#i HATE that i almost ALWAYS think of a better way to word whatever i said literally SECONDS after speaking
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⸻ ɪ ɴ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴅ ᴀ ʀ ᴋ ⸻
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem Reader
Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?
Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
Bruce Wayne is a man shaped by tragedy, a billionaire with an iron will and an unrelenting sense of justice. But beneath the stoic façade lies a broken soul. When Bruce becomes obsessed, it isn’t violent outbursts or chaotic behavior—it’s cold, calculated, and methodical. He doesn’t lose himself to obsession; he leans into it, weaponizing his resources and intelligence to keep you close. After all, what is Batman if not a man who cannot let go?
Maybe you’re someone he met at a gala—a rare individual who caught his attention without trying. Maybe you’re an employee at Wayne Enterprises, someone who treated him like a person rather than the playboy billionaire. Or maybe you stumbled into Gotham’s darker corners, and he saved you as Batman. Whatever the case, Bruce finds himself drawn to you in a way he hasn’t been to anyone else in years.
At first, he tells himself it’s curiosity. You’re intriguing, sure, but nothing more. Yet he can’t stop thinking about you. Every word you said, every look you gave him, replays in his mind like a song stuck on repeat. And Bruce, has to understand why.
Bruce doesn’t approach you immediately; instead, he observes. He justifies it as caution. After all, he’s Batman—he needs to know everything about you to protect you.
He learns everything there is to know: your name, your routines, your friends, your secrets. He watches you through security cameras, listens to your conversations through bugs he discreetly plants, and even monitors your online activity.
But to Bruce, this isn’t invasive—it’s necessary. How else can he ensure your safety in a city as dangerous as Gotham?
As Bruce Wayne, he’s charming, attentive, and subtly magnetic. He uses his wealth and influence to insert himself into your life. Invitations to exclusive events? Job offers at Wayne Enterprises? He makes it impossible for you to say no without coming across as ungrateful.
As Batman, he’s your silent protector, always one step ahead. If you’re ever in trouble, he’s there—appearing out of the shadows to save you. He doesn’t speak much when he’s Batman, but the way his gaze lingers on you feels almost suffocating.
You’d never suspect that the billionaire who’s so eager to help you and the vigilante who seems to always be around are one and the same.
Bruce’s obsession manifests in his need for control. He doesn’t see himself as possessive—he sees himself as protective. You don’t need to worry about toxic friends, late-night walks, or bad decisions because Bruce will take care of everything.
If someone gets too close to you, Bruce doesn’t lose his temper. Instead, he uses his resources to quietly remove them from your life. A coworker who flirts too much? Suddenly transferred. A friend who badmouths Bruce? Their secrets mysteriously come to light.
“It’s for your own good,” he tells himself. After all, Bruce believes he knows what’s best for you better than you do.
Bruce is painfully self-aware. He knows his feelings for you aren’t healthy, and he hates himself for it. But his guilt doesn’t stop him; it fuels him. He rationalizes his actions by convincing himself that you’re safer with him watching over you.
“I’ve already lost so much,” he whispers to himself late at night in the Batcave, your face flickering on the monitor in front of him. “I can’t lose her too.”
In his mind, his obsession is just another sacrifice he makes for the people he loves. He can bear the weight of being a monster as long as it means keeping you safe.
Bruce rarely shows his jealousy outright—it’s subtle, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. If you mention another man, his jaw tightens imperceptibly. If someone touches you, his eyes darken, and his hand lingers a little too long on your shoulder as he pulls you away.
Behind the scenes, though, he’s ruthless. The man who asked for your number? He’ll find himself the target of a police investigation. That friend who keeps trying to set you up on dates? Suddenly, they’re avoiding you without explanation.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he says when you start to notice how people in your life seem to vanish. “Gotham is dangerous. You can never be too careful.”
Bruce’s obsession remains controlled until you try to distance yourself. Maybe you’ve started to feel smothered, or maybe you’ve realized that the people disappearing from your life aren’t coincidences. When you confront him—whether as Bruce or Batman—he’s calm, almost unnervingly so.
“I only want what’s best for you,” he says, his voice steady. “Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in without me?”
If you try to leave, that calm facade shatters. He won’t hurt you—never you—but he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you stay. He’ll cut off your options, isolate you, and remind you that no one else can protect you the way he can.
“You think you’re safer without me?” he says, his voice laced with desperation and anger. “You’re wrong. Gotham will chew you up and spit you out. I’m the only thing standing between you and harm.”
Despite his obsession, Bruce’s love for you is genuine in its own twisted way. He wants you to be happy, even if he doesn’t understand that his actions are suffocating you.
There are moments when the mask slips—when Bruce is just a broken man trying to hold onto the one good thing in his life. Late at night, he’ll hold you close, his voice trembling as he whispers, “You’re everything to me. I can’t lose you. Not after everything I’ve already lost.”
In those moments, it’s hard to tell where Bruce Wayne ends and Batman begins. To him, they’re both the same—a man who would do anything to protect the one person he can’t live without.
@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.
#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#yandere bruce wayne#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#dark bruce wayne#bruce wayne x you#yandere batman#yandere batman x reader#batman x reader#batman#batman x you#yandere dc#yandere dc x reader#dc x reader#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x fem!reader
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#🐉#i HATE that i almost ALWAYS think of a better way to word whatever i said literally SECONDS after speaking#this is the one thing i prefer about text based communication to verbal#because i can preview what i want to say and decide if i like how it sounds before i contribute to the conversation#emeto mention
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im not gonna say you cant use the n word w a hard r on a almost fully anonymous tumblr account where you claim to be black-
I will say that it makes you 100% more suspicious and worth keeping an eye out on you bc usually its neo nazis pretending to be black that spam saying the n word w an r and use tumblrs weird trust for almost fully anonymous accounts to their advantage to get away w it
you can say it, but, if you Are a neo nazi pretending to be black, I will say, you're not doing a good job of convincing me rn that you actually are.
#got too excited you could get away w saying it ey?#inb4 'PeOpLe aLwAyS DeMaNd yOu GiVe YoUr LiFe sToRy-' bs- babe--- i wouldn't have cared or even noticed or even remarked on it#if you said it w an a. its more believable at least. lmao.#and I say bs bc ik its likely a neo nazi and ik they know that we say that a lot on tumblr- that ppl dont owe u every detail of their life#- and ik a neo nazis one of the least trustworthy people in the world so ofc they would abuse that line to get away w saying the n word#w a hard r around a bunch of progressives who have so little info about you that they dont know if they get the right to feel uncomfortable#when you say it- but personally im not built like that and i will tell you rn im uncomfortable w you saying it and idc what excuse you give#doesnt mean you hafta do whatever i say. just means I actually take a stance on shit unlike a lot of easily manipulated tumblr users.#i mean come on. its a neo nazis wet dream to run around a progressive (well. given recent events- supposedly progressive) space#and say slurs unchecked by said progressives. its one of their favorite ways of having you shut up. even if it is all done in secrecy#like the cowardly bitch made bitch built bitches they are. theyd never do it off anon or with their face exposed.#they simply cant take the heat. so the only way this type of person can feel like they've won is when they do manipulative shit like this i#secret. which is just so so sad. this is how ik the nazis are gonna lose. you're too much of a cowardly bitch to say it in front of#progressives with your whole chest.#why're you so scared? afraid you might be outnumbered? afraid you might not win as many ppl over as you think you will?#i mean cmon nows the perfect time to take the mask off right? perfect time to radicalize leftists? surely there shouldnt be#an issue waving your red flag huh? come on now. dont be shy. why are you scared? afraid you might reveal to the leftists you're#trying to indoctrinate that you're actually a hateful pos? and that you've been manipulating them to hate jewish ppl?#nah you're right joshua tyler stevenson it's probably a better idea to hide in the shadows like a bitch.#you're black on the notoriously white website? yeah. ok#i mean im sure theres just so many black ppl just dying to be here. thats why most black ppl ik hate this site 😒 for sure dawg i believe u#i mean ig if there were ever a place for a black nationalist to roam unchecked it'd be here though... generally they stick to twitter ime#its just hard to believe when I seldom see black ppl on here to begin w and most of the ones I do see are just like. normal people#w/o weird fucked beliefs. and if you are black- i think its really interesting that the black ppl with black nationalist beliefs almost#never show their faces in any capacity ever while other normal black ppl do. what are you scared of? afraid ppl irl will recognize u#and laugh?? or is it that... you're not actually a black person......... so far professor flowers is the only internet black nationalist#who's dared to show their face that ik of.
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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?
warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it
word count: 10.9K (whoops)
note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3
jjk masterlist
never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything.
you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights.
his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to.
and he seems to despise you.
you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore.
he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you.
but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back.
you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three.
but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed.
he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything.
after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up.
and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you.
ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans.
you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him.
not that it mattered now.
all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.
you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip.
whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.
any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry.
he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away.
you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else.
“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left.
it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer.
sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up.
for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity.
but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from.
“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples.
“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone.
you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged.
he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies.
he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle.
it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak.
“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife.
if only you knew.
“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long.
you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say.
“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you.
“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it.
“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features.
and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show.
“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk).
he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.
“just tell them the truth.”
the truth.
tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up.
tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were.
tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms.
tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms.
tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position.
you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.
“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.”
you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.
the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind.
you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy.
“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him.
you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position.
but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.
“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door.
“i don’t-”
“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway.
you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself.
---
the feast of clans came earlier than you expected.
you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered.
you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury.
“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.
“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.”
he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside.
“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating.
you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen.
“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate.
“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such?
“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”
gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you.
“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement.
“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”
the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away.
you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking.
“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless.
gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite.
“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic.
“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”
“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.”
you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind.
a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.
“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”
“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly.
“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this.
“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”
your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.
“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it.
“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you.
you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around.
“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile.
“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response.
“if you want to hide, i’ll-”
“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!”
a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.
“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.”
you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families.
“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch.
“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other.
“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh.
“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you.
his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature.
“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded.
you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance.
you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl.
she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions.
she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls.
you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat.
you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you.
you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.
---
gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him.
“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress.
“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down.
you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead.
so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other.
once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo.
you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased.
though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation.
“what you saw last night-”
“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.”
“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either.
“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables.
“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words.
“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.”
you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it.
you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck.
leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you.
you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so.
it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him.
“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door.
your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else.
“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door.
you didn’t answer, still, waiting.
“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door.
“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit.
you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table.
“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.
a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing.
---
gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day.
it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy.
you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time.
when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned.
“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down.
“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks.
“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet.
“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you.
your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis.
you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.
sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders.
myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing.
until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window.
“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.
his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw.
he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance.
“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her.
the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had.
“are you alright?”
you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being.
he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either.
“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly.
“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you.
“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.”
“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you.
“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.”
“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable.
“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”
you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three.
“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure.
“you are my wife-”
“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.
gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back.
“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man.
“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.
he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint.
he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks.
“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.”
you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self.
“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you.
“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself.
“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint.
he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw.
“what do you mean?”
you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin.
“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”
“letters? what letters?”
you glance at him, taking in his shaking form.
“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”
his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing.
“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.”
the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement.
“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks.
“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.”
you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words.
“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you.
“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations.
“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face, twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-”
“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull.
“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-”
“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.”
you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones.
“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago.
“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.”
a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it.
“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face.
“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself.
“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.”
he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters.
you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided.
it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours.
it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined.
“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love.
“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness.
he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you.
“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder.
“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again.
“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin.
“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name.
“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could.
“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them.
“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did.
“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one.
“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours.
“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago.
“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it.
“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.
“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”
“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips.
you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move.
his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give.
your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch.
“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds.
“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin.
“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face.
his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.
“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him.
“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down.
he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this.
but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you.
you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.
he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.
he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most.
“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.”
he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye.
his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck.
it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be.
his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall.
“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response.
“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more.
his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more.
he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit.
“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision.
you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo.
“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.
“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt.
you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over.
when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces.
he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest.
“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?”
he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you.
“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.”
you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you.
“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that.
“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.
“and then?”
your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face.
“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs.
“and then?”
“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.”
“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking.
“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain.
“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves.
“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.
#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x you#gojo x you smut#gojo x reader angst#gojo x you angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader fluff#gojou x reader
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he finds you crying ft. love and deepspace men
ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel, and sylus a/n: I always feel like mc wasn’t given enough time to grief when chapter 4 happened (or maybe they just didn’t show it or i remember it wrong) but to lose the people you’ve considered family like that in front of your eyes would severely mess on anyone’s mental well-being. mc stronger than me fr i would've had a breakdown every night. so i tried to write the comfort that was long overdue. <3
Zayne
He found you hunched over at the couch, knees tucked to your chest. your shoulder shook as he heard the sniffles and although he’s physically perfectly fine, he swore it felt like his heart was breaking in two.
