some of my friends are having a dinner get together type thing," Harry said, his tone casual but hopeful. "I haven’t said I’ll go yet because I knew you were coming over, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me?"
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "To the dinner party? With you?"
Harry smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah, with me. Who else?"
She blinked, processing his words. "I’d be meeting your friends?" she asked cautiously. "Are you sure about that?"
"Why wouldn’t I be sure?" he replied, his brow lifting slightly.
"I don’t know, I just..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to explain the nervous flutter in her chest.
"Ah, there y’go, Bambi," Harry smirked, leaning in just enough to make her cheeks burn. "Getting all flustered."
"I’m not flustered!" she protested, though the warmth in her face betrayed her.
Harry chuckled, his gaze warm and steady as it met hers. "It makes me happy, you know—thinking about introducing you to my friends. They were excited when I mentioned you."
"They were?" Y/N asked, her brows lifting in surprise.
"Mhm," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "They know it’s rare for me to bring someone I’m dating into the mix this early on." He leaned in, nuzzling against her neck and pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "So, will you come? We can head back to mine after."
She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay... but I don’t know if I have anything to wear."
Harry smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Y’know I can sort that," he teased.
Y/N’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she bit back a shy smile as his confidence and charm worked their usual magic.
. . .
Y/N glanced down at her suitcase, biting her lip. Did I overpack for one night? Probably. She always did.
Growing up, money had been tight, but once Y/N started earning her own at sixteen, she’d developed a habit of indulging herself. Not extravagantly—there were no designer handbags or flashy purchases—but enough to feel like she was treating herself after the grind of a day. Skincare, makeup, clothes—her modest earnings often vanished in the blink of an eye.
Fashion was her weakness. Her clothing rack groaned under the weight of her ever-expanding wardrobe, frequently collapsing as if protesting her relentless shopping habit. Packing for this overnight stay at Harry’s had been no exception. She’d started with a backpack, then upgraded to a duffle bag, only to realize that wouldn’t fit everything she might need. Now, her suitcase sat by the stairs, practically mocking her indecision.
“Whoa.” Sammy’s voice broke her thoughts as he sauntered into her room, a chocolate bar in hand. “Are you moving in?”
“No,” Y/N huffed, hands on her hips. “I just want to be prepared.”
Sammy raised an eyebrow. “You know, he could just stay here instead.”
Y/N stilled. The boy’s first night without her had everyone feeling uneasy, and she knew Sammy wasn’t looking forward to it. His gaze was guarded, but she could see the vulnerability underneath.
“It’ll be fine,” she reassured, stepping closer. “It’s just one night. If you really hate it, we’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “There’s going to be a day when you move out. And leave me. With Mom. Or... without her.”
The words hit harder than he intended. Y/N swallowed the lump forming in her throat, reaching out to him. She saw the sadness etched in his eyes, a reflection of her own fears. “Wherever I go, you go,” she whispered firmly.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Sammy leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Y/N held him close, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling away.
The sound of a knock at the front door jolted her. She glanced at the clock, muttering a quick, “That’s Harry,” as she rushed downstairs. She wanted to intercept him before Archie could get started—her little brother’s chatter had a way of turning quick visits into extended stays.
Yanking the door open, she froze. Harry stood there, a beaming smile lighting up his face despite the chill in the air. He wore a puffer jacket and shorts, his casual confidence making her heart skip.
“Hi, Harry,” she greeted, cheeks tinged pink, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or his presence. Without thinking, she leapt into his arms, her sock-clad feet barely touching the doorstep.
“Hi, Bambi,” he chuckled, steadying her as his arms closed around her. “Y’ready to go?”
“Mhm.” She pulled back, slipping on her shoes. “Let me say goodbye to the boys.”
Harry’s gaze shifted behind her, landing on the suitcase by the stairs. A laugh bubbled from him. “Are you planning on moving in?”
Y/N furrowed her brows, following his line of sight. When realization dawned, she flushed. “Oh, that. I, uh... didn’t know what I’d need.”
His grin softened as he stepped closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, Bambi,” he murmured. “M’just excited to have you over.”
She smiled, her heart swelling as he leaned in for another kiss. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed her suitcase and carried it effortlessly to the car.
After she had bid goodbye to her brother’s and promised them some much needed one on one time with them once she came back from Harry’s house, Y/N took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the next twenty four hours.
. . .
In the car to Harry’s apartment, Y/N sat in the passenger seat with one hand intertwined with Harry’s whilst he drove with his other. The radio played through the car speakers, avoiding complete silence on the journey. The dulcit tones of Marvin Gaye playing throughout.
“Y’ hands are freezing,” Harry said. Y/N instinctively tried to pull away as though her hand being cold was a bad thing but Harry clung tighter, raising both their hands and kissing her knuckles before blowing his warm breath over her hand. “Do you need me to up the heater?”
Y/N shook her head, “No it’s okay, my hands get cold when I’m nervous.” She confessed.
Harry frowned, “Nervous? Are you okay?”
Y/N cringed, “M a little worried about meeting your friends. What if they don’t like me?”
Harry gave her a comforting smile, “Bambi, they’re so excited to meet you. You have nothing to worry about. They’ve met other girls I’ve dated and trust me when I say you’re a walking angel in comparison to them.”
“H-Have you dated a lot of other girls?” Y/N felt awkward bringing it up but her curiosity was getting the better of her. Harry had only mentioned briefly of the other women he had dated. Of course he had dated other women, he was a successful, handsome millionaire with a fashion company. It would be pointless trying to deny it.
Harry thought for a moment like he was trying to think carefully about his response, “I’ll be honest, I used to date a lot of women when I first started making money. I wasn’t very good when I started getting attention from the press. I drank a lot and spent money on buying out nightclubs and bars for the night.”
Y/N was shocked. She tried to picture her Harry being the version of himself he spoke about. “But my company was no where near as successful as it is now so even though I was spending a lot, I was losing a lot too. I nearly went bankrupt at one point which really gave me a kick up the ass. My sister, she’s an accountant back home in England, she came to visit and helped me get my act together.”
“Oh wow,” Y/N didn’t really know what else to say. She couldn’t seem to envision her sweet, soft and wholesome Harry being a party animal and spening nights in bars for days on end.
“Did that put you off?” Y/N immediately shook her head.
“Of course not, we’ve all got things we’re not proud of.” Y/N replied.
Harry smiled, “What about you? Any psycho ex-boyfriends I need to worry about?”
Y/N laughed, “No lucky for you, I don’t think a single guy has ever taken interest in me.”
“I highly doubt that Bambi but you’re right, I am very lucky.” Harry flashed a cheeky grin, turning the wheel around the corner and stopped outside the tallest building she had ever seen that looked as though it was completely made of glass.
Y/N’s was unable to say anything when her eyes gazed up at the towering stack of apartments. “You live in this building?” Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off, her neck permanently craned to look up. She was pretty sure the hjgihest point of the building resided in the clouds.
Harry said nothing, parking his car in the private parking spot. He went to the back to grab her suitcase, Y/N stepping out of the car and walking around to meet him.