He would gently put his key on the table, making his presence known in the subtlest way possible so you didn’t get startled.
You quickly tried to wipe your eyes and sat normally but suddenly in no time you were carried as he made you sit on his lap, bringing your head close to his neck as he held you tight.
Zayne wasn’t one who’s great at offering consoling words, as he also a firm believer of actions speak louder than words. As he rubbed your back gently he only said, “Let it all out, I’m here.”
So you did just that. You’ve said this once to him as a joke, but truly, anywhere by his side was the time you felt the most safe.
The doctor continued to comfort you in silence, hoping with every beat of his heart that his arms and hands that’s so used in saving people’s lives, could offer at least some kind of solace for your heart that was in disarray.
Xavier
He’d never hated the sight of a bed so much, until he found you crying atop of it.
Xavier would rushes over to you (arguably faster when he encountered strayed wanderers), determined to do anything he could to help you feel better.
As he put a hand over your cheek, wiping the tears that just kept on coming he whispered, “I’m here, what do you need?”
When you couldn’t even manage a reply Xavier would just stay by your side, his and was diligent in rubbing the side of your face; he never felt so useless, knowing the little gesture gave almost to none help.
For someone who finds sleep easy inbetween every hours, that was the most restless he’s ever been. He stayed with you until you calmed down, offering gentle whispers as you felt your awake state slipping away.
The moment you’re asleep Xavier was keen on wiping your face softly off of the remaining tears, and he tucked you in properly. He brought you to his embrace.
Yet unlike any other nights, he couldn’t find any part of him that was able to join you into the dream state.
Rafayel
Rafayel knew he came at a bad time. Seeing the way you spoke so stiffly and the way you zoned out of the conversation every few minutes.
However, he also knew he couldn’t leave you alone right then.
The silence once again was loud, but he didn’t think you realize that, as he followed your stare to the table, to what’s on the top of the table to be exact. A necklace with an apple charm on it.
He approached your side, cupping your face with both of his hands. “Miss bodyguard, you don’t have to be strong all the time, you know? Especially now, since you’re off duty.”
You chuckled quietly, but what followed after was not your usual easy smile but instead it was tears streaming down your face. And it felt like Rafayel could offer anything he had just to make them stop. And if that’s not enough, he swore to give you twice or thrice of what he had, it didn’t matter if he was to be in debt.
He held you tight, the sight of you crying was enough to make tears made their way to his eyes as well. And it pained him, knowing the best he could do in that moment was only to hold you tighter, as he wished that he could mend whatever broken part you had with one of his.
Sylus
He didn’t even flinch when you climbed on his lap, your usual talkativeness was nowhere to be found.
You rested your head on his shoulder and within seconds he knew that your emotions were in chaos, and if you thought you could find comfort in him, then he was more than happy to be there for you.
“Let me stay like here for a while,” you said weakly, voice all tense and anxious.
He brought a palm to your back, “By all means, darling. You didn’t think I was going to turn you away, did you?”
You stayed quiet, trying your best to get your emotions in order but it just seemed impossible. Sylus then sigh at your another attempt to pretend once again that you’re okay. “Cry if you need. Tears were never a sign of weakness, it just proves that you’re human.”
His rigid sentence somehow brought a strange sense of comfort for you, making your tears escape freely.
Sylus’ fingers felt fleeting on your back, like a touch that could slip away anytime. But he made sure none of that will happen as he stroke your hair gently over and over.
Was he worried of you? Absolutely. Yet he believed with all of his entire being that you that has fallen apart that day, would have no time standing back up again on the next day.
If there’s anything he learnt about you during your time with him, is that you’re a stranger to giving up.
#lads x reader#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#zayne x you#lnds x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#love and deepspace#lads angst#lads fluff
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HARD DICK...or three
Summary: Draco, Theo and Mattheo have always been Y/n's best friends, but when she realizes that the reason her relationships don't last long are them, the conversation takes a funny turn involving three boys with hard cocks.
Warnings: English is not my first language, a lot of intimacy between the boys and the reader.
---
There were people who were lucky in their careers, financial life, academics, and even love life. You were a lucky person but hated to admit that the hardest part for you was always your unluckiest part. Boyfriends were never easy for you, and staying stable with them was even harder. You never considered if the reason none of them lasted or were worthwhile was your fault—your poor choices, or the lack of character in all three serious relationships you had over the past few years. You never questioned it until last night. Dave Franco was your boyfriend for a year and a half, and last night he had a jealous outburst in the middle of a Hufflepuff party. You swore you heard him repeat the same words more than three times, “shitty friends,” “are you sure you didn’t have a threesome?” “They want to fuck you!” You were drunk and getting upset with his words until you realized that maybe your friends were much more intimidating to your boyfriends or flings than you had noticed. So you concluded that no, you were not the problem; they were…
— Alright, Our sleeping beauty has already missed the first classes.
Theodore's voice spread through the silent room along with the rustling of the comforter beside you as he occupied the space next to you.
— If you miss lunch, Snape will punish you until next year.
Mattheo said, pulling the blanket off your body, exposing your figure dressed only in navy blue lingerie that hugged your curves.
— And that means if you want to graduate this year, you better get out of this room.
Draco said, casting his eyes over you as you groaned into your pillow and shook your head in denial.
— Fuck off.
You whimpered, feeling your body shiver from the cold due to the lack of a blanket. Normally, you wouldn't be so exposed in front of your male friends, but Dave had broken up with you, so you didn't care at all if the three saw your butt, breasts, or whatever—it wasn't anything more than they had grown up seeing.
— What the hell happened to you? You didn’t even drink that much last night.
Theo said, and immediately you turned to look at him with a pout on your lips.
— Dave, he broke up with me.
You muttered, sitting up quickly.
— And it's your fault, so one of you owes me some affection.
As soon as you said that, your legs wrapped around Nott's waist, who smiled mischievously at Malfoy and Riddle, who were standing at the foot of the bed, watching you almost naked, snuggling into Theodore’s lap. It wasn’t a secret that you were obviously the dream of the three boys, and the fact that you grew up together gave them enough freedom to act like that among themselves.
— What do you mean?
Theodore asked, wrapping his arms around you.
— Yeah, he broke up with you because we’re your friends? Was he afraid of getting punched if he broke your heart or what?
Mattheo mocked Dave, and Draco laughed beside him and continued:
— Man, I think he's gay; there's no way he broke up with you because of us.
— No, he thinks we fucked or something. I don't know how many times I heard the word threesome or that you guys wanted to fuck me last night. Man, it was like torture.
You groaned, getting off Nott's lap and out of the bed, walking towards the mirror. You looked at yourself and sighed, rolling your eyes.
— The guy broke up with you because he thinks we want to fuck you?
Theodore laughed, and you gave him the middle finger while fixing your hair.
— Honestly, he's more insecure than my grandfather. Merlin, how did you stand him?
Draco laughed as Mattheo approached you and hugged you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder.
— Oh yeah, Draco’s grandfather probably fucks his grandmother more than that loser Dave fucked you. Am I wrong?
Mattheo said with a mischievous smile directed at you through the mirror's reflection, causing you to laugh and shake your head.
— Ew, I don't want to think about Malfoy's grandparents having sex.
Theodore grunted, getting out of bed.
— Yeah, whatever, but the point here is that you all can hug her, and I can't? Get your claws off her, Riddle.
Draco grumbled, unhappy with your position, receiving an irritating smile from Mattheo, who let you go and allowed you to go to Draco with a gentle smile.
— Ah, he's a baby, guys.
You said, and Draco glared at you with a scowl.
— Shut up…
Draco grumbled, pulling you by the waist and throwing you on the bed with him on top.
— I’ll put a baby in you if you keep that up.
— See, that’s why my relationships don’t last.
You said, throwing your head back and pushing Draco off you to fall beside you on the bed.
— Nah, this is bullshit because we don’t do this with you when you’re dating.
Theodore said, sitting next to where your head was lying, as did Mattheo on the opposite side.
— I don’t know; maybe I’m just a terrible girlfriend and act the wrong way.
You murmured, frustrated, turning onto your stomach to hide your face in a pillow.
— Y/n, princess, stop blaming yourself for the idiot’s idiotic choice.
Draco shrugged while leaning his back against the bed's headboard and throwing another pillow at your now exposed butt.
— You hardly even come near us when you’re dating. I can’t remember the last time I hugged you besides today.
Mattheo made a mocking expression, thinking David was making false accusations about you.
— You are the most loyal person in Hogwarts, and everyone knows it. If your boyfriends are all insecure enough not to handle being with you because of us, it’s simple—they don’t deserve you, dolcezza.
— Really?
You asked, and as confirmation, you received three murmurs of agreement. Propping your elbows on the mattress, your gaze changed to a curious look that was noticed by Nott and Riddle.
— Hmm, do you guys want to?
You asked another question, and this time the boys’ faces on your bed were genuinely confused.
— What?
Mattheo questioned your question, and you laughed, laying your head on Theo’s lap, who had lit a cigarette. With a look, Nott understood; he brought the cigarette to you, and with a wild smile, he answered Mattheo and asked you.
— Fuck you?
— Uh-huh.
You agreed, hearing Draco laugh while accepting the cigarette from Theo.
— Everyone wants to fuck you, princess.
— Right, but I’m not talking about everyone; I’m talking about you guys.
You said impatiently, sitting on your heels to look at the three on your bed, staring at you without saying a word.
— Come on, I’m curious.
— You don’t understand, do you?
Mattheo, with his dark eyes and a sly smile, leaned closer to your neck.
— Don’t understand what?
— You can’t ask if we’d fuck you when you’re dressed like that, darling.
Mattheo murmured, and you heard Theo and Draco’s nasal laughter as they moved on the bed.
— Okay, so that would be a yes?
You asked.
— Hell yeah.
Theo agreed, bringing the cigarette back to his plump lips and then to yours.
Your smile grew with each passing minute of silence in the room. The three of them were eyeing you as if you were gold, and you couldn’t measure how much that amused you.
— What?
You asked, feigning innocence as if you hadn’t seen the bulges growing in the pants of the three there.
— Alright, I’ll get changed so we can meet Pansy and Daphne. Wait for me a second.
With that, you got up from the bed and heard a groan from Draco.
— Seriously? I’m hard as fuck, damn it.
Malfoy groaned again, and the four of you laughed.
— You’re evil.
Theo sighed, and you turned to look at them with a pained face.
— I think my dick is going to break, it’s so hard right now.
Mattheo said, throwing himself on the bed before looking at you at the bathroom door with a huge smile.
— Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t do anything.
You said innocently, and Mattheo snorted.
— How am I supposed to continue the day like this?
— I don’t know, jerk off together, think of Malfoy's grandparents fucking.
You laughed again, and their scowls grew bigger.
— I swear you’ll pay for this, dolcezza.
Was the last thing you heard besides groans before you left to change for afternoon classes.
---
I hope you enjoy this
And if you want to read some dirty shit here:
#harry potter x reader#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott angst#lorenzo zurzolo#theodore nott fluff#harry potter#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x you#theo fluff#mattheo x you#mattheo smut#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle#mattheoxreader#benjamin wadsworth#draco malfoy#draco lucius malfoy#draco x reader
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DAY 30 — hate sex
kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — wriothesley, ayato, scaramouche, alhaitham
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, hate fucking, mild choking, they're assholes, exhibitionism, fingering, lots of teasing & they're meanies
𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY
"i don't, fuck— even know if i told you this," you whine out through a clenched jaw, your trembling frame luxuriating in the feeling of wriothesley's thick cock rubbing against your spongy spots as the spreading warmth of his body fuses inside of your own.
nevertheless, you continue your taunting— truthfully, there was nothing better other than uttering out words that you knew, would drive him absolutely crazy, "but i really fucking hate you."
amusement swiftly settles on the duke's face when he notices something happening in front of his eyes, in spite of himself, he can see it plain as day.
that your sweet, angel face, combined with those lewd sounds and your pain in the ass, as well as bratty attitude, would ultimately make him lose his mind beyond salivation— right now, his face reminded of someone who was on the brink of leaning into this, the thought of stepping your relationship up and breaking free of this, occasional hook up scene between two people clearly harboring distaste for each other.
yet, instead of melting into those hidden emotions, wriothesley then, leaves one hand to fall against the headboard before jerking his hips back into you, this time much harder and in attempt to conceal the fact that you've evidently turned him on with your attitude, fuck, he'd never get tired of hearing you.
"oh, don't worry sweetheart," wriothesley grins, your body trembling when you hear him, and as always, he senses how you shiver under his large weight, your chest rising and falling when he wraps one hand around your throat, lightly, while the other remained on the headboard to steady himself and to not suddenly suffocate you with his figure.
"the feeling is very mutual," he winks, the only thing that seemed appropriate to you personally in this situation, was to punch him, especially due to that stupid, handsome, dumb smirk on his face. (you didn't punch him)
"oh fuck you," you spat angrily before feeling how he softly draws his fingers into your throat, mesmerized when you swallow the assembled saliva down and make him sense your pulse underneath his palm, ugh, it's so hot— and you're impossibly sensitive, constantly fluttering your hole around his girth, always so cutely reactive and moaning when his cock twitches through your walls.
your mess of a body was shaking, quivering and jerking up when he teases you once more, proudly showcasing his strength on your throat while never stopping the aching drags of his erection that was making your face twist in pleasure.
𖧡 — AYATO
ayato thinks you owe him, in fact, he believes you owe him a lot more than you're currently giving him— aside from that, the most unfortunate fact was that he secretly liked having you close to him, pretending that it's a way of paying him back for whatever reason, more so share your sweet company and yes, of course, it's a bit of a predicament taking into consideration that he literally cannot stand your guts and neither can you force yourself to like his.
it's a bit embarrassing and you're barely being able to grasp on how much you you were capable to hate another person, yet the second you hear his voice, it's a horrible sound, one that you eagerly wanted to choke right out of him.
well, if only ayato wouldn't be so adapt with your body— remembering every part of you, didn't matter to him if it's been a week or a month, he remembers and targets the spots he knew had to be taken care of.
because the yashiro commissioner knows how to fuck you, please you and make you sob out uncontrollably— you have clearly had the opportunity to experience it yourself and even now, while pressed down against his work desk, with both legs tightly shut around his waist, you almost forget about all the deep-rooted hatred that was growing inside of your heart.
every dip and curve, his hand would find when he drags his cock through your walls with each whimper of his name littering across his ear shells, his sensitive tip repeatedly pushing in and out of your soaked walls that the constant pressure of penetration was making your head spin, your shaking frame twitching under him as he curves ever so wonderfully into your warm cunt.
it's too good, too delicious to pass up on when you forget all circumstances and focus on the hate induced thrusts of his pelvis rutting against yours— both minds being drunk of lust and that sensual taste of sex and euphoria lingering across the room, your pussy convulsing as his lips melt against your own, shushing all your worries.
𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE
"look at that," scaramouche grinned down on you, excited from head to toe, his ego downright overflowing when his tip pushes and presses into your warm, pulsing spots as he stares down on where your bodies connected.
his cock was slipping in an embarrassingly easy pace that it's quite shameful now that you think back on it, well, almost— at least scaramouche knew what places to target in order to make your spine curve and quiver when he leans his weight over your body to split your cunt a little better as he bucks backward, driving the intruding force of his length deeper with one hand steady on your shoulder.
you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a warm, passionate kiss before he sloppily groans into your mouth, his tongue lapping across your own when repeated thrusts power through the tight ring of your hole, his pelvis continuously kicking against you and forcing your spine to bend into his chest, "hah, i can barely move," he smirks, "you're too tight— embarrassing," he drawls, your walls fluttering as he leans his sweaty forehead over your own.
"seems like you missed me," scaramouche urges, hovering on top of you with a toothy smile, despite that leaning in for more, his fastened breathing close to your flustered cheeks as he grinds his cock deeper, finer and better— a small, little shade of pink manifesting across his face, everything about it was so sensual, so exposed.
without a doubt, whenever you would cross paths it would always end in the same story playing on repeat, almost like a broken record— and despite the fact that you weren't fond of him, or, scrap that, despite the fact that you hated him, a lot, you did like it, like him, kind of— most definitely when he fucks you like he hates you, because he does, but kisses you like you're in possession of the most delicious and softest lips.
or, digging a little deeper, when he, sometimes, wraps his arm around your waist when he accidentally falls asleep right beside you, hiding his fatigued face against your neck, leaning into your touch as he intertwines one hand with yours to stroke his thumb over your knuckles.
𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
it's a hard punch in your gut when alhaitham first stated that he didn't like you, nope, wasn't a fan of yours at all— and the way he phrased it infuriated you the most, it was so arrogant, detached and almost like he wanted you to know and feel bad.
it's not like you were forcing him to like you or anything, but the fact that he thought it was appropriate to tell you out of the blue while disregarding any negative emotions such confession could cause— to say it made you loathe him, detest his being with every vein in your body, was an understatement, truly.
but now, suddenly it's anomalous, like the first bite out of a warm home-made pastry you have never tried before.
then, a sudden wave of pleasure hits you, strong enough that you whimper when he first places both hands on your figure, when you find yourself pressed against a cold wall, a new sensation that was laced in thrill and excitement lusting up from deep inside, aflame and alive through your flesh like liquid fire in your veins.
your bodies were moving while concealed beneath the darkness with the scribe's hand long since stored under your panties and rubbing slow, precise circles on your clit— and the thought of doing something so sinful in the midst of the night, not to mention outside, was almost enough to turn you on entirely, drench his palm with your slick when the boiling heat inside of you changes its shape, manifesting into something exceptional.
"that— that doesn't change anything!" you argue, scowling as you lean your head against his chest, "you're still a snob."
"huh, what?" alhaitham huffs in between a relatively normal breathing, as if he didn't just fuck two fingers into your hole and was the single reason for your legs turning to jelly, wantonly destroying your stability, "i think you don't know what that word means," he mutters before rolling his eyes at you.
archons, you're so annoying, alhaitham could honestly tell you those exact words over and over again until he'd get a headache— and it fucks him up, you do, you never fail to irritate him but also make him intrigued. ugh, it fucks him up so dearly and you destroy his rational thoughts, he wanted to do nothing more other than distance himself from you if only you wouldn't be so damn addicting, and soft, or reactive when he prods one finger against your hole.
awakening at the touch, your desire for him flares anew as you buck your hips forward, driving his finger deeper, his digit spilling right into you when you greet him with a broken cry, your hips rolling and needful for more— alhaitham's eyes never averting their gaze from you, your hips searching and clinging on his body, a slight tremble reaching your spine when you hold your gaze on him, all now feeling in different way.
©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#ayato smut#ayato x reader#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham smut#genshin x you#kinktober#genshin impact x you#genshin drabbles
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not a chance + lando norris (one shot)
In which Lando thinks he's going to win a race, to which you tell him the chances of you two fucking are as low as him winning a race - so what happens when he wins?
lando norris x fem!sainz reader tw: smut + not proof read (as usual)
masterlist - playlist
“I think this is going to be my day,” Lando tells your brother, Carlos, with a confident tone in his voice. “Maybe I’ll actually win today.”
You can’t help yourself and let out a soft laugh. “As if,” you mutter softly. You don’t expect anyone to pay attention to you, let alone hear your comment, but while looking at Lando you’re quick to realize that he did hear you. He is sending you an annoyed glare, while Carlos tries to tell you without words that you should shut up. Bit too late for that now.
“Don’t believe me babygirl?” Lando asks you. The earlier confidence in his voice has disappeared and made place for a sarcastic tone, one Lando only uses with you. “Nope,” you say, making sure that you’re popping the p.
“I’m not doing this again,” Carlos sighs while looking at his little sister and one of his best friends. Lando and you both know what he’s talking about, but neither of you is backing away. Lando is even getting closer towards you. “I’ll see you later,” Carlos continues, “hopefully after the two of you finally fixed the fucking sexual tension between you two.”
It’s not a secret that Lando and you don’t like each other. You don’t know how it happened, where you were once almost as close with him as Carlos, things changed between you two. Friendly conversations changed into sarcastic, mean remarks meant to hurt to other one. Meeting up when Carlos couldn’t join changed into only seeing each other when Carlos dragged the both of you in the same place. Always texting with each other, sending memes towards each other eventually changed into ignoring each other on every social platform.
Whatever happened to cause the change between Lando and you, has never been clear to you. Sometimes you blame yourself for taking a bit more distance when Lando got his first girlfriend, but eventually it was Lando who really changed his attitude towards you. Sometimes you miss how it was before, or better said every time you see Lando you miss how it was before. Even if you were fighting your feelings for him, it was better then acting like you hate him. Of course you don’t hate Lando, how could you - especially after crushing on him for the longest time.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, you look at the text that’s coming in. It’s from Carlos. When you’re done toying with Lando, I’m at Ferrari. Saved you a seat. You should go to him now, that would be the smart thing to do. But Lando is still standing closely in front of you. Carlos believes that something else is going on between Lando and you, something that’s according to him caused by romantic feelings, but according to you that’s bullshit. Your crush on Lando doesn’t exist anymore, right?
“Funny to see the girl who believed in you the most turn into one of your biggest haters,” Lando mutters annoyed. He truly feels betrayed by the way you’re talking about him and the upcoming race. He means his earlier words. Sometimes he wonders how things would be between you two if he did some things different. A lot changed when he was dating his ex girlfriend, changes he can’t undo but he wants to fix them. If you’ll let him.
“Not a hater,” you reply, “just a realist.”
“Just watch me babygirl,” Lando says, “I’ll show you.”
“No thanks.”
“And after the podium I’ll find you and show you what else I can do,” Lando continues. He almost sounds dangerous. It causes you to feel flustered. What is he talking about?
“The chances of you’re winning the race are as low as the chances of us going to fuck,” you tell him as if it’s a fact, while in reality you’re not so sure about yourself.
“Seems like a good celebration, I’ll find you after the race,” Lando says, he has found his confidence back.
“You’re crazy,” you sigh, “I’m not listening to this any longer.”
“See you after the race babygirl,” Lando says when you walk away from him.
“You won’t.”
+++
Fuck. Did this actually happen? You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry when you’re looking at Lando who’s screaming from happiness while getting out of his car. How did he actually win todays race? What does this mean? What is going to happen now? Is Lando expecting that you’ll have sex with him now? Fuck.
You see the way your brother is hugging with Lando, how happy he is for his friend. It makes you think about how you felt before. Every time Lando stood on the podium you’d beam with pride, you love(d) seeing him on the podium. It was you who always told Lando that he would be standing on the top step soon and that you’d be there to celebrate with him. How things changed.
While looking at Lando who’s still celebrating with his team, you think back about the day things really went wrong between Lando and you. It has been months before it all crashed down, months filled up with weird tension and uncomfortable moments. Which all started when Lando got a girlfriend. You can’t blame him for that, you still don’t, but you just didn’t like her. Maybe it was because of your crush on Lando, maybe it was because his girlfriend sensed something and made sure that Lando and you couldn’t spend any time together anymore.
“You don’t get it Lando,” you tell him, “I never get to see you anymore, you’re always busy and don’t make time for me anymore. What changed? Are you bored of me? Am I not fun enough to be your friend anymore?”
“No, that’s not it,” Lando quickly says, “I just don’t have the time anymore.”
“You seem to have time for everyone expect for me,” you bitterly state, “I’m not stupid, I see how you’re traveling all around the world to meet up with every friend you have.”
“It’s different,” Lando defends himself.
“Just tell me what I did wrong,” you sigh, “since you’re in a relationship everything changed between us.”
Lando knew at that moment that he should tell you the truth. How he only agreed to his relationship so he could forget about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t dare to say so. And now he’s in a relationship with a weird influencer who seems to hate you and who doesn’t ‘allow’ him to see you anymore. He really should break up with her, but what will happen then?
“It’s just that she doesn’t like you,” Lando eventually tells you, “and as her boyfriend I need to chose her side, I guess?”
“So that’s it? Your girlfriend, from two months, doesn’t like me so you just decided to stop spending time with me, your friend from multiple years?” You ask confused. This time you don’t wait for Lando to continue. “That’s just, fuck, I don’t know what to say to that. Good to know my worth,” you continue sadly.
After his confession which still wasn’t the whole story, Lando didn’t know what to say anymore. He watched how you left, but didn’t follow you to make things right. Maybe it’s for the better for now. There’s nothing he can do for now. He has a girlfriend, he needs to forget about his feelings for you and move on.
Two hours later he broke up with his girlfriend, but then he was already blocked by you.
After Lando celebrated with his team, almost all the other drivers and everyone else who congratulated him, you’re waiting for him to get on the podium. You feel weird while watching Lando on the podium. There’s a part of you who’s incredibly proud of him, a part that wants nothing more then to run over to Lando and hug him and tell him how proud you are of him. The other side of you is only thinking about what will happen next.
When Lando is standing on the podium, you can’t stop thinking about how hot he looks. When Carlos finds his place next to you and watches Lando with you, he notices the way you keep looking at his best friend. “I really wouldn’t be mad if there would happen something between Lando and you,” Carlos tells you for the millionth time. “You’re crazy,” you reply annoyed.
What Carlos and you both don’t notice is the way Lando is looking for you from the podium. When you look up again, you lock eyes with Lando. He sends you a wink. Fuck.
After the podium you walk away together with Carlos, you want nothing more then get back to the hotel and sleep. This day was confusing and long, you can’t wait for it to end. Lando notices you walking away, without thinking about it he walks away from the press and starts to get towards you. He hurries and almost runs towards you. When he finally reaches you, he grabs your arm.