“C’mon Bambi,” Harry chuckled at her awe-struck expression.
They walked hand in hand through the lobby which looked as glamorous as you’d expect. Harry gave a nod to the security at the door as they went past and headed towards the elevator. Y/N’s eyes widened when his finger pressed the button for the top floor.
The doors to the elevator opened and Y/N thought she might actually pass out.
She stepped into Harry’s penthouse, her breath catching as her gaze swept over the space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, all the people and cars down below looked like ants. The open layout was both elegant and inviting, with warm ambient lighting casting a golden glow over the neutral-toned furniture and rich wooden floors.
“Wow,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step further inside. The plush cream sofa, the sleek coffee table stacked with books, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air all felt so Harry—effortlessly stylish and welcoming.
Harry chuckled behind her, setting her suitcase by the door. “You like it?”
“Like it?” she breathed, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Harry, this is... incredible.”
He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “M’glad you think so. Wanted it to feel comfy, y’know? Somewhere I could actually relax.”
Y/N nodded, her eyes drifting back to the view. “Sometimes I forget how rich you are.”
Harry chuckles from behind her, “I’m actually very glad to hear that.”
She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands gently against the glass as she looked out at the city sprawling beneath them. For a moment, it felt like they were floating above it all, separate from the noise and chaos of the world below.
Harry joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “S’better with you here,” he murmured, his voice soft.
Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest as she leant into him. Harry kissed her shoulder, turning her round to face him. He smiled when her eyes met his, “We have some time before we need to get ready, do you want to go unpack?”
“Oh of course, am I sleeping on the couch?” Harry furrowed his brows before bursting out laughing, water almost fell from his eyes. Y/N frowned, confused at his reaction.
“You don’t want to sleep in my room Bambi? With me?” Y/N’s cheek scorched red but Harry just continued to laugh, “I mean I’m happy to sleep on the couch and let you sleep in my room if that’s what would make you comfortable.”
“No, it’s okay! I was just messing around,” She was all flustered. The idea of sleeping in Harry’s bed with him hadn’t crossed her mind like it maybe should have.
“Are you sure? Y’ know I wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.” Y/N’s shoulders sunk at his sincere concern, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. This time it was his turn to be surprised since it was rare for her to be the first to initiate a kiss between them.
“I know,” She smiled, “I want to sleep in your room… with you.”
Harry smiled, “Good. Let me give you a tour first.”
Harry led Y/N back toward the kitchen, still holding her hand as they strolled through the open-concept living area. “First stop: the kitchen,” he said, motioning grandly as they stepped into the sleek, modern space.
Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a large island that looked like it had been plucked from a home design magazine. A trio of pendant lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the pristine surfaces.
“Wow,” she breathed, running her fingers along the smooth countertop. “This is amazing. Do you even use it?”
Harry grinned, leaning casually against the island. “I use it for takeout. Does that count?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how anyone could resist cooking in here.”
“I can resist pretty easily, love,” he said with a smirk. “But if you ever fancy cooking together, I’m happy to assist. I’m great at stirring things and, uh… taste-testing.”
“Of course you are, no wonder you own a restaurant.” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge.
Harry chuckled, then nodded toward a door off to the side. “Alright, next stop: my office.”
He guided her through the door and into a smaller, cosier room that contrasted with the open, airy feel of the rest of the penthouse. The office was lined with dark wood shelves filled with books, a few framed photos, and scattered trinkets. A large desk sat in front of another set of floor-to-ceiling windows, the view just as stunning as the one in the living room.
“This is where I get most of my work done,” he said, walking over to the desk and leaning on it. “Or where I try to, anyway. Sometimes I just sit here and stare out at the city.”
Y/N wandered over to the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the spines of the books. “It’s so… you,” she said softly, glancing at the little details—a framed photo of him with his family, a guitar pick sitting on a stack of papers, and a candle that smelled faintly of cedar.
He raised an eyebrow. “You mean messy?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “I mean it’s thoughtful. Personal.”
Harry’s smile softened, and he reached out to take her hand again. “Alright, enough of the boring office. Time to show you the best room in the house.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he led her back down the hallway to his bedroom. When he pushed open the door, her breath hitched.
The bedroom was even more stunning than she’d imagined. The centerpiece was a massive bed with crisp white linens that looked impossibly soft, surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture. The far wall was made entirely of glass, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering city below. Heavy curtains were drawn to the sides, framing the view like a painting.
Harry watched her take it all in, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So? What do you think?”
“It’s… incredible,” Y/N whispered, stepping into the room. She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands against the glass as she gazed out at the city. “I don’t think I’d ever sleep. I’d just stay up staring at this view.”
“Well, lucky for you,” Harry said, coming up behind her and resting his hands gently on her shoulders, “the bed is comfortable enough to make you forget about the view.”
She turned to look at him, her cheeks warming. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”
Harry grinned, his dimples on full display. “Challenge accepted, Bambi.”
He took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down beside her. The mattress really did feel like a cloud as she sank into it.
“I was serious earlier,” Harry said, his tone softer now. “You can sleep wherever you want—the bed, the couch, the office chair if you’re feeling adventurous. I just want you to be comfortable.”
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “I already told you, Harry. I want to sleep here. With you.”
His eyes lit up at her words, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that too.”
Harry stood up, “I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ve just go to make a few calls but there’s an ensuite bathroom you can use to freshen up.”
After Harry brought her suitcase to the bedroom, he left her to unpack. Y/N unzipped it and pulled out her washbag, heading into the ensuite bathroom.
The bathroom was stunning—a walk-in shower with dark tiles and jets built into the walls. She stepped to the sink, admiring the clean lines of the vanity, and placed her washbag carefully on the counter. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed all of Harry’s skincare neatly organized in a cute little spinning container—it was such a contrast to her own chaotic setup. But then her eyes landed on the glass by the sink, where his toothbrush rested.
Beside it was a pink toothbrush.
Her heart softened at the sight, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. There was something about that simple detail that made her feel all warm and gooey inside. She’d never believed she would find someone she’d want to spend so much time with but here she was staying the night with Harry and about to meet his friends.
Y/N walked into the living room, where Harry was already sitting on the couch with his laptop perched on her lap. He smiled when he saw her, and then his gaze fell to the object she was holding. “Is that Monopoly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Y/N nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, it’s the original version. I asked my brothers if I could bring it with me since we've had this set forever, and they would absolutely murder me if I lost any pieces. We have to be able to play it at Christmas."
The corner of Harry’s lips quirked in amusement. “Hmm, may I ask why you decided to bring Monopoly with you today?”
Y/N paused, clearly puzzled. “Isn’t that what people do at sleepovers? Play games?”
Harry’s grin spread wider. As she stepped closer, he reached out, pulling her toward him. She ended up collapsing onto his chest with a soft laugh.
“Oh, Bambi,” he murmured, showering her face with quick kisses. His lips tickled her skin, making her giggle uncontrollably. “You’re the most precious girl I’ve ever known, you know that?”
She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Does that mean you want to play?”