“What the fuck,” you mutter when you feel someone grabbing your arm. Surprised you stop walking and look behind you. You don’t even know if you are surprised or not when you notice that it’s Lando.
“You’re coming with me,” Lando tells you with a stern voice. Carlos looks confused at the two of you. You can only sigh. What are you going to say to this? You really don’t know. Slowly you nod at Lando, confusing your brother only more. Lando is quick to say a goodbye to Carlos and starts to walk off with you.
+++
Lando dropped you in his drivers room. He still has media duties, but he wanted to make sure that you didn’t leave in the mean time. While giving interviews and talking with everyone, his mind is focused on you. He can only hope that you’re still waiting for him.
In the mean time you keep thinking about what to do. You’re stressed out because of everything that’s happening. What will happen when Lando comes back from his interviews? Are the two of you going to talk things out and finally make it right? Or are you going to fight? Or is Lando actually for real and does he wants to fuck you?
Eventually the stress makes you crazy. You decide to call your brother. Who knows for how long Lando is busy, you really need to talk with someone about this and who’s better then one of Lando his best friends? You know that your brother knows about your earlier feelings for Lando, so you can only hope that he will help you now. What if your feelings return? Or better said, what if you finally realize that they have never left?
“Carlos you really need to help me,” you start to speak when Carlos picks up.
“No, no, you need to tell me what’s going on between Lando and you! He left an interview to pick you up and now he’s doing interviews again? Where are you?” Carlos reacts.
“I’m in his drivers room,” you confess, “but I don’t know what will happen between us.” After that you explain to your brother what happened earlier today when he left Lando and you alone. Carlos chuckles when you tell him about Lando his bold replies.
“What do you want to happen?” Carlos asks you eventually.
“I don’t know,” you say honestly.
“You do know,” Carlos replies, “you’re just not honest to yourself. But we both know that you’re still in love with Lando.”
Before you can react to those words, Lando is entering his drivers room. You can only pray that he didn’t hear anything from what Carlos just said. “Lando’s here,” you tell Carlos on the phone, “I’ll talk to you later.” Before hanging up you hear Carlos say something childish in the lines of ‘doing it safe’. As if Lando wants something like that to happen you think annoyed.
“What am I doing here Lando?” You ask.
“I’m getting my reward,” Lando tells you with a small smirk on his face.
“Your reward?” You ask confused.
“The chances of you winning the race are as low as the chances of us having sex,” Lando speaks up, “Remember those words babygirl?”
“What do you want Lando?” You ask him.
“You.”
Lando his answer makes you shiver. His following movements make it only worse. Without giving it a second thought, Lando pulls you into himself. His finger is under your chin, softly lifting it up for himself. He looks you into your eyes, searching for some sort of approval before he continues with his movements. When you show him a quick nod, he’s sure about it. Lando presses his lips against yours.
Fuck, you can’t remember the last time a kiss felt so good. Now that you think of it, a kiss probably never felt this good before. It feels like everything is finally falling into it’s place. Lando pulls you as close into himself as he can manage. Your lips don’t leave his. When you feel Lando his hands on your body, a soft moan leaves your lips. Lando feels it vibrate against his own. Slowly he pulls back from you.
“Lan,” you softly whimper when he doesn’t stop looking at you.
“What is it babygirl?” He asks you. It’s the first time in a year that the nickname feels sweet instead of sarcastic.
“Do something please,” you beg.
Lando is quick to respond to your pleas. His hands find your body. Slowly he explores your curves while he presses some soft kisses on your neck, shoulders and face in the mean time. When Lando his hands are getting lower, you’re quick to lift up your skirt for him. Lando smirks when he notices it.
“What do you want me to do?” Lando asks you.
“If you can win,” you softly say, “then you also can fuck me I guess.”
This time Lando doesn’t hide his excitement anymore. He shows you an enthusiastic grin and moves away from you. Before you can complain, he’s already sitting in front of you. He takes off your skirt and starts to trace figures onto your still clothed cunt. He feels how your string is already damp.
“You guess?” Lando asks you.
“Don’t tease,” you tell him, “just fuck me already.”
Lando removes your string from your body. He moves his head closely to your cunt and presses a soft kiss against your clit. He’s in conflict with himself, he wants to take his time with you and show you exactly what he has to offer but he also just wants to fuck you right now until the both of you are lost for words.
“Lan,” you whimper.
“Can’t I take my time with you babygirl?” Lando asks you teasingly. In the mean time he pulls down his race suit and boxers.
“Next time,” you reply.
It makes Lando’s heart miss a beat. You’re thinking about a next time? His smile gets bigger again. He pulls you closer to him and aligns his dick with your entrance. You grab his hair in the mean time and try to get Lando closer towards yourself so you can kiss him again. When Lando lets his dick enter your body, it causes you to let out a loud moan.
“Fuck,” Lando groans, “waited fucking four years to feel this.”
You barely hear him. Lando his words surprise you. Four years ago the two of you just met. At that time Carlos just got Lando as his new teammate. What does Lando mean with this. Before you can make things more clear for yourself, Lando continues to speak.
“Always wanted to fuck you,” Lando grunts, “Always thought about fucking you.”
Does this mean what you think it means?
“What about..” You start to ask. “Don’t say her name,” Lando is quick to interrupt you. How does he already know that you’re talking about his ex? “Only got with her so I could forget you,” he confesses.
“Fuck,” you moan, you don’t know but after Lando his sudden confession the sex feels even ten times better then before. “Always wanted you to fuck me as well,” you confess.
That makes Lando slow down.
“Waited four years for you,” you continue to confess.
This time Lando stops moving inside of you.
“Are you serious babygirl?” Lando asks confused.
“Yes,” you softly tell Lando, “I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.”
Lando grins, “That’s good,” he says, “Really good.” He picks up his earlier pace and continues to fuck you. When the both of you reached your high, Lando carefully pulls back. He pulls you onto himself. Holding you as close towards himself as he can.
“Four years right?” You ask Lando.
“Four years,” he replies with a nod.
The both of you let out a soft laugh. Suddenly nobody cares about what happened between you two in the last year. Sure, you will talk about it some time. But not now. Lando presses a kiss against your cheek.
“Did you really think I couldn’t get a win today?” Lando suddenly asks you.
“Lan,” you softly say, “I always believed you could get a win everywhere.”
“That’s a girlfriend thing to say,” Lando jokes, “Are you my girlfriend now?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“There’s nothing more I want to,” Lando confesses.
“Then I guess I’m your girlfriend,” you laugh. Lando kisses you again.
“Let’s grab dinner with your brother,” Lando suggests, “and after that I want you in my hotel room so I can take my time with you.”
“Deal.”
y/n: want to get dinner with me and my boyfriend?
y/n: he’s a race winner ;)
carlos: finally
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris imagine#ln4#formula one#f1#lando norris smut#lando norris imagines
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Thank you for all of the stories recently! Can you do one where Lando gets tired of you calling him “Little Lando Norris” and decides to show you how big he really is?
L.L.N II Lando Norris ⒽⓌ
SUMMARY: Lando doesn't mind you making fun and playing games just as long as you're aware of the truth...and he'll be more than happy to remind you.
WARNINGS: **18+**
A/N: Got some good news so felt inspired to write again ;) Sorry for the delay.
"Aww poor little Lando." You jokingly patted him on the back. "Better luck next time buddy." you laughed as you walked away leaving him fuming.
Once again you'd beat Lando for 3rd place by merely a few seconds, an ongoing rivalry between you both that had everyone at the edge of their seats.
Ever since karting you and Lando had this heated rivalry, always making the other's life impossible and being each other's biggest competition so it was no surprise when it continued onto Formula 1.
To the outside world, it was incredibly entertaining for everyone to see the rivalry between the two of you. The rude remarks and snarky comments you threw at each other during interviews, the hate between you two only brewing stronger with each race.
But little did people know the way you were able to keep the hate at bay and keep yourselves in check. It had all started as a stupid drunk mistake when you found yourselves fucking in a club bathroom. The memory was hazy but you both remembered enough to know that deep down you liked it.
The next time it was a simple rash decision, you didn't think about it when you found yourself waking up in Lando Norris's room naked his arm across your waist, quickly throwing it off before running back to your room.
It was good. The sex was good, and that was the only reason you kept coming back. That's what you both told each other.
But it had become a frequent occurrence now, almost 5 months of quick and meaningless fucks where you could let out the pent-up tension and anger you had for each other.
But this still didn't take away from the fact that you still loved to piss each other off on track. Secretly you'd grown to love doing it more because you felt the direct consequence of it later.
"Lando, how do you feel about yet another close battle today with your biggest rival on track?" The interviewer asked him.
"Yeah, she just got lucky getting the better line around the next corners, but she knows I'm not one to back down, she knows what's coming for her," Lando smirked loving the double meaning behind his words.
He could see you a few feet from him giving your own interview. He just about heard you when once again you'd referred to him as Little Lando Norris, something you'd taken to recently which just irked him a little more than usual.
He watched you carefully, keeping his eyes on you like a hawke which to everyone else looked like pure hatred but truly it was simply because Lando could see the way Pierre got a little too friendly with you for his liking.
Lando would never admit it to you but he truly couldn't control the jealousy that erupted in his stomach whenever he saw you get too friendly with anyone. Whatever you had might have been meaningless but as far as he was concerned you were still his for now.
"Alright thanks, Lando enjoy your break." Lawrence finalized the interview with Lando outside the McLaren hospitality just as he could see you walking out of the press conference room with Pierre quickly by your side.
He didn't hesitate as he stood up with a quick step towards you. His blood boiling when he heard you laugh at something Pierre said.
"I need to talk to you." Lando stood in front of you making you stop abruptly and bump into his chest.
"Oh look hey speaking of the devil." You smirked.
"Little Lando Norris." Pierre joked but for some reason, Lando didn't find it the least bit amusing coming from him.
"Okay well can't talk now so bye." You were about to move past him but Lando grabbed your arm.
"Wasn't asking." Lando was ready to pull you away with him but was stopped by Pierre who grabbed your other hand.
"I actually just asked her for a drink so-" Pierre was quick to tell Lando.
"So she can't right now." Lando didn't let him finish or you protest before whisking you away.
You were completely taken aback as Lando shamelessly dragged you away from Pierre not caring the way there were several eyes on you as he took you towards the McLaren building.
Your heart pounded in your chest rendering you speechless as he walked you all the way into the building past several staff members before reaching his room where he was quick to shut you both inside.
"Lando what the-" you finally regained your voice as the door closed behind you.
"Shut up." Lando pressed his lip to yours as he pressed you to the wall. You had to push through the rush that invaded your body trying not to give in so easily.
"Lando, what has gotten into you?" You asked breathlessly as Lando began kissing down your neck unbuttoning your jeans and dragging them down
"So it's just Lando now?" was all he said.
"What are you- ah fuck." before you could reply again you cut yourself off when Lando began ruthlessly attacking your clit.
Lando basked in the pleasure he could produce on you loving the way you became putty in his hands behind closed doors despite the way you loved to tease him and take control outside.
Lando's pants suddenly felt painfully tight as he continued his attack on you taking the liberty he unbuckled his pants all while still tasting you before pulling his dick out into his hands to give it a few pumps.
Lando didn't stop, not until you had your first orgasm before finally getting up. "Why don't you return the favor baby?" Lando asked despite knowing he didn't have to since you were on your knees before he could even finish asking.
You prepared yourself knowing the ache you would feel from sucking him off having to open wide to take him into your mouth. Lando's eyes showed the smugness in them at watching the way you always struggled initially to take him never able to take him all down until you'd sucked him off for a while.
Lando groaned as you began moving your head up and down, your hands taking care of what you couldn't fit in your mouth for now.
"Nothing so little about that is there?" Lando asked the pride clear in his voice.
Only now did you understand what this was all about but you didn't care to complain since he'd gotten you all worked up.
"Why don't you make it extremely clear for me." You decided to try to have your own way.
"Gadly baby." Lando pulled you up before picking you up and using the wall to support you in his arms before using one of his hands to line himself up against your whole.
"Please-" You pleaded, Lando loved the way you begged every time he got near you like these.
"you ready?" he asked despite feeling your wetness already drip onto him.
"Yes, please fuck me." You sighed as you grabbed Lando's face to kiss him.
Lando used this distraction to push himself all the way inside you swallowing your yelp. "Shit baby you're so wet," Lando whispered knowing he had to keep semi-quiet because of the remaining staff in the building right now. Although half of him hoped everyone could hear what you were doing and the way he was making you feel right now...make it crystal clear to everyone.
"Ah, fuck Lando go faster." You begged him as Lando pushed in and out of you fully and completely at a brutally slow pace.
"Who's making you feel like this baby?" Lando asked not answering to your pleas just yet.
"You Lan...You are." You could almost cry at the torturous pace he'd set.
"not even fucking Pierre can make you feel like this can he?" His words were laced with disgust and anger which made your stomach flutter.
"No...no just you." You replied kissing Lando once again.
This was enough for Lando as he picked up his pace feeling the way you clenched around him and the way you struggled to keep quiet.
"Fu...so good...shit" You moaned in a whisper as Lando kept thrusting faster and faster into you against the wall.
Lando could cum at the sight of you, watching the way your tits would bounce with each thrust, the way your eyes rolled back, and hearing your uneven breaths as you tried to keep quiet while your orgasm quickly approached, feeling the way you held onto him as if your own skin was begging for more. This was it. This was glory to Lando.
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1#f1smut#smut#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1fic#formula 1#changetyre#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#ln4
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let's show the world ꨄ carlos sainz smau
carlos sainz x wife!reader
warnings: hateful/mean comments, cyberbullying
in which carlos has to make it clear to the world how much his wife means to him, and how strangers on the internet know nothing about them or their relationship.
f1drivernews
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f1drivernews it appears ferrari driver carlossainz55 and wife yourusername spent the summer break in style, rumours have it that the resort they stayed in ibiza was almost €7500 per person a night. sainz and his wife have been notorious for staying in extravagant hotels and resorts during both summer and winter breaks. the lifestyles of the rich and famous continues!
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username oh the things i would do to be a millionaire
username just be like yourusername and bag yourself a rich husband, constant flow of money lol
username that's a polite way of saying just be a gold-digger and you'll be set babes
username lol the fact b4 he met her carlos used to spend breaks with his fam and friends??? has no one told him how much of a red flag this is???
username girl since when is a driver spending their break with their WIFE a red flag???
username €7500 PER PERSON???? aint no way that was carlos' idea lol what a joke
username i'd be so embarrassed to be yourusername like what does girlypop even do??? other than mooch off her husband ofc
username she's actually very successful in her own line of work? not sure what you're alluding to but yeah
username she could be the top 10% of whatever she does and still not be as successful as carlos, hop off hunni
username guess f1drivernews was too nice to post the hideous closeups of yourusername... girly's not looking too great nowadays poor carlos
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landonorris your mrs told me she got a hole in one, how's it feel to suck carlos
yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
username bet you paid out of your ass for her for this round of golf too smh
username embarrizzing sorrrrryyy carlos
yourusername has posted a story
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carlossainz55 thank you for dinner amor, you spoil me as always
username girl delete this rn this is so embarrassing
username loool ur not fooling anyone sweetie
username red nails for a golddigger? typical babes
yourusername
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yourusername i'm amazed by you every single day, even more when you come back to our room stinking of champagne 💗
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landonorris no special post for me?? you told me i was ur son the other day and this is the treatment i get ? emancipation right now
landonorris before you say it, i know that's a big word for elmo. thanks.
alexandrasaintmleux im still obsessed with that jacket 🫶🏻
username you looked so pretty this weekend! carlos is so lucky
carlossainz55 always more special when we're both coming back smelling like champagne hermosa
username i think its like so childish u deleted 75% of ur followers like u wanna be in the public eye but dont want what comes with it??? weird but alright
username im so over you honestly carlos deserves better
username ur acc the worst wag like yikes
f1gossip
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f1gossip the streets are saying carlos was in suzuka alone this week, his wife of two years yourusername reportedly took a flight home instead of following her husband along to suzuka after the singapore win... trouble in paradise? 👀👀
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username omg it's happening
username FINALLY GOOD RIDDANCE
username my man is back on the market!!!!! time for someone prettier, hotter, better, basically anyone opposite of his wife lol byeeeee
username ur all insane, she has her own job??? she can't follow her husband to every end of the earth
username waiting for the ig stories 'we've decided to split amicably, please allow us privacy'
username LOOOL i bet it's gonna say that word for word!!!! not like we'll see hers tho cause she locked us all out
username this acc made my day ahhhhhhhh
yourusername has posted a story
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carlossainz55 amor what's wrong??
yourusername i just dont understand why people have to be so mean.
landonorris carlando to the rescue dont worry y/n
carlossainz55
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tagged yourusername
carlossainz55 this last week has been extra special for me, to know it is the anniversary of the first time i met my best friend, and that she was able to be with me when i lifted the trophy in singapore is a wonderful feeling.
but to see all the ignorant, unkind, and hurtful comments that are regularly directed at my wife has put a negative twirl on this time. my wife, to me, is the most beautiful woman in the world. she is kind, and loving, and has given up the world for me time and time again. no one knows our relationship more than her and i. many of you speak things that are so ignorant and false it is disgusting. if you are one of these people, please know, you are not a fan i find myself caring for.
i beg those who continue to speak poorly of my wife, to think about how your actions can harm others. thank you. and to yourusername, you are the most important light in my life. i cant wait to see you amor.
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landonorris 🧡🧡
charles_leclerc be kind always!
yourusername te amo, always and forever.
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yourusername i didnt even see you take that photo... ur so cute ily
landonorris tell her i got 50 of the flowers for her
username omg i love that book!!!! y/n has great taste what a queen
username i would die to be ur wife, but i would also die to be y/n's wife so lol
ahhhh this is the smau part 2 i promised to my last carlos written story! thank you to the lovely person who requested it, i hope it's what you wanted! please let me know what you think, i hope you all loved it 💗
taglist
@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @sarahedwards16 @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios @ihrtdan @myloverjk-blog @glow-ish @goldenmclaren @mercunty
if your name is bolded/striked tumblr wont allow me to tag you! ive tried multiple things, but it's unfortunately giving me a very hard time with a few people. im so sorry! please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!!
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#f1 smau#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1
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—✯ KNEE SOCKS
AM Masterlist
cw. 18+ mdni. afab!reader, phone/video sex, established relationship, lingerie, masturbation, HAPPY SAE DAY
"Three."
ITOSHI SAE watches both in fascination and bitter pride as you choke on your own spit. Your nail slowly taps against the side of the vibrator, clicking in the microphone.
Sae clicks his tongue impatiently when you pout at him through the camera, glaring at his stupidly handsome face. "At least let me catch my breath," you glower, burrowing your head against the pillow beneath your cheek.
"Stop stalling. Three."
"Wait—"
"You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"
You seem to contemplate his words for a moment, casting him a shy, tentative glance before you shake your head. The silky lingerie hugging your body slips when you adjust yourself, and Sae can't help the way his eyes gravitate toward the extra flesh spilling over the edge of your thigh-highs.
He grunts, giving himself a squeeze through his sweats at the show. You hesitantly increase the speed of the vibe to three and sputter, pulling it away from your clit in surprise before slowly drawing it against you again.
Some people would think that Sae's favourite view is a vast green pitch crawling with talent. Others would think that it's the sea, wide and sparkling under the sun.
All those idiots are wrong.
His favourite view would always be you on your knees, fists pulled tight around whatever you can grab, face pushed down—helpless and wanting him more than anything in the world. Nothing makes his blood boil hotter.
"Wish you were—" your words tumble into nonsense, high-pitched babbles and whines until the toy slips a little, giving you a chance to speak. "Wish you were here."
"Yeah? Greedy girl, can't get enough, hm?"
"S’not as good without you," you sniffle, feet kicking up and down. They thud softly against the mattress as you writhe, forcing yourself to look at the camera.
The thing Sae hates the most about Spain is that he's confined to a video chat. His fingers twitch, instinctively wanting to reach out to grab you by the hips and give you that little extra help he knows you need.
"I know you can do it," he croons, and through the video you can see his head tilt to the side almost mockingly. "Or do you need me to fuck you that bad?"
You hiccup and shake your head again, pulling your knees closer to your body and angling yourself better for him to see. He almost smiles at the sight—that constant determination he adores so much about you.
The new angle makes you breathless, face turning into the pillow as you gasp and squeal. Sae was more careful with his ministrations than you were with this stupid piece of plastic.
"That's it," he presses, hips jutting against the fabric of his own pants to try and find some friction. "So pretty."
You cry and cry and cry, voice breaking the longer play with yourself. "Sae," you pant, muffled by the pillow. "Sae... Wanna cum, please? Can I?"
He hums low, agonizingly indecisive. Then, finally,
"Go on."
It only takes a few seconds before you sob, feet kicking again while you cum. Sae is about to laugh when you shake so hard the propped-up phone almost topples over. It gets caught in his throat when you pull the toy away and he can see the slick glistening down its side in the light.
Sae is transfixed. His fingers slip past the elastic of his waist band before he can stop himself and he lets out the tiniest of groans when he squeezes his length proper.
Sticky cum coats his thumb when he swipes over the tip with it, but it's not enough. He needs more. He'd always need more of you—maybe even more than you needed him.
He would never admit that to you, though.
"Again."
#hymn.✯#blue lock smut#blue lock x reader#itoshi sae smut#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi smut#bllk smut#bllk x reader
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cross my heart
pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader
summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.
word count: 4.0k
tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)
a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅
read it on ao3 | masterlist
It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends.
You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.
Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.
The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.
The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.
Well, apart from one thing.
The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.
You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.
You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.
Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.
You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.
—
The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.
There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.
You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.
And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.
You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.
You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.
You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.
You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.
You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.
“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”
“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”
“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.
“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”
“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”
“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”
“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”
After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.
“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”
“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.
“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”
“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”
“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”
“I saw her at the library.”
“Okay,” Chan says slowly.
“She was with someone else, a guy.”
“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard. “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”
“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”
“Who was the guy?”
“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.
“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”
“No- but, I-”
“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.
“What? Why would I make this up?”
“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”
“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”
“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”
“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”
“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”
“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”
“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.
“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.
“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.
Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.
—
The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.
Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.
“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.
“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious.
In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.
While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.
“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”
“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”
“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.
“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”
“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”
You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming.
“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.
“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.
Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.
“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”
“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”
“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”
“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”
“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”
“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.
“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”
“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”
“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”
“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.
—
You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.
It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.
Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.
“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”
“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.
“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.
The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.
Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.
He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.
“Y/n,” he says gravely.
“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.
“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.
“Okay? What did they say?”
Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.
“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.
“What?” You can't believe your ears.
“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”
You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.
“Do you know why?”
“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.
“Oh.”
“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone.
“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.
“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”
“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”
“Y/n-”
“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”
Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.
—
A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced.
You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.
He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.
“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”
“Ah, Hayoon.”
“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.
“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”
“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”
For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.
“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”
“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.
“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”
Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.
“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”
“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”
“Y/n?” Chan pleads.
“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”
“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”
You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.
read it on ao3 | masterlist
#cross my heart#chahnniesroom#skz fanfic#skz angst#skz fic#skz x reader#skz x female readerskz x y/n#stray kids angst#stray kids x female reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#bang chan angst#chan angst#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x you#chan fic#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x you#skz imagines#stray kids#chan#bang chan#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin
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Spooky Season Terry 👀
I gotchu anon 👀🖤 I couldn't actually picture Terry as like something supernatural or not human so I present you with delusional stalker Terry, I think this is probably more dark than spooky...
Want You (oneshot)
A/n: I am purposefully not tagging anyone cause this is a pretty dark story, read at your own discretion and minors kindly fuck off.
Summary: Terry x female reader, you unlock psychopathic behavior within Terry
Warnings/Content: Stalker/Yandere behavior, Terry obsessed, oral (female receiving), mirror sex
Word Count: 4,365 sorryyyy I seem to be incapable of writing a quickie 🥴
He wishes he’d never set eyes on you. Actually, he wishes you didn’t even exist. That first glimpse of you was like some kind of gateway drug, and now he was a full on addict, doing anything in his power to obtain more and more pieces of you.
You were torture itself. What sadistic being sent you to the park that day? Terry watched you, sitting on a bench perfectly placed in the shade of a tree, eyes closed and head tilted up to better hear the singing birds. He admired the serenity that seemed to surround you, and it stirred something in him. Your eyes slowly opened when you heard Terry jogging by, and you gave him a friendly smile, and Terry nodded to you, as if everything was fine. But it fucking wasn’t.
You stayed on the forefront of his mind while he jogged, his memory of you vibrant-your beautiful skin exposed to the sun in your athletic set, your pretty eyes pulling him in within just a few seconds, your plump lips he wanted to suck the life out of. Why? Why did you pick him to trap in your grasp?
Terry took another lap around the park, just to see you again. He stopped in front of the empty bench, frustrated because where the fuck where you, any why was he looking for you? He decided it didn’t even matter, you didn’t matter, he’d never see you again. But his body instinctively led him to the parking lot, and there you were, getting into your cute little car, happily chatting away on your cell, completely unaware of your surroundings. You’d missed the hulking shadow that stood in the spot you just left.
~~~~~~~
It was Terry’s shitty, horrible luck that he ran into you again. He’d been just starting to find other things to occupy his mind. He’d never had a human obsession before. Usually, his compulsions were limited to strenuous physical activities; his time in the military had taught him that being present in his body was a perfect way to numb his mind—a dark place he preferred not to linger in. And he liked it that way. Alone, controlled. So this weird fixation on you? It was new, it was out of control, and he fucking hated it.