Harry gave a dramatic sigh, still grinning. “Of course! Are you kidding me? I love this game.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. “Well, be prepared. I’m not one to brag, but I’m pretty good at it.”
His eyes lit up with challenge. “Oh, Bambi’s competitive, I see.”
A spark flickered in her eyes as she leaned in slightly, “Just a little.”
. . .
Harry loved discovering the many layers of his Bambi. To the outside world, she was shy and quiet, but to him, she was a multi-faceted woman, full of surprises he was peeling back one by one. Yet this afternoon might have revealed his favorite side of her yet.
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief as she declared her victory in Monopoly—long before the game had officially ended. Harry had debated whether to let her win, as any gentleman might, but it turned out he didn’t need to. She was fiercely competitive and had wiped the floor with him in just thirty minutes.
If time had allowed, Harry would’ve played another round or concocted a new game just to watch her face light up with that same playful energy. The afternoon spent with her, laughing over a simple board game, had him envisioning Christmas mornings and holiday traditions for years to come. It was silly, perhaps, to think so far ahead so early in their relationship, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t picture a future without Bambi in it.
Still, as the game wrapped up, he could see her nerves creep back in. The mention of preparing to meet his friends made her retreat into herself, her earlier exuberance melting into quiet apprehension. Despite his reassurances, Harry knew she’d wrestle with her anxiety until the dinner was behind them.
His friends, on the other hand, were eager to meet her. Their group chat had been buzzing with excitement about “the girl who finally tied him down.” Since Harry’s family was back in England, his friends were the closest thing he had to family in LA, making their opinions matter. But he had no doubt they’d love her.
In the living room, Harry waited for Y/N to finish getting ready, dressed in his tailored dark suit with a relaxed fit. The loose white tank underneath, with its wide scoop neckline, subtly revealed his tattoos, and the Pleasing logo stitched at the hem added a personal touch. Cream-colored loafers and white socks completed the look, his short curls neatly styled to keep them from obscuring his face.
The click of the bedroom door snapped him from his thoughts. He rose from the sofa, as alert as a puppy hearing its owner return. When Y/N stepped out, the oxygen seemed to leave the room entirely.
Her dress was light pink, soft and flowing, with thin spaghetti straps and a V-shaped neckline that showcased her décolletage. The slightly sheer fabric hinted at her elegant curves, while the asymmetrical hemline added a whimsical touch. Her hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and her makeup was pink-toned and dewy, enhancing her natural glow. She paired the dress with strappy silver heels and a small, dainty bag dangling from her shoulder.
Her hand clung to her opposite arm, feeling vulnerable as she stood before him. Harry felt his breath hitch, his lips parting as he tried to absorb how breathtaking she looked.
“Bambi…” he managed, his voice low and reverent.
Her cheeks flushed. “Is it too much?” she asked softly.
Harry stepped closer, taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You look beautiful. I don’t even have the words to tell you how incredible you are.”
She ducked her head, shy like the deer he affectionately nicknamed her after. “Thank you. You look very handsome, too,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world.
“Do you like my dress?” she asked, her voice tentative.
Harry’s hands slid to her waist, feeling the soft fabric and the gentle curve of her silhouette. “I love it.”
“I made it,” she admitted, her blush deepening.
His brows lifted in surprise. “You did?”
She nodded, and Harry was awestruck. He’d seen her sketches before—ones she had reluctantly shared after he begged—but seeing her creations come to life was something else entirely.
Harry glanced at his watch, sighing reluctantly. “We should probably get going, but first…” He pulled out his phone, aiming it at the two of them. Y/N laughed, trying to push the camera away, but eventually relented, leaning in to kiss his cheek just as he snapped the photo. His grin widened, his eyes crinkling with joy.
Taking her hand, he asked, “Do you need a jacket?” His gaze flicked to her bare arms.
“I’ll be okay, as long as the bar has heating,” she replied with a small laugh.
Harry chuckled but grabbed a jacket on their way out anyway. He knew her well enough to anticipate the moment she’d get cold but wouldn’t say a word about it.
The drive to the bar felt like it took forever, thanks to the heavy city traffic. Harry’s hand remained warm on her thigh, and she wrapped her arm around his, seeking comfort from his touch. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to stop.
“A little,” she confessed, glancing over at him. “I just want them to like me. I’ve never had to introduce myself to anyone’s friends before... I don’t want to mess up.”
“You’ll be fine, Bambi,” Harry reassured her, his voice calm as always. He’d said it so many times already, and she knew he’d say it dozens more if she needed to hear it. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need to be.”
Y/N wouldn’t say it out loud, but the age difference between her and Harry’s friends had been weighing on her mind all evening. The nine-year gap between her and Harry had never been an issue for them—it felt inconsequential when they were together. But his friends might see it differently.
What if they thought she was too young, too inexperienced, too… immature for someone like him? Worse, what if they assumed she was with him for his success, for the money he worked so hard to earn? The mere thought made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be judged on circumstances she couldn’t change or assumptions she couldn’t dispel.
Harry’s friends meant a lot to him, and their approval—or lack of it—would sting far more than she cared to admit.
She nodded anyway, letting out a slow breath and turning her gaze to the window. The city lights blurred outside, their glow reflecting in her eyes. Even though his words helped calm her, she still couldn’t shake the nerves.
When they pulled up to the bar, the fancy building loomed in front of them. A valet was already waiting, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Harry always seemed to have the luxury treatment everywhere they went. It was a reminder of how different her world was from his, but she tried not to dwell on it.
As Harry stepped out of the car, Y/N noticed the photographers waiting outside. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still made her stomach tighten. Harry wasn’t a mega-celebrity, but he was well-known enough in the business world that the occasional paparazzi was inevitable.
Harry opened the door for her, his hand gently resting on her hip as he helped her out. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and it felt like both a reassurance for her and a subtle message to the photographers.
The bar was dimly lit and sophisticated with shiny tables and chairs with red upholstery. Live jazz music played as people chatted over glasses of wine that probably cost more than Y/N’s monthly wages had to offer. “Do you own this bar?” Y/N asked, clinging a little bit tighter to Harry’s hand.
Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not this one,” he said, guiding Y/N toward a booth at the back of the bar. As they approached, the laughter of a group already seated at the table reached her ears. The sound was warm, familiar, like a group of people who had known each other for years.
A man with long brunette hair had his arm around a woman with similar dark hair that cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The two of them were laughing, their faces lit up in shared joy, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as they neared the group.
Before she could even take a deep breath, one of the men spotted them walking over. He had a rugged beard, and he stood up with a grin, his drink in hand.
“Harry!” he called out, extending his hand.
Harry gave him a knowing grin and shook his hand firmly, his other arm still wrapped around Y/N. “Mate,” he greeted warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.
Y/N watched the exchange, trying to hide the anxious flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she knew this was an important moment for her. She hadn’t met many of Harry’s close friends yet, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be a defining moment—how they reacted to her, how she’d fit in with this group that meant so much to him.