That’s why he was so grateful the memory of you had finally started to fade after two weeks. His mind was clearing, and he’d begun to feel like himself again. And then there you were— innocently stretching on your tip toes reaching for the last box of cereal on the top shelf. You just happened to find yourself at the grocery store he’d claimed for himself, because they always had his favorite protein bars in stock. And now you’d taken this from him, too.
Before he could think, Terry found himself striding toward you, his steps stiff, almost as if he were being pulled to you. His broad, solid frame just barely grazed yours as he reached up and snatched the box from the top shelf. You gasped, startled, and turned quickly, a nervous smile forming as you prepared to thank whatever giant had come to your aid—only to falter, the words lodging themselves in your throat.
You felt your mouth go dry under the steely look in his gray eyes. They were beautiful, maybe, but they pierced right through you. His face was unreadable, but there was something so oddly familiar about it.
Terry’s eyes studied every detail of you, and you were even prettier up close—that was just plain unfair. His body was buzzing with energy, his mind flashing with a desire to see you caught off guard as he was, to show you what it felt like. But he wasn’t an animal. You wouldn't rob him of his restraint like you did his sanity. So he reached around you, tossed the cereal into your cart, and brushed past you without a second glance.
“Uh… thank you,” you managed, a confused, breathless call, but the words fell on deaf ears.
What the hell was that? Why did he look so familiar? Why did he look so… angry with you?
~~~~~~~
Terry really played himself, when he’d only meant to play with you. Your scent stuck to him, he should’ve never gotten so close. Why did you have to smell so irresistibly good, like you were created exclusively to make him suffer. He doesn’t want to want you. He purposefully didn’t want anyone at all as much as they always try. But your smell lingered on him, infiltrated his psyche. He had no choice but to follow you home. He hated himself for it, and hated you even more.
From there it was so fucking easy, almost as if you didn’t know you were entertaining dangerous company. Your front door only had 2 locks, you were on the top floor of your building so you never locked your patio door or windows, you didn’t have any cameras. Do you not care about your life at all? Terry would have to fix that, would teach you, once he made you his, how to exist in this world without being easy prey.
He found himself in your place so often now, especially while you were home. It sent a shiver up his spine to move when you moved, expertly ducking around corners to stay undetected. He listened to your conversations, ate the food you made whenever you’d fall asleep, read your journal entry of recognizing the handsome stranger was the same man from the store. And yeah, he even sniffed the toys you used to make yourself cum, stealing your little bullet vibrator, putting it in his mouth once he got back to his place, and he came the hardest he ever has to date, the taste of your essence pushing him deeper into obsession.
His nose is actually what gets him caught. He’d overheard you telling your best friend about wanting to get a furry companion, the puppy of your dreams to make your place feel less lonely. And so Terry, who’s hatred for you was teetering on the edge of affection, got you the ugly little fucker. And it whined and shat and yipped all night. Terry called out of work, because no one needs to experience him so sleep deprived, and made his way over to your place. He laid on your bed, with your sleep shirt over his face, and breathed you in over and over again until the frustration dissipated. Unfortunately for him his heart rate slowed too much, and that's how you found him.
You were having a bad day enough as it is. Your boss sent you home early after being a dickhead to you all day, claiming your poor work would just slow the whole team down. Good fucking riddance, you were already interviewing for other jobs. You didn’t expect to discover a huge, faceless man on your bed. Your body shook as you looked for a weapon, and panicking, you let out a screech hurling all the shoes you could get your hands on. Terry cursed, standing quickly, the shirt still on his head leaving him disoriented and unable to block your throws. You screamed louder at the sheer length of his full height.
“Get the fuck OUT!!” you threw books at his head, backing away as he moved towards the sound of your voice.
“Would you stop-” an umbrella popped him right in the mouth.
“I’m calling the police! Get the fuck out!” you swung and hit his neck, and swung again, jamming the umbrella into his crotch.
Terry doubled over with a groan of pain, and charged instinctively. He’d somehow managed to blindly knock you into a wall, causing you to lose consciousness. He finally yanked the damn shirt off his face. Terry looked down at you, unconscious and vulnerable, and released a disappointed sigh. Look at the shit you’ve gotten yourself into. See how easily he’d taken you down, even when he could barely see? Imagine if it had been some other sick fuck breaking into your apartment. You wouldn’t stand a chance. The thought made his chest tighten, a possessive anger sparking beneath the frustration. You needed him to be the one guiding you, teaching you how to survive in a world full of people just waiting to take advantage of your carelessness.
He leaned closer, his eyes tracing the outline of your face as if committing it to memory. "What would you do without me?" he whispered, a quiet promise he was sure you’d thank him for someday. Gently, he scooped you up from the ground, cradling you close for a fleeting moment before setting you on your bed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. With one last, possessive glance, he left.
But he’d be back. This was only the beginning of showing you just how much you needed him.
~~~~~~~
Terry watched you file a police report, change the locks on your door, install cameras, and purchase a gun. He was pleased; finally, you were taking your safety seriously. You even made progress on being more aware of your surroundings, glancing over your shoulder everywhere you went—yet your eyes somehow passed right over where Terry lurked. There was still so much for you to learn.
A week later, he showed up at your door. He rang your new doorbell, and bent to look right into the camera. The hand that wasn’t holding your phone flew up to your mouth. You didn’t see the face of the man who was in your bed that day— it was covered the whole time. But the look on this man's face, you knew it was him. The intensity behind those striking eyes, it was the same at the store, and the same at the park. Fuck.
You grabbed your gun off your entry table, and held your breath, eyes locked on your phone which was displaying Terry on the other side of your door.
“I know you’re in there, I can hear you.” His voice was so soft, and deep, his lip curved into a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. After a moment, he spoke again.
“Aren’t you going to welcome your new baby home?” He moved back slightly and held up the puppy with a precious blue bow on its ear. It was sleeping peacefully in Terry’s palm, as if it wasn’t being held by a monster. You hesitated. You should really call the police. Maybe if he looked outwardly creepy, you would’ve by now. There was no denying your attraction to him, or your curiosity, but he’d crossed so many lines, probably more than you even knew about.
You unlocked the bottom 2 locks, and kept the chain lock done at the top, cracking your door open as much as the chain would give. You slowly peered at him, hand flexing on your gun, and watched as bent to eye the chain.
“Hmm that’s a nice touch bunny. Although-” you jerked back quickly as Terry reached his hand through, easily finding the latch and flicked his wrist undoing the chain. You stepped back on shaky legs as he pushed the door open all the way, the air seeming to thicken around you. He tsked at you, a mockingly sympathetic smile on his face “-that chain was much too long, I can adjust it for you-”
You dropped your phone and raised your gun, gripping it tightly with both hands, “I don’t need you to fix anything! I need you to stay away from me.” Terry was completely unphased, quirking an eyebrow at you as he shut the door behind him. He stroked the puppy’s soft fur as he walked towards you, his fingers lingering as if savoring the innocence that contrasted sharply with his darkness. He walked until he felt the barrel of your gun dig into his stomach.
“Don’t you think I’ve tried that bunny?” He grabbed your wrists with one of his big hands, forcing you to point the gun down as he pushed you to walk backwards until your legs hit the back of your couch. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving into his, lips trembling, eyes darting between his frantically. Terry leaned over you, pausing in front of your face to really take you in, before he reached around you and set your still happily sleeping puppy down on your couch.
When he straightened back up, he brought his other hand down to wrestle the gun from your fingers, and you winced in pain at his roughness.
“Don’t point this at someone unless you know how to use it.” his tone was dark and reprimanding, and you squirmed under his intense gaze as he carelessly threw the gun behind him.
His closeness was making your body grow uncomfortably warm. You looked up at him, eyes wide with fear, body shifting nervously. “What the hell do you want?” Terry cocked his head, squinting his eyes at you, trying to understand if you were really that naive.
“I want you, obviously.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, trying to mask your anxiety with defiance.
“Oh and this is how you show me you want me? Do you think this shit is cute?” You didn’t know his eyes darkening was a warning, you were too caught up in your rising rage. “I mean are you fucking kidding me? Buy a girl a coffee, ask for her number. On what planet does stalking someone, like a fucking loser, ever w-” Terry reached up and gripped your face tightly, squeezing your cheeks so your mouth puckered and you couldn’t speak. His other hand grabbed the small of your back and pulled you into his hard body. You were stuck, embarrassingly so, as he looked into your eyes, straight through you.
His lips grazed your own as he spoke. “Careful love,” his grip on your face tightened and your eyes started to water, “just because I’m already yours,” he gently nipped your chin, letting his words sink in through your defenses, “doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that.” You trembled in his hold, body and mind unable to agree on the proper fight or flight response.
Terry moved his hand along your jaw, around the back of your head to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing you to hold his serious gaze.
“As I was saying, I want you. And after watching you for a while now, I realize you need me.” His fingers tightened in your hair, a dangerous mix of restraint and possession in his touch. You could feel your heart hammering, body tensed as his gaze bore into you, unyielding.
"I know what you’re thinking," he murmured, his voice a dark and smooth, "that you can resist, or that you still have control. But look at you—" his nose nuzzled your own, and a knowing smirk curved his mouth as you shivered. "All I had to do was step inside your world, and now you can’t imagine me gone."
You wanted to deny it, to pull away, but Terry’s grip was absolute. His other hand slid down your back to your ass barely covered by pajama shorts, his fingers pressing in just enough to leave an impression, a quiet reminder of his dominance as he pressed his body closer. Heat radiated between you, the space narrowing to nothing, and with every heartbeat, your defenses crumbled.
"You want me to stay away?" he whispered, his mouth inches from yours, his breath mingling with your own. "Tell me to leave, right now." His words held a challenge, daring you to take control—but every inch of his touch made your mind blur, need flickering to life in defiance of reason. His hand released your hair and trailed down your neck, leaving your skin tingling in its wake.
Your voice barely managed to break the silence, a breathless whisper. "I…"
"That's what I thought." His mouth descended on yours, not a kiss but a claiming. His lips pressed hard, unyielding, a mix of punishment and desire that left you gasping. When he finally pulled away, his eyes held a raw hunger that matched the fire now building in your own.
Terry turned and used the hand on your ass to guide you down your hallway, and his ease moving around your home was unnerving. He brought you to your bathroom and positioned you in front of the mirror, his body pressed tightly against yours from behind, his broad hands splayed possessively over your hips. You could feel his huge bulge digging into your lower back, and you bit your lip trying to mask your excitement.
“Look at yourself,” his voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. One of his hands slid up, tilting your chin so that you were forced to meet his eyes in the reflection. His gaze was heavy and crazed, daring you to look away. “See what you do to me? And you’re gonna pretend you don’t feel it too?”
Your pulse raced as his hot hands roamed over your body, lingering on every inch as if he was committing you to memory. His fingers trailed down to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath to meet bare skin, his touch both teasing and possessive. He nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Already falling in line, just like I knew you would.” You felt his hand at your waist tighten, pulling you flush against him, grinding against your plump ass, every inch of his body demanding your attention. “Go ahead, bunny… show me how much you need me.”
Your breath caught, and his eyes gleamed in the mirror, watching every reaction you couldn’t hide. His hands wandered higher, fingers cupping your breast and tweaking your nipples with practiced ease, each touch deliberate and maddeningly slow. He watched, satisfaction etched on his face, as you melted against him, every inch of you responding to his command. Your hips moved with his, mouth dropped open in silent pleas, pretty eyes searching his to anticipate when he’d strike next.
His voice was a whisper, dark and possessive, as he pressed his lips to your shoulder, never breaking your gaze in the mirror. “You’re mine,” he growled deep in his chest, his fingers roughly pulling your nipples, his mouth leaving a trail of heat against your skin. “I want to watch you fall apart… right here. Just like this.” You moaned helplessly, the pain, the dark promises, it was so much to process so suddenly, and left you compliant to his will.
You lifted your arms obediently as Terry pulled your shirt over your head, and his mouth watered at the sight. His firm touch pushed you until your face was mushed against the mirror, and you gasped at the cold glass grazing your nipples. You had to brace yourself by gripping the counter with your hands so you wouldn't fall into your sink completely.
“Fuck bunny, you look so good” Terry groaned, grinding into your ass harder, scratching his nails roughly down your back, “but I know I’m too big for you baby, I need to get you ready for me.”
And with that Terry dropped to his knees, pulling your shorts with him. He ran his hands appreciatively from your ankles to your thighs, groaning at the sight of your glistening pussy just inches from his face. You squirmed, feeling his hot breath panting onto you, and he roughly gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you crudely, presenting your precious essence to his greedy gaze. He didn’t care anymore that stole his sanity, didn’t care that his attachment to you made you a weakness, you were his now. His to own, his to devour. He inhaled your scent deeply, his pupils dilated, and he gave himself over to the hungry darkness.