The man with the beard turned to Y/N, his eyes flickering with curiosity, and then he offered her a smile. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his tone warm and welcoming. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
Y/N smiled, a little relieved at the friendly tone in his voice. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, her nerves still there but starting to ease. “I’ve heard so much about you guys.”
Harry stood beside her, his hand still resting at the small of her back, offering her silent support as she navigated this new territory.
The man with the beard grinned as he stepped back, giving Y/N a moment to breathe. "This is Mitch," Harry said, gesturing to the man with long brunette hair who was seated next to a woman with equally dark hair. Mitch gave her a warm, easy smile, his arm casually wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders.
"It’s great to meet you, Y/N," Mitch said, his voice easy and friendly. "Harry’s told us all about you."
Y/N’s nerves eased a little more as Mitch’s friendly demeanor helped her feel at home. "I hope it’s all good things," she said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.
"Oh, definitely," Mitch replied, nudging Harry with his elbow and giving him a teasing grin.
Sarah, Mitch’s girlfriend, stood up from the booth with a bright smile, her waves of dark hair catching the light. She reached out to shake Y/N’s hand, her voice warm and welcoming. “Hi! I’m Sarah. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered, but Sarah’s friendly tone immediately put her at ease. “Nice to meet you too,” she replied with a smile, trying to match Sarah’s warmth. "Harry's mentioned you guys a lot."
“Good things, I hope,” Sarah teased, winking as she sat back down beside Mitch.
Before Y/N could respond, a deep voice from the other side of the booth spoke up. “You must be Y/N,” a man with a thick beard said, “I’m Jamie.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Y/N smiled.
Jamie gave her a smile that seemed to take up half his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Harry’s been keeping us in the loop." He offered her a firm handshake, his grip warm. “It’s about time we met the girl who finally has him whipped.”
Finally, a woman sitting across from Jamie stood up, her presence immediately commanding attention. Alessia was striking—her short hair framed her face with confidence, and her posture was strong. She offered Y/N a small, warm smile. "I’m Alessia," she said, extending a hand. "It’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harry."
"Nice to meet you too," Y/N said, shaking her hand with a smile. There was something calming about Alessia’s assuredness that made Y/N feel at ease, even though she was a little more reserved than the others.
As Alessia returned to her seat, Harry’s hand still rested on Y/N’s back, a silent comfort in the midst of the introductions, as they sat in the booth next to Sarah and Mitch. His friends were exactly as he’d described—kind, welcoming, and playful. They were a perfect match for Harry and that bought a sense of relief to her.
“Can I get you a drink?” Harry murmured to Y/N, his hand gently brushing against hers as he leaned in.
Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had never really drunk alcohol before—not because she didn’t want to, but simply because she never really went out drinking. Whenever she was out with her brothers, she always stuck to something safe like Coke or Sprite. She felt a little embarrassed to admit that she wasn’t sure what to order.
“Um…” She fumbled for words, feeling self-conscious. "I...I don't really know what to drink."
Harry’s smile softened, as if he understood right away. “Would you like me to pick something for you?”
Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. He wasn’t making her feel stupid. "Yes, please," she said gratefully, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
With a nod, Harry turned and motioned for the guys to follow him toward the bar. As they walked off, Y/N felt her nerves kick in again. She was left standing with Sarah and Alessia, the two women who already seemed so at ease with each other and the group.
Y/N suddenly felt a little out of her element. She wasn’t used to hanging out with other women in this kind of setting. With her brothers, everything was easy and casual, but this... this felt different. She was afraid that her awkwardness would be obvious, so she searched for something to say, anything to break the silence.
It didn’t take long for Sarah to sense her discomfort. She leaned forward with a welcoming smile. “Where’s your dress from? It’s gorgeous,” she asked, her voice light and friendly.
Y/N's face softened at the compliment, and she felt more at ease. “Oh, um, I actually made it,” she said, a little shy but proud. "I love fashion, so I’ve been sketching designs for a while."
Sarah’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wait, you made it? That’s amazing!” She looked at Y/N with genuine admiration. “It looks beautiful on you. I honestly thought it was something you bought from a high-end store.”
Y/N laughed softly, feeling a bit shy but happy with the compliment. “Thanks, that means a lot. I’ve kept a lot of my sketches in an old notebook, but I’ve always wanted to show them to someone.”
“I would love to see them sometime,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “I’m obsessed with fashion too. Maybe we can swap ideas sometime.”
Alessia, who had been listening with a smile, chimed in. “You’re really talented. I’m sure Harry’s lucky to have someone so creative around especially with his company.”
“Do you guys work in fashion too?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious about the two women she’d just met.
“Just Harry, I’m afraid,” Sarah replied with a playful smile. “We all went to art school, though. Mitch and I own an art gallery together, and Jamie runs a theatre company.”
“And I design album art for artists,” Alessia added, her voice warm and casual.
Y/N’s eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow. That’s so impressive. Is that how you all met? Through art school?”
“Yep, we were kind of the outcasts of our year group,” Sarah said with a chuckle, “so we stuck together. And look where we are now.”
Y/N smiled, feeling the closeness between the group. “That’s so cool. And... were you and Mitch together back then?”
“Oh no,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Sarah and Mitch didn’t get together until after art school. It was excruciating to witness—those two pining over each other for four years and never doing anything about it.”
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Alessia’s blunt description. “That sounds like a movie.”
“It kind of was,” Sarah said, laughing with her. “But it worked out in the end.”
“I bet Harry told you about us,” Alessia continued, leaning in a bit. “He told us he was bringing you tonight, and we were all nervous, actually.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really? I was nervous too.”
“Are you kidding? After Harry’s last ‘girlfriend,’” Sarah said with a playful eye-roll, “we thought we’d be meeting some bitchy gold-digger who’d be all over him, trying to separate him from us. But then we met you, and it was like, thank God—you’re nothing like that. Honestly, we’re so relieved.”
“Harry talks about you non-stop,” Alessia added with a teasing grin. “For the last month and a half, it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that,’ in our group chat. It’s kind of sweet, honestly.”
“Really?” Y/N blinked, her face softening with surprise.
Sarah smiled warmly. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s nice to hear. He deserves someone who treats him right, you know? Especially after everything he’s done for all of us.”
Alessia nodded, her expression turning a little more serious. “He got me out of some serious debt. I was on the brink of losing everything, close to being homeless... but Harry stepped in. He rented me a place, helped me get back on my feet, and even called in a favor that landed me my first real job. He’s the most caring person I know.”
Y/N’s heart warmed at Alessia’s words. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone speak so highly of Harry, but it never failed to move her. Hearing it from his friends, people who had seen him at his best and worst, made her realise just how deeply Harry cared about the people in his life—and just how lucky she was to be part of it.
Soon Harry returned with the boys, sliding into the seat next to her. He placed a drink in front of her, “I got you an Aperol Spritz but if you don’t like it I can get you something else.” He told her.
“Thank you,” She beamed up at him and took a sip of her drink. It was light and bubbly with a slight bitter yet citrusy taste. The more she drank, the more she enjoyed the taste of it.
Harry continued conversing with his friends, and Y/N found herself enjoying the easy banter between them. It was nice to see this side of him—relaxed, almost boyish, and playful. The way his friends teased each other with such familiarity made her smile, and it felt like she was catching a glimpse of Harry’s world before she’d come into it.
She liked his friends. All of them were warm and welcoming, each with their own distinct personalities, but there was a genuine closeness that she could see. They kept her in the loop, filling in the gaps on things she might not have fully understood—like an inside joke or a shared memory—until she felt like she was beginning to grasp the dynamics between them.
Sarah and Alessia were especially attentive, constantly asking her questions and trying to learn everything about her. Y/N appreciated their curiosity and kindness. They didn’t make her feel like an outsider, instead showing genuine interest in her life and her background.
Every so often, Y/N would catch Harry looking down at her. He’d check in on her, his gaze soft, making sure she was okay and not feeling overwhelmed. His protective instincts were clear, and she was grateful for it. He didn’t hover, but whenever he could, he’d quietly reassure her with a small smile or a squeeze of her hand under the table.
Despite the lively atmosphere, Y/N felt like she wasn’t just another guest at the table—she was part of the conversation, part of the group. And it was easy to relax into that sense of belonging as the night wore on. Even though she was still a little out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t help but feel more at ease with every passing minute, especially with Harry so nearby.
She laughed at something Sarah had said, a light, genuine sound that felt more natural than she expected. The whole night had been surprisingly fun, and for once, she was enjoying being part of something so lively, instead of shrinking back.
“So Y/N, what’s Harry like as a boyfriend?” Jamie asked, causing Y/N to freeze in her seat.
Harry’s hand stilled from where it had been drawing invisible circles on her knee. The table seemed to pause, sensing the awkwardness in the air.
“That bad?” Jamie chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.
Y/N’s mind scrambled for the right words. She wasn’t sure how to describe their relationship—things were still new, and they had never really put a label on it beyond "dating." Her mouth felt dry as she fumbled for a response.
“U-um, we’re not— I don’t think—” Y/N stumbled, her face flushing. She didn’t know how to put it into words, not wanting to make things awkward or overthink it.
Before she could continue, Sarah quickly chimed in with a grin, “A better boyfriend than you.”
The entire table burst out laughing, and the tension in the air seemed to lift immediately. Jamie threw his hands up in mock defeat, shaking his head with a smirk.
“Alright, alright. I’ll take the loss. But I’m definitely curious now,” he said, leaning forward. “What makes Harry such a great boyfriend, then?”
Y/N glanced at Harry, meeting his eyes, which were filled with amusement but also a warmth that made her heart skip. "Yeah, Bambi, what am I like as a boyfriend?"
Her lips parted at the question. It was the first time he had referred to their relationship so openly, and the realisation hit her in a way that made her smile nervously.
“Well,” Y/N began, her voice softening as she relaxed, “he’s incredibly thoughtful. He’s always checking in on me, making sure I’m alright, and—he actually listens. He’s not the kind of guy who brushes off what I say or rushes through things. He’s really present.”
Harry’s hand slid over to hers under the table, his fingers intertwining with hers in a quiet show of support. He squeezed her hand gently, his gaze tender, saying everything without needing words.
“And he’s fun,” Y/N added with a light laugh, her nervousness easing. “He doesn’t take himself too seriously, which is honestly one of my favorite things about him.”
Harry’s smile deepened at her words, and there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was asking her a question without saying it aloud. “I love it… Being his girlfriend.” Y/N blushed but Harry’s face widened into a grin, one of his dimples appearing on his cheek.
The group exchanged knowing glances, clearly enjoying the moment. Alessia raised her glass, her eyes twinkling.
“To Y/N, we wish you all the luck in the world for having to put up with us.” she said, toasting her with a wink.
Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses, and Y/N felt her heart swell at the way Harry’s friends rallied around them.
. . .
Y/N hadn’t noticed how much Harry had had to drink until his head rested on her shoulder, in the middle of her conversing some more with Sarah and Alessia, “Think I want to go home Bambi,” He murmured. Y/N pushed his droopy curls back and saw the hazy look in his eye, a lazy smile on his lip, “So pretty,” His lips puckered as he spoke.
Y/N giggled, “How are we meant to get home silly, you drove us here.”
“Oh yeah,” Harry huffed, “I did didn’t I?”
Sarah chuckled, “We can drop you guys home on the way back to our place. We’ll just tell the valet to keep hold of his car. He can pick it up tomorrow as punishment.”
Y/N laughed softly, nodding her thanks to Sarah. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, looking down at Harry, whose cheek was now squished adorably against her shoulder. He was humming a tune she couldn’t quite place, the sound low and soothing despite his obvious tipsiness.
Harry’s hand found hers under the table, his fingers clumsily lacing through hers. “Y’ make me the happiest Bambi. ‘M so happy y’ m’ girlfriend.” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred but unmistakably earnest.
Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her heart skipping a beat. “That’s a lot of happy,”
“It is isn’t it?” Harry laughs.
Sarah stood up, grabbing her bag. “Alright, let’s get you two lovebirds home.”
Y/N helped him to his feet. He wobbled slightly, leaning heavily against her. “You’re my favorite person ever, you know that?” he said as they made their way to the exit, his voice loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby tables.
“I think I’m starting to get the idea,” Y/N replied, her tone affectionate as she wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.
“I’m hungry,” he announced loudly. “Can we get chips? Or pizza?”
“Let’s get you home first, superstar,” Mitch said, clapping him on the back and making Harry stumble slightly into Y/N.
“You’re my hero,” Harry murmured dramatically as they shuffled toward the car, his arm draped over her shoulder. “You saved me, Bambi. You’re the best.”
“You’re going to think otherwise when you see how many embarrassing photos Sarah and Alessia probably took tonight,” Y/N quipped, her laughter blending with the others’ as they piled into the car.
“Embarrassing?” Harry blinked at her, his expression mock-serious. “Never. I look good in all lighting.”
Y/N shook her head, letting out a laugh as Harry’s head found her shoulder once more. “We’ll see about that in the morning,” she said, her voice fond.
Harry let out a contented sigh. “You smell so nice,” he murmured sleepily.
Y/N giggled, smoothing her hand over his curls. “You’re ridiculous.”
As the car pulled away from the bar, Harry mumbled something about her being “too good for him” before trailing off into a soft snore. Y/N looked down at him, her heart swelling. Even in his drunken, clumsy state, he had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world.
Once Sarah and Mitch dropped them off right at Harry’s front door, Y/N was left with the daunting task of lugging Harry to his room. He wasn’t exactly helping, his body swaying dramatically as she tried to steady him.
“Harry, you’re not making this easy,” she huffed, half-laughing as he stumbled. By some miracle, she managed to guide him to the bed, where he flopped down—half on the mattress, half on the floor.
“Mission accomplished,” she muttered under her breath, crouching down to untie his laces. But just as she reached for his shoe, he playfully kicked his foot away, his lips curling into a cheeky grin.
“C’mere, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice low and a little slurred.