His tongue was everywhere at once suddenly, and you cried out at the feeling of his wet lips sucking your clit, his long tongue darting into you, and his hands smacking your ass, forcing you to move your hips to keep up with him. Terry could feel you dripping down his chin, and his eyes rolled back. He’d been starving for you so long and finally you were feeding his gluttonous desire. He moaned into you, bringing one of his hands up to rub your clit, lapping at your juices eagerly wanting to get every drop from you. You were a moaning, babbling mess and he couldn’t get enough.
He pulled back slightly, leaving a bite on your thigh as he eyed your untouched hole, his fingers still harshly massaging your clit. You squealed as you felt him spit right on your virgin ass hole, moving to stand before his free hand smacked your ass roughly again.
“Stay. You can take it, baby.” And his tongue explored where no one’s had before, and you hated yourself for grinding back onto his face, drool leaking from your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation this strange man was causing you. It felt to fucking good. He moved his hand from your clit to thrust 2 fingers into you, groaning at your tightness, at your sweet taste, at the helplessness he heard in your voice. You came just like that, legs buckling, voice hoarse, body overheating.
He gave you no time to recover, quickly standing, not even taking the clothes off his sweating body, just pulling his achingly large dick free from his pants. He needed to have you, right the fuck now, but he also needed you present, in this moment with him. He reached around your limp body that was still leaning against your mirror, and snaked his arm up to firmly grip your neck. You protested tiredly, feeling him arch your body up until the back of your head was on his chest, and you moved your hands to his strong thighs to hold yourself up.
Finally you opened your dazed eyes, taking in your fucked out self before locking eyes with Terry’s in the reflection, noting the delighted look on his face.
“Heyyy, there she is,” you hissed, feeling his hard tip slick through your wet folds as he began to grind, his deep voice coaxing you back to alertness, “that’s my good girl, don’t take your eyes off of us.” Terry watched you twitch and whimper as he smacked his leaking tip against your sensitive clit, and he gave you a sinister smile.
“I want you to watch yourself become mine.” His grip tightened on your neck as he roughly thrusted into you, only able to get halfway due to his large size, and you screamed quietly at the delicious stretch, nails digging into his thighs desperately trying to brace yourself.
“Oh fuck baby, that pussy is so much tighter than I thought” Terry stilled, looking down in fascination at the way your creamy essence trailed down the length of him he still couldn’t fit, and he almost came at the sight alone.
“Its okay bunny, I’m gonna get deep in her, watch me” he excitedly gripped your neck tighter, and brought his other hand to circle relentless fingers around your clit. You gasped and moaned and wiggled your hips slightly, and Terry had to close his eyes at the feeling, silently scolding himself for almost cumming too quickly.
He started to give you shallow thrusts, deep groans leaving him as he felt more and more of his dick settle inside you, and you began to crave the feeling of being completely stuffed, so you started to grind back onto him and his head shot up, eyes finding yours again in the mirror.
“Yesss baby, that’s it. Take more of daddy’s dick” you couldn’t control your noises now, and Terry couldn’t even appreciate the fact that he was fully inside you because you were throwing your ass back onto him so fucking well, ass smacking loudly on his thighs. He released your neck, and used both hands to grip your hips, pulling you back harder.
“This pussy is so good baby, I fucking knew it would be” your head bobbled at the strength of his thrusts, and your eyes never left his face, compelled to being good for him, to earn his praises. “And this pussy is all mine, say it.” His nails dug into your hips pulling you harder, and you disgustingly loved that you’d have marks later to help you remember that all of this was real, and that it really happened.
“Yesss daddy this pussy is yours” you moaned helplessly, tears flowing once again down your cheeks at the feeling of his tip harshly kissing your g spot from this angle. You brought your hands up above you, to grip the back of his head, turning your head slightly so you can look directly into his smokey gray eyes. “I’m gonna fucking cum daddy, you’re gonna make me cum” Terry was transfixed, sweat rolling down his face, mouth hanging open as your pussy squeezed down tightly onto him with your orgasm. This beautiful object of his sick obsession, his helpless bunny he needed to protect from the world, coming undone just for him, finally.
Terry pulled out of you suddenly, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he shot hot streams of cum on your ass, hands holding on to your hips as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality. Your hands stayed wrapped around his neck, too afraid you’d drop right to the ground if you let go, and Terry struggled to catch his breath as he rested his softening dick on your ass cheek. His voice was quiet when he spoke again.
“I know reality will sink in for you later tonight, when I’m gone” his hands softly massaged your hips as he continued, "Try to run, if you want. I’d love the excuse to come find you again." He chuckled softly, and you shivered knowing he was dead serious.
~~~~~~~
Happy halloween ya freaks 👻
#rebel ridge#terry richmond#terry richmond x reader#aaron pierre#terry richmond fic#terry richmond smut#rebel ridge fanfiction#one shot#spooky season 🖤#yandere#yandere Terry Richmond
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the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?
a/n: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this :] im not sure if i like it very much but I’ll let u guys pick it apart and decide if i should be run off the app or not :P please let me know what u guys think !!
wordcount: 1,376
masterlist
you’re hesitant to knock on the door you’re facing, one arm squeezing your middle and the other holding you up against the wall. you’re sure you looked like we’re about to die, but still you could help but feel like death was a better option than knocking on gojo satoru’s door at 2 in the morning.
the stinging in your side leaves you no choice, lifting your hand and knocking three times. every passing second seems eternal and you almost want to just walk away and head to campus, hoping you make it until morning.
the door swings open, satoru looks at you with wide eyes and messy hair. he looks so normal, you think, taking in his appearance of sweatpants and a t shirt he must’ve thrown on seconds before.
“what the fuck happened to you?” he breathes out, not hesitating to pick you up, carrying you to his restroom and flicking the light on. if you were any more lucid you might’ve caught the genuine concern in his voice and the pounding heart in his chest.
“think the higher ups hate me” you manage to chuckle out, sucking in a sharp breathe when you try to sit up on your own.
satoru is quick to help you up, large hands gently handling you. his brows are furrowed as he looks at the state you’re in.
“why didn’t you call up shoko or go to campus or- literally anything else?!” he scold you, his voice is a higher pitch than you’re used to, he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging slightly before sighing deeply and calming himself down.
“didn’t wanna bother ‘em” you say, voice small. gojo knows in his mind you of all people could never be a bother, especially when shoko absolutely loves you.
“can i take this off?” he asks softly, tugging at your uniform top. you nod weakly, letting him work the fabric off you gently, sucking his teeth when he sees the gash on your side.
“that bad huh?” you laugh, there’s a beat of silence that you find unbearable. your eyes are heavy and the only way you can muster staying awake is by talking, words leaving your mouth without even thinking, “not gonna tell me ‘I’ve had worse’ or ‘this is nothing’ ?”
satoru only brings himself to snicker, “you’re about to pass out and you still wanna bicker with me.”
“to be fair it’s always you starting shit” you chuckle, hissing when he starts cleaning your wound. satoru mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before continuing.
you weren’t completely wrong, satoru always loved seeing you riled up. he loved watching the way the fire ignited behind your eyes when you shot something back at satoru, he loved watching your nose scrunch up when he said something stupid, he loved how you’d fight back smiles when he disrespected some asshole higher up.
“yeah, yeah, you're always saying that” he smiles, finishing up whatever he could on your side before moving to the cuts on your face.
you were still as he gently dabbed the wipes on your face, the slight stinging feeling was the last thing on your mind. the smell of his body wash was muddling your thoughts, the way his fingertips brushed against your skin gave you goosebumps.
“who sent you on the mission?” his voice was no longer playful and light. there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, and you couldn’t stop the chills that ran down your spine.
the only thing you could muster was a small shrug of your shoulders.
“it was the higher ups from last time, wasn’t it? the one you stood up to?” his voice is threatening and low, blue eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid eye contact.
“y/n, look at me” the stern tone left no room for protest, looking at him and gulping. you nodded your head, whispering a small ‘yeah.’ satoru mumbled something you couldn’t hear, his jaw clenched and hands shaking slightly.
“I’m going to kill them” he spat, taking a step back before look at you again, the sight filling him with even more rage.
“didn’t you say that wouldn’t change anything?” you stated, sitting up as best you could, trying your best to hide the pain you felt from the sudden movement.
satoru ignored your words, already making a move to head out of the bathroom door, but your voice stopped him.
“don’t- i don’t wanna be alone” you whispered, eyes watering a bit as the reality of the situation hit you all at once. “i just- nevermind” you laughed dryly, hissing as you pushed yourself off the countertop and stood.
satoru was immediately at your side holding you up, “what are you-” your words cut him off before he could finish.
“I’m gonna go home, don’t wanna bother you more than i have” you smiled, eyes still a bit teary. you’re brain doesn’t process what’s happening fast enough, only realizing what’s happening a couple seconds later when satoru’s arms are wrapped around your body.
“you aren’t going anywhere” he mumbles against the top of your head, squeezing you gently.
the warmth of his body is enough to comfort you, muscles relaxing and letting your tears spill against his chest.
“why?” you whisper, the question causing satoru to tense up against you. “why do you care so much?”
his thoughts stop for a second, the only thing on his mind is you. the way you’re looking at him in a way you never have before, with an emotion he can’t place. he can only think of one thing.
“isn’t it obvious?” he replies, voice soft, his cheeks heating up and ears burning. he’s trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands as he caressed your cheek softly, thumb wiping away a stray tear.
“only obvious thing about you is your ego” you smile, laughing a bit between sniffles as satoru gasps at you.
“and you say i start things?” he giggles, picking you up softly before leading you to his bedroom. the two of you in a comfortable silence as he looks through his drawers, handing you one of his shirts and shorts for you to change into.
“you can drop me off at home-” you begin but satoru is quick to speak over you.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, there’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer under the sink,” he says, continuing to list off any other items you’d need and where to find them.
it’s ten minutes later and you’re laying in the large bed, staring at the ceiling when you find the energy to walk into the hallway, peeking around the corner and into the living room.
satoru smiled at you, the bright tv lights illuminating his figure, “cant sleep?” he asks. you nod your head, slowly making your way towards him. “c’mere” he says softly, gently moving you when you sit on the couch, letting you cuddle into his side until you were comfortable.
between the exhaustion and the comfort of satoru’s fingers running along your arm you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes (10, satoru was counting). he placed a feathery kiss to the top of you head, shifting to pick you up, carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, slipping besides you before facing the opposite direction.
you stirred a bit, mumbling something and causing satoru to turn, “y/n?” he whispered. you seemed to gravitate towards him, one of your arms finding him and tugging his shirt, making him come closer to you. still asleep, you nuzzled yourself against him, sighing softly before stilling again.
satoru draped his arm around you, keeping you close before letting his eyes shut. for tonight, he won’t think about the thing he’ll say and do to the higher ups who sent you on that mission as punishment.
instead he’ll hold you close, keeping you safe and making sure you’re well enough to argue on any and every thing possible. he’ll make you breakfast tomorrow and ask if you feel the same for him. he’ll rush you to shoko so he can kiss you with as much passion and fervor as he’s imagined since the time you almost beat him in an argument.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
#not proofread we did like men as always#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru drabble#gojo x reader#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru one shot#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fanfic#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo Drabble#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen imagine#satoru gojo x reader fluff#gojou satoru x reader
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Do I Wanna Know? | Octoberfest Day 2
➺ Pairing - best friend!Juyeon x fem! reader
➺ Drink - Old Fashioned with a hint of absinthe (aka best friend!au x high / drunk sex)
➺ Summary - They say you should always chase your dreams...But what if your dream is a person?
➺ Word Count - 0.9K
➺ Warnings - Smut (18+, minors DNI), wet dreams, unprotected sex, dub con (don't read if triggering), foreplay, fingering, dry humping, messy makeouts, begging, wet dreams, marking, creampie, hair pulling, biting (?), a very in love Juyeon if you look closer , idiots-to-lovers eventually
➺ Author’s note - a shorter fic for today but I had this idea in my wips for a long time, felt like it was the right time to use it haha thinking of making a part 2 for this but do let me know if you’re interested in that! Title inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song of course. Proofread once, hope you enjoy!
➺ Taglist - @deoboyznet @snowflakewhispers @midnightfantasiez
@momhwa-agenda @nyu-topia @jaminthemiddle
➺ OctoberFest Masterlist
It almost seemed too real for Juyeon.
The way you whined under his touch. How his lips kissed the soft skin of your neck, one hand holding your neck while the other rested on your hip, enveloping you in a warm embrace as he cuddled you in his bed from behind. Holding onto you as if you'd slip away from him at any given moment.
He always had dreams like this. Dreams where he had you to himself. Dreams where he crossed the boundary of your friendship. Dreams where he could finally call you his. Dreams where you felt the same as he did.
Oh, how he hated waking up from these kinds of dreams, because he would have to face the reality that you were not his.