Y/N stood, brushing off her knees, only to find herself being tugged down onto the bed when he grabbed her wrist. She landed on top of him with a surprised gasp, her hands braced against his chest.
“Harry!” she exclaimed softly, but he didn’t say anything, just looked up at her with those green eyes, hazy but full of something she couldn’t quite describe.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to blur as they gazed at each other, an unspoken connection passing between them. Harry reached up, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The faint smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, but his touch was steady, his expression achingly tender.
“Mean it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You make me the happiest.”
Y/N’s heart twisted at the sincerity in his words, her breath catching in her throat. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You make me the happiest too, Harry.”
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tags: nerd!bang chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, inexperienced chan, experienced reader, kissing, slight corruption kink, kinda toxic relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), face-sitting, exhibitionism lowkey (they’re in a locker room), nicknames (channie, baby, pretty boy), angst kinda?, porn with some plot, etc
wc: 2.06k
add. notes: these previews kilt me. they Kilt Me. therefore i present to u face-sitting with nerd chan. it's not entirely pwp but enjoy anyways :3
nerd!chan pt. 2 / nerd!chan headcannons
. . .
you’re not quite sure how you got here, honestly. one moment, you’re out at cheer practice with your girls, doing complicated stunts and diligently rehearsing the rigorous routines outlined for the upcoming game, all with your coach blowing her whistle every other minute of course. but the next?
you’re in a stuffy locker room making out with the captain of the mathletes team as he pants against your mouth, begging you for more.
it started off with a simple favour— you needed somebody to help you get your grades up after missing one too many classes, and chan was the best in the year; naturally, you asked for his assistance. he’d gone wide in the eyes and red in the face when you’d walked up to him after your shared lecture, leaving you biting back a laugh at the way he stuttered over his words over the prospect of teaching you, even refusing at first. to your fortunate pleasure however, you convinced him to agree in the end, which is how you ended up at your first session in his house, crammed together on his childhood bed and eyeing the walls of his room littered with spelling bee awards and academic medals from various competitions.
somehow down the line of those little sessions, you and chan grew closer, bonding over your shared love for movies and hidden local diners in your city, and the first time you hung out with him outside of the guise of studying at those very local diners, you found yourselves grinding against each other in the backseat of his beatdown car. you still remember the way he fumbled over himself, red ears burning and big doe eyes blinking up at you as you kissed him, albeit awkward with his lack of expertise but still sweet in the way he held you close to him. you suppose that’s where your little ‘sessions’ turned into a special type of studying, and where this charade began to unfold as your dirty secret.
which brings you back to now.
“need.. need you.” chan huffs, pulling away momentarily from messily locking his lips with yours as you breathe heavily against him. you blink for a moment as if processing his words, and a cheeky smile spreads across your face slowly as you take in his disheveled hair and blown out features. “yeah? what do you need, pretty boy?” you tease, trailing a single finger across his pale skin to trace the outline of his collarbone, feeling him shiver under your touch as a low whine escapes his mouth.
“need to taste you.” he mumbles shyly, and you coo at the way he hangs his head low as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, hooking a finger under his chin to get a look at his slightly teary eyes. when they finally make contact with yours, you can’t help but smile softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips that has your insides positively melting.
sometimes you realise that despite his enthusiasm in engaging with you, chan is just a soft-spoken boy. he’s so untouched and pure that it makes you want to absolutely break him, to taint that perfect image he’s put on and quite literally corrupt him to become your toy. amidst that realisation, it also dawns on you that one day he’ll come to terms with the fact that this isn’t what he deserves, that this isn’t how he should be enjoying his firsts with someone who doesn’t even have the nerve to commit to him and how he’ll move on sooner or later to find somebody better that can give him what he wants without needing to hide it. the mere thought of it always leaves your stomach swirling in bitterness and disgust, but you swallow the lump it creates at the back of your throat because those are feelings you’re yet not ready to confront, and for now, if this is what you can have, then this is what you’ll take.
“and how do you want me?” you ask lowly, taking chan’s hand in yours and placing it on your waist, feeling the way he bunches up the fabric of your cheer outfit in his palm. “tell me.” you murmur. “tell me and i’ll give it all to you.”
“want you to sit my face.” he gasps out, hooded eyes staring at you as the words leave his mouth, and suddenly all your self restraint is snapping in half. before you know it, you’re yanking him by the collar of his brown jacket, smashing your lips together once more and swallowing the squeak of surprise that leaves him. the kiss is desperate, and wet, and sloppy, but neither of you care about it or the fact that anyone could walk in and see you both, far too lost in each other to give much of a damn.
“get on the bench.” you demand once you’ve retracted yourself from him, chan’s wide pupils searching yours to see if you’re serious. when you don’t say anything or move, he’s immediately scrambling for his balance and toppling back onto the wooden structure, drawing a small giggle from you that has his insides tightening and jeans straining.
“wait!” he blurts out as you move to hook your fingers into your skirt, swallowing when you raise an eyebrow at him. “keep it on.” he whispers, and you swear your heart stops beating right then and there. you nod slowly after a while in understanding, because that’s all you fear you can manage without actually jumping his bones in that moment.
“lay on your back.” you quietly instruct, and chan eagerly follows like a puppy taking orders from its owner. he yelps when his snapback falls off his head at the angle he’s at, but you’re quick to catch it, pushing it back onto his curls with a wink as you straddle his face. “keep it on.” you mimic his words from earlier, chuckling at the way his cheeks flush pink at your response because by god, he was far too cute for his own good.
“wait a minute,” chan’s eyes widen when he at last focuses his attention on you and gets a glimpse of your drenched core. “were you.. were you not wearing anything under your skirt?” he questions cautiously, nearly choking when you merely shrug. “i like easy access.” a devious smirk journeys across your face when you answer him, and chan has to bite back a moan at the idea of you parading around commando all day. his imagination doesn’t get the chance to run too wild, because by the time he can even register what’s happening, you’re already lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth, groans leaving the two of you at the fact that you’re both finally, finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all day.
“fuck,” chan curses into you, and you hiss at the way his words rumble deep in his chest and travel through your core. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” he breathes out once more, swiping through your folds hysterically as your taste invades his senses. you’re everywhere, in his mind, his mouth, even his soul, especially from the way you begin to slowly rock yourself back and forth on his wet muscle. he swears he might die a happy man today when he feels your thighs smothering him on each side, hands moving up to grip the plush of them before he’s sticking his tongue out and letting you ride it.
“how are you so good at this?” you laugh to yourself in disbelief, biting your lip at the way his nose bumps against your clit perfectly each time he lets you move yourself against him. chan merely grunts in response, too engrossed in eating you out to even answer, and when he pulls you down to suck on your swollen bundle of nerves, you swear you see stars. the only thing heard in the isolated locker room you’re currently going at it in by now are the lewd slurps coming from his mouth along with your whimpers, which only get higher in pitch the more he continues to eat at you.
“so damn good.” chan keens. “so fucking wet, and sweet too.” his words only spur you on further, and before you know it, the telltale signs of your orgasm are creeping up on you. chan shows no signs of stopping though, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises and pulling you impossibly further down on his mouth to the point you feel like you actually might suffocate him. he doesn’t care, of course, he’d die a happy man to be smothered by your perfect cunt.
“channie, baby, wait.” you cry out softly when he envelops your engorged nub in his mouth and laves his tongue over it repeatedly, moaning obscenely against your pussy. “‘m gonna cum if you do that, wait, wait.” chan in fact does not wait, only speeding up his movements and continuing to lick at you until you’re shaking through the familiar waves of pleasure, a silent scream falling from your lips as you spray warm and wet on his tongue. it drips down his chin and your inner thighs, but neither of you care with you buzzing in overstimulation from the way chan continues to suck at you through the shocks, and him with you cumming on his tongue so pretty.
by the time you’re done, he’s still going at it, and it takes you gripping his hair and weakly standing up from his mouth to get chan to finally stop. when you look down at him from your awkward position, the lower half of his face glistens back at you, his plump lips and pretty features wet with your arousal and juices, prompting you to bite back a moan. you swing your leg over and shakily stand, petting your skirt down to get rid of the creases as chan sits up, still looking like he ascended to another dimensional plane. he’s rock hard in his boxers by now, cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to get you to help him out.
“well,” you clear your throat after a moment of silence. “i should get going.” chan’s heart sinks in his chest at your words, and it must show in his expression too because you can’t seem to meet his eyes with the way your gaze stays locked on your twiddling fingers. “they’re probably wondering where i’ve been, so..” you trail off, trying to find a way to excuse yourself despite your mind screaming at you to do otherwise.
“yeah.” chan curses internally at the way his voice cracks. “yeah, you should go.” the sentence comes out more bitter than he intends it to, but he can’t help it. a part of him wants you to feel guilty for just up and leaving without even delving into what this is, what it could mean and become if you just allowed yourself to let it do so, but he’s come to learn that he just can’t expect that from you at this point. so, he doesn’t, instead choosing to wave bye as you sheepishly make your way outside the locker room to the field. once you’re out of sight, he sighs heavily, covering his face with his hands before flopping back down on the bench, his mind racing with thoughts.
because the simple fact is that chan knows. he knows you’re oh so out of his league, and you would’ve been miles away from his reach either way had it not been for the fact that you stopped him one random thursday afternoon to ask if he could help you out in economics 101. and yet, a part of him still longs for you, longs for your presence and the way you bat your eyelashes at him when he scolds you for getting a question wrong. he longs for the way your perfume wafts in his direction when you pass him in the hallways, ignoring his existence like you both weren’t tangled up in each other’s embrace the night before. even though his heart hurts so painfully, even though his friends all say you’re bad for him, even though he knows himself how bad you are for him, he doesn’t care.
for him, it’s always going to be you.
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3
#✰ sunny's oneshots!#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz angst#stray kids angst#bangchan smut#bangchan angst#bangchan x reader#bang chan smut#bang chan x you
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. . . 𝐬𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
► 'Love, love, love, I want your love... you and me could write a bad romance.'
+ Warnings: MDNI/18+ content, smut, kinda slowburn/enemies to lovers, bullying/toxicity, obsession, dom → sub!Gojo, some degradation, namecalling (sl��t), rough s★x, riding his abs, f★ngering, some hatef★cking
+ Tags: @ciggrx
𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?
This is what you've been wondering since you started at this college. It feels surreal, watching how people fawn over 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, how they desperately — desperately — follow after his wake. His hoard of brainwashed admirers make it even harder for you to stand up to him, because they're convinced that he can do no wrong.
𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, so your attempts to retaliate just earn a wide grin from him. He just thinks you're cute, assuming you're flirting with him, so he purrs back "Don't turn me on now." like you've just confessed how much you want to ride him.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬, ridiculing everything you like. Your music taste? "That's so basic." he scoffs, but when he goes home that night he's listening to each and every song that you mentioned, thinking of you.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 voice is always sweetened when he talks to you. No, it's not sweetened for anyone else; his words are so venomous but those saccharine syllables throw you off.
𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, hurrying to his car as soon as morning classes end to jerk off in the backseat. Leaky and twitchy, his cock stands upright with only one thought on its mind and that's to be inside you. He throws his head back while giving himself quick strokes, thinking about all the times you've sassed him back, flirted back. Tightening his jaw, Satoru gets off to the fantasy of you obsessing over him — instead of how it really is.
𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞, openly admitting at parties that he'd "show you heaven" if he had fifteen minutes alone with you. Legs spread wide as he's sat, staring, taking a sip of his drink, Satoru whispers something about you to Suguru — causing his best friend to blush and smack his shoulder, muttering a scornful "Don't talk about girls like that, Satoru."
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲, where Satoru's attention is just plastered all over you. You're late? He's asking people where Miss Bunny is. You walk into the room? He sees you before you see him. You say something? He's straining his ears. You're dressed in a tight dress? He's thinking about peeling it off your body just before he slides into you. Oh, you brought a date with? He's going to mutter some terrible rumor into their ear so that by the end of the night you're all alone, just like he wants.
Once your date is gone, Satoru will make his way over to you, slide into the seat that's too small for two people — he'll press his thigh against yours, leaning over you like he's got no sense of personal space. "All alone? Need me to keep you company?" he grins, looking down at you. It only makes him grin wider when you playfully push his face away, "Have you been kissing girls all night with breath this bad?"
"Don't like the smell of liquor, huh? Then I take it you're not down for... ah never mind." he stops mid-sentence, just to tease you, smirking to himself when he sees your eyes light up with a attention.
𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭, not expecting your reciprocation. The taste of liquor is sharp on his tongue, mixing with the flavor of your mouth — something he's been dying to taste.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 usually the center of attention, but now he's pulling you to the side, tongue exploring your mouth, lips plastered all over you like he's never felt someone better than you. It's just a party, and you're just horny, and he's just there; that's what you're telling yourself as you try to justify why your hands are on his chest.
𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, leading you to the backseat of his car. "I hate you." you murmur against his lips, "Shut up and spread your legs." is all that he responds with before his hand finds its way down to your clothed pussy. He squeezes it, smiling about how small it feels in his palm.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 with you when he pleasures you with his fingers in the backseat of his car, his clit massaging feeling too good, his fingertip perfectly positioned. "You're so pretty." he says in adoration — totally forgetting about who he is as he watches you shiver and moan from the circling of his fingertips around your puffy clit. "Is it too much?" he whispers, easing the pressure, "Oh, you like it? You want more? Okay, pretty girl. I'll give you more. You just lay back and enjoy yourself."
𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, claiming that you imagined it all. You want more and he calls you a 'bitch in heat' with a grin on his face, like he's not the one who stared intently into your eyes while you came all over his fingers that night.
𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 asks Suguru to ask how you're doing, what you're up to — are you're free on the weekend? And Suguru just sighs in compliance, thinking lower and lower of his best friend because god, how pathetically prideful can one man be? "Just text her." he tells him, to which Satoru responds "No way. That would give her the satisfaction of knowing that I'm interested." and here is where Suguru groans, "Oh my God, what dumb games are you two playing with each other? She says she can't tell you she likes you, and you say you can't give her the satisfaction — you're both insane."