It's not that Juyeon hated being your best friend. He would rather choose your friendship over anything, even if it meant squashing down whatever romantic feelings he had for you. Even if it meant one day you two could no longer hang out the way you would because someone else had your attention.
Until then, he would cherish every moment he had with you, relish in dreams where he was the center of your attention for once. To touch you as only a lover should, just like he's currently doing in this very hazy but vivid dream.
"I want you," he mumbles in your ear, "I want you all to myself."
"Then have me. I've always been yours…" you whine out.
Something stirred within Juyeon as you said those words, making him tighten his grip on you as he started to leave love bites on your neck and shoulder. His hands snaked beneath your denim shorts, his palm cupping your sex as you moaned sweetly for him.
Juyeon's fingers start to dip between your folds, teasing your sensitive bud as you squirm against him. You couldn't help but desperately gasp his name, begging for him to undress you and tear you apart. And so he did, aggressively pulling down your shorts and pulling your panties to the side.
You could feel his clothed erection pressed up against your wet entrance as he slowly ruts into you, one hand cupping your mound as the other lifts your leg for better access.
Juyeon's breath falters as he feels your slick slowly dampening his clothes. He lets out a growl against your ear, swiftly removing his own pants as his desire for you grows stronger. He desperately needed to feel your skin against his, even your wetness was starting to feel too real for him to comprehend. He tugs his length briefly before aligning himself to your entrance, his tip eagerly nudging as he waits for your command.
"Tell me you want it." Juyeon gently holds your jaw with his other hand, wanting to look into your eyes as you beg for him to cross the line.
"Please, I want it. I want it so bad," you whine. Juyeon leans forward, his lips just a whisper away from touching yours as his eyes look down to your lips.
"If I give it to you, there's no turning back," he says with a deep and slow voice, subtly warning you of the consequences of your actions.
"I don't care," you breathe out, your eyes filled with desire. "I want you, Juyeon. I've always wanted you."
Without hesitation, Juyeon captures your lips in a passionate kiss, his hips slowly pushing forward as he enters you. You both moan into the kiss, overwhelmed by the sensation of finally becoming one.
Your hand instantly grabs his hair behind you as he starts to thrust his entire length inside you. Juyeon groans as you tug onto his hair, slowly increasing his pace while he holds your leg up. You two don't stop kissing as he continues to fuck himself between your velvety walls. Lips slotting between one another perfectly, tongues intertwining with one another, moaning into each other's mouths.
Everything about this dream was perfect to Juyeon, almost too perfect in fact. From all the wet dreams he's had, this one by far had to be the most vivid. Your touch, your sounds, even the smell of the shampoo you used, it almost seemed like—
"Fuck, I'm so close—" Juyeon slurs his words. "Come with me, please come with me," he begs.
"Juyeon, I— ugh!" Your walls suddenly squeeze his cock as you tighten your grip on his hair, tugging it as you fall over the edge. Juyeon comes right after you, his warmth instantly blooming inside you as he stills. He tries to catch his breath for a moment, trying to grasp why everything felt too real for him…
"Juyeon!"
He feels his body being shaken as your panicked voice causes his eyes to flutter open. His vision slowly adjusting as he feels his bed dip, your figure moving frantically as you pull away from him. Once Juyeon's vision starts to become clear, he sees your widened eyes looking back at him, as if you've seen a ghost.
"What's going on?" his groggy voice asks you, but you don't move a muscle as you're frozen in place.
Something wet flutters around his cock, making Juyeon hiss at the feeling. The moment he looks down to check, the realization hits him like a tidal wave… it wasn't a dream after all.
"Oh fuck…"
#🍸— octoberfest#deoboyznet#juyeon smut#lee juyeon#juyeon#tbz smut#the boyz smut#the boyz hard hours#tbz scenarios#the boyz fic#the boyz fanfic#tbz drabbles#the boyz scenarios#tbz hard hours#kpop smut
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Insecurities - Rafayel
Summary: Here is the portion of Rafayel reacting to your insecurities. And you best know this man goes big to prove a point. Much fluff.
Here is the original with the other LADS boys
Word Count: 1831
Notes: Reader has insecurities about they way they look, so just keep in mind. It ends fluffy and happy though.
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“Rafayel, do I look okay?”
The artist immediately drops whatever he was doing, twisting around to peer over the back of the couch as you step into the studio.
His iridescent eyes scan over your figure, his voice lilting with teasing affection, “I’m not sure I even want to go if this is what you’re wearing. I think everyone would think you’re the art and ignore my hard work.”
You wrinkle your nose. Partially because he’s being ridiculous. Partially because you don’t really believe him. The dress is gorgeous of course, he did a great job of helping you pick one out, but it doesn’t change the way you’ve been feeling for the past few days.
Before you met Rafayel, you never paid much attention to how you looked. Not in a bad way, you kept yourself neat and dressed up whenever you went out for special occasions, but it was never on your mind much. But now…You don’t know. It’s not Rafayel’s fault, the man has never been shy in complimenting you, but you can’t help but notice the type of women that like to approach him. All gorgeous enough to be models, with the confidence to match - seeing as they always have to gall to flirt with him even when you’re holding hands.
And you wish it didn’t get to you. It shouldn’t. Rafayel doesn’t even bat an eyelash at them, always focusing on you or making more obvious shows of affection to chase them away. Still, the more it happens, the more you find yourself caring about how you look, or not liking the way you look.
And wearing a lovely dress only seems to highlight your self-perceived flaws.
“Do you really think it looks okay?” You ask again, fiddling with the satin self-consciously.
Rafayel’s brow furrows a little. He tilts his head, looking almost like a confused puppy, “What is it? Do you not like the dress? Do you not want to go anymore? Please don’t make me go alone. These galleries are sooo boring without you, I hate them.”
“They’re your galleries,” you point out, shaking your head with a small smile, “How can you hate them so much? It’s your work, they deserve to be celebrated.”
“Why go stare at my own work when I can spend the night staring at you?”
Heat creeps up your cheeks. Usually you’d have a witty comeback to his flirting, but you can’t find anything tonight, not with how you’re feeling. So you just ruffle his hair fondly, avoiding the intense affection in his gaze.
“Come on, Thomas will be mad if we don’t show up. We need to go.”
Rafayel’s eyes narrow. Before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist, keeping you anchored to where you are. Your heart jumps to your throat at the serious expression he suddenly gives you.
“What’s wrong? You’re acting strange.”
Being an artist, Rafayel knows you, your face, your body, better than anyone. He’s always looking at you, holding on to every new detail he finds. Like the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. How the tip of your nose turns rosy when you’re even a little cold. Or how your lips twitch before you lie. Like they are now.
“I’m fine, Raffie, just…tired,” you sigh, tugging against his hold, still trying to avoid him, “Now come on, we should go.”
“Hmmmmm…no.”
You squeak as Rafayel unexpectedly gives your wrist a sharp pull. The momentum sends you tumbling over the back of the couch, right into his lap, and before you can escape, he has you wrapped in his arms. Stuck.
“Rafayel-! Let go of me,” you growl, squirming around hopelessly. The man is surprisingly strong, and with your feet still tossed over the back of the couch, you can’t get enough leverage to escape.
“Nope, not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he hums, arms tightening around your waist.
You huff and give him a solid glare, “This isn’t funny, Rafayel.”
“And neither is hiding something that’s obviously bothering you,” he snips back softly, “You’re a horrible liar, miss bodyguard.”
“I just…” You cross your arms, face feeling warmer and warmer the longer he stares at you. Why does he have to be so stubborn at times like this? “I haven’t been feeling good about myself lately, okay? That’s it, now can we go?”
“Nope.” You resist the urge to groan.
“Thomas is going to throw a fit-”
“He can handle it tonight, I’ll give him a bonus. What’s more important is fixing this.” Rafayel props his chin on your shoulder, a contemplative frown pulling at his lips. “It’ll have to be something creative, which I’m great at, of course. But what?”
“Rafayel, this really isn’t necessary,” you grumble, “I don’t think it’s something you can fix.”
The artist shakes his head, pressing a faint kiss to your shoulder, “I think you underestimate me, cutie. But that’s okay, I think I know exactly what to do.”
Lifting you up, Rafayel sets you back on the couch gingerly and darts off after giving you instructions to not move. A heavy sigh passes your lips as you fix your dress, though it seems a bit pointless now. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be going to the gallery.
A part of you is secretly relieved at that. You love looking at Rafayel’s work, but since it’s his gallery, all the attention would be on him, and, consequently, you as well. It’s a bit suffocating. Still, you’re a little wary of whatever plan he has concocted. Rafayel is as unpredictable as he is talented.
Time seems to tick by slowly as you sit on the couch. You eye the clock, noting each minute as it passes by. Your nerves only continue to rise the longer you’re alone. What on earth is he doing?
On the tenth minute, Rafayel reappears, a mischievous spark in his eyes. He offers you a hand.
“The gallery is ready for you to attend, cutie.”
This time, your eyes narrow, though you still take his hand, allowing him to help you up. “I thought you said we weren’t going?”
“Oh, this is a different kind of gallery,” he hums, looking quite proud of himself, “I think you’ll enjoy this one a lot more. And I’ll be your personal tour guide.”
“How kind,” you muse, fighting your own smile. You might as well humor him, even if it doesn’t help. As long as Rafayel is happy, you can count the night as some kind of success.
Rafayel leads you to one of the spare rooms of the studios. You vaguely remember him telling you at some point that it’s a room he likes to keep his sketchbooks and unfinished projects in. You cast him a curious glance, but his eyes are set ahead as he touches the door, that smile still painted across his lips.
“These works are some of the most important that I’ve ever done, and you’ll be the first to see them. My heart rests in your hands tonight, so be careful, otherwise you might mortally wound me and I’ll never have the courage to paint again.”
You roll your eyes at his antics, about to make a sassy remark, but the words get lost when he presses the door open. Your eyes go wide at the sight before you.
The room is lit by candles, flickering with the flames of his evol. Their light dances across countless artworks spread across the room, hanging on every surface, each one depicting the same subject.
You.
Most of them are sketches, their strokes simple and spontaneous but laden with care, like he had wanted to capture a precious moment for himself. There’s one of you dozing off on the couch, another of you dancing in the kitchen. There’s even one of you holding a stuffy, from one of your many trips to the arcade.
The further you walk into the room, the more detailed the pieces become.
A charcoal drawing of you in your uniform, gun drawn on something off page. The lines of your body are like water, fluid and graceful, the look in your eyes somehow burning with a fierce determination.
An oil painting of the night you spent at the market. Your image is looking at a sparkler, the light reflected in your eyes like stars, your cheeks painted a soft rosy color that seems to glow. It’s impossibly delicate, each stroke placed with such intention, it’s almost like you’re there again.
The final painting you come to make your face go warm again. It’s of you, curled up under a familiar set of sheets, mostly focused on your face. Your hair pools against the pillow, messy yet somehow charming in its unruliness. The morning sunlight dapples across your skin, highlighting the soft color of your lips and the gentle curve of your smile. But it’s your eyes that really make your breath catch. You can practically see the sleepy fog in them, like you had just woken, but also the undeniable warmth. The love.
It’s…beautiful. They’re all beautiful. And they’re all you.
“This is…” You swallow around the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling off-kilter. “I can’t believe you did all of these.”
Rafayel, who had been following behind you silently, hums softly and curls his arms around your waist. You lean back into his touch, letting it ground you and your swirling emotions.
“It’s been difficult even focusing on my work for the gallery. Everything else seems to pale in comparison when I have such a beautiful muse in front of me all the time,” he murmurs the words against your temple, voice quiet to match the atmosphere of the room. “I could devote lifetimes to painting you and never grow tired of it.”
You bite back a bashful smile, unable to resist the urge to tease him a little, “I didn’t realize I was so distracting.”
“Just ask Thomas. I think this is the most he’s ever had to remind me to finish my work,” Rafayel chuckles, giving your waist a squeeze. “But it was worth the missed deadlines. Afterall, isn’t it my responsibility as your employer and lover to make sure you understand how much I cherish you?”
Your heart flutters wildly as the brazen affection in his tone. It seems to melt away your doubts, replacing them with an overwhelming feeling of fondness for your artist. Only Rafayel would do something like this for you, how could you deny it?
Turning around in his hold, you lean up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, which you notice is an absolutely rosy shade of red. It makes you feel even more fond. You really really love this man.
“Thank you, my pretty fish. I feel much better now.”
That dazzling smile lights up his face again, and he leans down to scatter kisses all over your face, whispering between your bouts of giggles, “Anything for you, my queen.”
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All the smooches. I love this man. I will die on the hill of using the nickname "fish" or "fishie" with him, I think it's soooo cute.
#lads rafayel x reader#lads rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#x reader#reader insert#love and deepsace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace reader insert#insecurity#fluffy ending#love and deepspace rafayel x reader
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