Satoru's eyes light up, "She said she likes me?! When was this? Was she joking? Did she look like she was joking? You can tell by the way the left corner of her lip curls. What are you groaning about! This is serious, Suguru! Take me seriously! What else has she said about me? Does she like my hair? Ask her if she likes my hair. And ask her what her favorite ice cream is — is she lactose intolerant? Suguru, don't walk away from me. I need this information and you're my spy. Come on, I'll pay you."
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, needing a cigarette each time he watches the two of you "fight like you're gonna fuck". Each time you storm off, leaving behind a Satoru who's smiling like a jackass and a Suguru who's shaking his head at his best friend, it seems like it's the last time you'll let Satoru ridicule you.
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, asking Suguru where Satoru is. "I thought you said you hated him and never wanted to see him again?" he sighs, "Never mind. He was asking for you too. Yeah, he's in the hall."
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 accuses you of liking his best friend — to which you reassure him that you do not, as if you're his girlfriend. In fact, the argument in the hall goes down like you two are a fighting couple. But of course, while up in your face, Satoru's eyes are on your lips; it's not long before he's crashing onto your lips with a hateful kiss, like he's lost his mind and it's somewhere in your mouth.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 kisses are so hard that the force of them pins you to the wall — and god, he loves your whimpers. Every noise that he elicits out of you causes his lips to spread into a naughty smile; he keeps kissing you through this smile, lips wet and sore.
. . . 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 thrusts are so hard that the force of them makes your thighs and ass jiggle. He feels your hole contract tightly around his cock — and god, he moans like a bitch in heat.
It's so funny, because he accuses you that you moan like a bitch in heat. "Aw, you're so in love with your bully's big cock, aren't you?" he taunts.
The only correct response is a cheeky one; "Says you; you fuck me like you haven't gotten pussy in years." he hears this, then draws out his cock and slams it back in with a force that makes your eyes roll back. He pounds into you harder, hitting spots that all your exes failed to reach, moaning even more pathetically than before.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 babbles when he's close, "You love me, right? Tell me you love me. Please, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard if you say it."
But immediately after, he pretends like he never begged for any of that, and pretends like his cock didn't twitch and throb and spurt cum instantly when he heard you proclaim love for him.
𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐎𝐡, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞. He loves telling you how much he hates your guts while he's deep in them. He loves making a sloppy mess of you as he claims that he hates you and everything you stand for, feeling how sticky and wet you get at his growling voice. He loves how your greedy hole slicks not just his cock but also his abs, which he tauntingly accuses you of perving on.
𝐎𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞, he holds your hips down hard against his stomach and flexes his muscles against your pussy. "Look at that face, you love this don't you?" he grunts, feeling you slide back and forth over him, "I shoulda cum over myself first and let you ride me like that, huh? You'd love feeling my cum all over your pussy, wouldn't you?"
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves cornering you after classes, pressing and grinding his growing erection into your tinier body. "Feel how hard I am — yeah, feel how much I fucking hate you, little slut." he coos against your lips, all up in your face, guiding your hand to his cock.
Of course, you can't even bother resisting the urge to squeeze it, can't even bother hiding how much you want him to ruin you with it. It just makes him grin, seeing you slowly fall apart and heat up after a few minutes of touching.
𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, and he's told you "Don't test me, I'm not afraid to make you an ex. What do you mean we're not dating? Then why do you moan my name on my dick like I'm your man?" and he's crawled back to you, apologizing.
"I didn't mean it, I was just being an asshole for no reason. Come on, will you come tonight? Everyone's going to be there." he pleads you, eyes persuading you as they always do.
Because of course, he can't attend dumb frat parties without you anymore. To quote what he told Suguru, poutingly over the phone, after begging his best friend to help convince you to come; "What's the point of going if she isn't there? The whole purpose of my outfit this year is to scare the shit out of her... and then fuck the shit out of her. Don't you cringe at me, Suguru, it was your idea! No, you weren't joking! Don't play it off now! You literally told me that she has a kink for that — wait a minute, how'd you find out about that... DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME!"
𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧, rubbing his dick into you from behind, claiming that he's gonna "Make you scream just like that" again and again tonight, right here in this bathroom. He makes sure to pronounce his muscles, to flex them, to really remind you how much stronger and taller and bigger he is.
𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝? 𝐍𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝… "It's you who's obsessed with me; just feel how wet you are." he groans, fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside your pussy. He stares into your eyes intensely as you orgasm on his fingers, intently watching how your lips form his favorite 'o' shape.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves your weak holes, loves your expressions, loves how you crawl back to him for more even though he treats you so bad sometimes.
His nastiness turns you on but at some point, you think enough is enough; you turn the tables on him.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, because the girl he's obsessed with isn't obsessed with him anymore. He nags you to go on a date with him, he softens his eyes, holds you more gently — "Stop ignoring me." he whines like a child.
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 to beg you to go out with him, to kiss him just one more time, to come back to his bed, to sit on his face, "I can prove to you that heaven's on my tongue. What? No, no. I didn't mean all of that. I know I was a jerk to you back then, but please, just give me another chance."
𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, following after your shadow. But now he's the one at your mercy; you lead him by the hand upstairs to empty rooms during those dumb frat parties, and you ride him until he whimpers like a bitch in heat. "Close already? It's only been fifteen minutes, Satoru. What happened to your stamina?" you taunt him, "Keep it together."
Now riding Satoru pulls the most pathetic sounds out of his pretty lips. His sensitive cock twitches and jumps at just the sight of you, of course it's throbbing and bursting with cum within ten minutes. Sometimes less. And what does he babble as he's about to cum? "Please don't stop." in the most pathetic tone of voice.
𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨���𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, grovels at your feet, mumbles in agreement to the things you want to do. He's just caved in, totally given up on acting tough and mean, given up on pretending that he hates everything you like — he wonders to himself, why did he waste so much time being an asshole? He could have just sat there, like he is now, listening to you yap with hearts in his eyes.
𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, "𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲"!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 totally smitten, desperate for your attention. Suguru's always commenting on how you've changed him for the better, while Satoru denies having changed at all.
But let his actions speak for his change. He's always cancelling those dumb frat parties to make plans with you. You want to see this new fancy restaurant? Hold on, he's got to buy you a glittery dress for the occasion. What if we went to the seaside? That's not overly romantic, is it? Ring shopping? Relax, he's just a college student, he's not going to propose to you. Buying a diamond ring is just a personal investment for his future.
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
#tw: smut#tw: bullying#tw: degradation#smut#gojo x reader#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#smut with fluff
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it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.
everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed.
once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.
“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy.
“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?”
“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”
he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.
"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.
then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him.
he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again.
you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.
"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.
"nothing."
"you gonna do this right now?"
"do what?"
"just show me what you want."
"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"
before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.
"yeah? other boyfriend?"
"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.
“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.
“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.
“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”
he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.
later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.
he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.
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